Page 123 of Dirty Damage

I grunt approval. Artem’s efficiency is why he’s my right hand. That, and he’s the only person besides my sister who never took my shit.

“The boatyard next,” I add. “Every yacht in my fleet needs checking.”

“Expecting trouble on the water?”

“I’m expecting trouble everywhere.” The memory of motorcycles surrounding my car, Sutton’s terrified face, flashes unbidden. “The home front has to be secure.”

Artem’s knowing look makes me want to punch him. “The ‘home front.’ Right.”

“Don’t start.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“You were thinking it loud enough.”

He grins, unrepentant. “Can’t help it if I’m Team Sutton.”

“There are no fucking teams.” I park in my private garage, killing the engine with more force than necessary. “And if you value your teeth, you’ll keep it that way.”

I scan the penthouse security feed before entering, a habit as natural as breathing. Everything looks clear, but these days, I trust nothing at face value.

The debugger is wrapping up his methodical sweep of each room. He’s a professional guy. Even as we pass in the hallway, he gives me a tight nod and keeps working, head down. He doesn’t ask questions, which is just the way I like it.

Once he’s done, Artem and I head to my office.

Artem sprawls in one of my office chairs, kicking his feet up on my desk. I shove them to the floor as I pass, ignoring the middle finger he flashes my way.

“So what’s the play with Boris?” he asks, watching me pace.

“He’s given us no choice. If we don’t strike first, he will.”

“We’re not exactly swimming in proof here.”

“No, we’re not. That’s the problem. We need someone on the inside.” I drop into my chair, mind already cycling through possibilities.

“You thinking of planting a mole? ‘Cause nose fucking goes, man.” He taps the end of his nose. “Faye is a grouchy pregnant woman and she’ll kill me if I try to leave in her third trimester.”

“He’d recognize you, dumbass.” I roll my eyes. “Plus, we don’t have the time and he’s smart enough to be paranoid. He won’t trust anyone new right now. What we need to do is find someone close enough to matter but weak enough to flip.”

“His inner circle’s pretty tight.”

“Everyone has a price.” I learned that lesson young, watching my father’s empire crumble from within. “Boris treats his men like shit. One of them’s bound to be holding a grudge.”

“Want me to do some digging?”

“Get them drunk. Get them talking.” I rub my temples, fighting the headache building behind my eyes. “We need solid intel before making any moves.”

“And if we find what we’re looking for?”

“Then we bury him,” I snarl. “Before he can bury us.”

“Copy that.” Artem is already on his phone, doing what he does best.

I push to my feet with a yawn. “I’m making coffee. Want anything?”

“Coffee with a shot of something a little stronger.”

I arch a brow. “It’s not even noon.”

---