Chapter 98: Must Be Elegant
 
 
 
 
 
Grace's POV
 
 
 
I, Grace Blackwood, was many things. A fighter, a survivor, and an expert at making people wish they'd never crossed me.
 
But fuck me—I was not, in any universe, a woman who wore heels.
 
So, here I was, trapped in some kind of cruel joke while wearing a blue satin long dress that made me look like I belonged in a fucking princess movie or some shit. I had no idea how they managed to get the dress on me without me doing my usual "slap it off" routine, but now here I was, trapped in a fabric prison with these damn shoes that could only be described as torture devices.
 
I glared at my feet, knowing deep down I was going to regret it.
 
"Alright, let's see you walk, Miss Blackwood," one of the maids said, her voice almost a little too cheerful for my taste.
 
I could do this. I was graceful—at least that's what they always said about

Chapter 99: Red Roses
 
 
 
 
 
Keegan Sergeyev had witnessed many things in his life. But nothing, absolutely nothing, could have prepared him for the spectacle currently unfolding before his eyes.
 
He was seated in the back of his sleek black car, a little far away from the Blackwood's estate. Keegan raised a pair of binoculars and observed the scene before him with the intense focus of a man conducting a serious reconnaissance mission. And in a way, he was—except his target was not an enemy, nor was he gathering intelligence of any real importance. No, his entire attention was locked onto one person. His beloved Grace.
 
And she was suffering not from any danger nor from an enemy, but from the absolute torment of high heels.
 
Keegan's lips twitched, barely containing his amusement as he watched her attempt to walk across the perfectly manicured grass in a pair of delicate silver sti

Chapter 97: Deep Purples
 
 
 
 
 
Valerian Vasiliev sat across from the man whom once saved his life. His silver-grey eyes were calm yet assessing as he studied the man before him. The atmosphere between them was familiar, built upon years of friendship, yet there was something different about him tonight.
 
"Ты прошел долгий путь, Сергеев." (You've come a long way, Sergeyev.) Valerian finally spoke, his voice steady yet curious. "Что привело тебя сюда, мой друг?" (What brings you here, my friend?)
 
Keegan leaned back in his chair, exhaling as he mulled over his answer. Then, with the smallest hint of amusement, he admitted.
 
"Несколько дней назад я был на улицах со своими людьми, наблюдая за группой, которая доставляла неприятности... в моем районе." (A few days ago, I was on the streets with my men, observing a certain group causing trouble... back in my territory.)
 
Valerian's bro

Chapter 98: Must Be Elegant
 
 
 
 
 
Grace's POV
 
 
 
I, Grace Blackwood, was many things. A fighter, a survivor, and an expert at making people wish they'd never crossed me.
 
But fuck me—I was not, in any universe, a woman who wore heels.
 
So, here I was, trapped in some kind of cruel joke while wearing a blue satin long dress that made me look like I belonged in a fucking princess movie or some shit. I had no idea how they managed to get the dress on me without me doing my usual "slap it off" routine, but now here I was, trapped in a fabric prison with these damn shoes that could only be described as torture devices.
 
I glared at my feet, knowing deep down I was going to regret it.
 
"Alright, let's see you walk, Miss Blackwood," one of the maids said, her voice almost a little too cheerful for my taste.
 
I could do this. I was graceful—at least that's what they always said about me when I was running from people and punching them in the face.
 
"Yeah, I know how to walk, you i