Page 27 of Beautiful Agony

I watch as something shifts in Polina's expression. Her shoulders slump, and the fierce anger in her eyes dims to something closer to shame.

"When I came to him that night..." She refuses to look at Vadim as she talks, voice barely above a whisper. "I was desperate." She swallows hard. "I wanted to reach Olga first, but I had no way to contact her."

The admission knocks the air out of me. All this time, even after everything that happened, Polina still thought of Olga first.

Before I can stop myself, the words tumble out. "Olga's the one who arranged Serena's kidnapping!"

"How dare you!" Polina's voice sharpens.

Her storm-gray eyes flash with the same familiar fury as Vadim's, and she takes a step toward me.

"I will not have you sullying Olga Romanovna's good name. She saved my life. She?—"

"Led you through the backdoor of the conservatory at Pankration?" I press on.

I see the disbelief flash across Polina's face. "How could you possibly know about that path?"

"Because Olga used the same route to deliver me to Kirsan's daughter." The words taste bitter on my tongue. "Right after she tried to convince me that Vadim was exactly like Pyotr."

"No." Polina shakes her head violently. "You're wrong. Olga saved me. She helped me escape when no one else would."

"She didn't save you." My voice softens with understanding. "She used you as a weapon against Pyotr. Just like she tried to use me against Vadim."

"That's not true!" But I hear the first trace of doubt creeping into her voice.

"It wasn't mercy that drove her actions. It was spite," I press gently. "Every time Pyotr took another woman to his bed, Olga's hatred grew because she was afraid that they could give him what she never could."

"It's not true." Polina covers her mouth as her body starts shaking. "She protected me..."

"She protected nothing but her own interests." The truth is sharp on my tongue. "You were just another pawn in her game. Another way to hurt Pyotr. To hurt your own son."

I watch as decades of certainty begin to crack in Polina's eyes. Her fingers press closer against her face, as if trying to grasp onto beliefs that are suddenly slipping away.

"Mom," Serena's voice carries a gentle but firm resolve. "I never told you about that morning."

I feel Vadim's hand tighten in mine as his sister continues.

"This woman—tall and beautiful in this cold way—she was the one who forced my car off the road." Serena's words come faster now, like she needs to get them out before they choke her. "She walked up to my window, looking down at me like... like sheknewme."

Polina's face drains of color, her storm-gray eyes widening with each word.

"But it was what she said that scared me most." Serena wraps her arms around herself. "She looked at me and said how much I looked like 'her.' Especially my eyes."

A choked sound escapes Polina's throat as she stumbles backward. Martin catches her, but she barely seems to notice.

"No," she whispers. "No, that's not true. That can't be true."

"Olga was never your savior, Polina," I say softly. "But there is someone who has never stopped loving you, even when you rejected him." I squeeze Vadim's hand. "Your son."

The truth of my words seems to hit Polina like a physical blow. Her eyes finally—finally—find Vadim's, and I watch as decades of carefully constructed walls begin to crumble.

"All these years," she breathes. "I thought..."

Her gaze drifts to Vadim's face, really seeing him for perhaps the first time. Not as Pyotr's shadow, but as her son.

With tears in her eyes, a single word finally falls from Polina's trembling lips.

"Vadyusha."

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