Page 47 of Beautiful Agony

Slowly, Vadim's resistance crumbles, his shoulders dropping slightly as he lets out a heavy breath. "Fine. But we do this my way."

My heart pounds as the reality of what we're about to do sinks in. Getting Dad and Freddy to safety means exposing them to the truth about my life now. About Vadim. About everything.

Dad's dementia makes him vulnerable, but in some ways that might be easier. It's Freddy I'm truly dreading. My gambling addict of a brother who's stolen everything he could from our family, who's made it his mission to remind me I don't belong.

"We'll need to be careful how we approach this," I say, unconsciously pressing my hand against my stomach. "If Freddy feels cornered, he'll lash out. And Dad... some days he barely remembers who I am."

Vadim's fingers intertwine with mine. "Tell me what you need."

"Time," I whisper. "And patience. Lots of patience."

My stomach churns as I think about facing Freddy again. The last time I saw him, he was stealing from Dad's house while hurling insults at me.

"Two years you’ve been fucking that banker, and not a single goddamn penny to show for it."

I feel my hands shaking—whether from nerves or rage, I can't tell—as I recall how I didn't have the guts to stand up to him.How all I could do isimaginethe words I wanted to shout at him.

Now I have to convince him to accept protection from my bratva husband while a psychotic woman hunts us all.

The weight of what we're about to do settles heavy in my chest as I realize that I'm about to confront the messy truth of who I've become.

A pakhan's wife caught in a war I never asked for but can't escape.

15

VADIM

The black SUVwinds through the suburban streets. Lacey's fingers drum nervously against her thigh, and I catch myself watching the movement instead of the road. Even now, after everything, the smallest gestures from her still captivates me.

"You never told me he has a gun," I say, though I've memorized every detail she shared. The thought of that worthless piece of shit pulling a gun on my pregnant wife makes my blood boil.

"He got desperate once the gambling debts started piling up," Lacey says softly. "And after I confronted him about stealing Dad's medication to sell..."

I grip the steering wheel tighter, my knuckles white. Freddy's debts to Kirsan's casinos are substantial—half a million fucking dollars.

The irony isn't lost on me that I'll need to shelter this parasite in Pankration alongside everyone else I'm protecting. The same man who made my wifefeel unwelcome in her own family, and who stole from his sick father.

But Lacey wants to save him, despite everything he's done. And what Lacey wants, she gets.

Even if it means housing her thieving stepbrother under my roof.

I glance at her profile, illuminated in the summer sun. Her hand rests protectively over her belly. The fierce protectiveness I feel watching her threatens to overwhelm me.

"We're almost there," she whispers, and I can hear the tension in her voice. I reach over and take her hand in mine, bringing it to my lips.

"Whatever happens in there,zvyozdochka, I've got you. Both of you."

The yellow two-story house comes into view at the end of the cul-de-sac. I pull the SUV to a stop, watching Lacey's reaction in my peripheral vision. Her breath catches as she takes in the sight of the house.

"Look," she whispers, her fingers tightening around mine. "The roses Mom planted are blooming now."

Rich crimson blooms climb up white lattice work beside the sage green door. The summer sun catches morning dew still clinging to the petals. Six weeks ago when she left, those same roses must've barely started budding in Seattle's endless spring rain.

"There's Freddy's car." Lacey points to a rusted Honda Civic with mismatched panels parked crookedly in the driveway. "He never leaves before noon unless..."

She trails off, but I know what she's thinking. Unless he's desperate enough to start pawning things early in the morning.

And unless Kirsan's men are breathing down his neck about his debts.

---