Page 180 of Dirty Damage

But there’s another, larger part of me that wants to take a bite out of anyone who crosses my path.

Unfortunately for Artem, that’s exactly where he’s found himself.

“I don’t need your help. I need your obedience. Your loyalty.”

He sighs and scrubs a hand over his face. “You have it, Oleg. But part of that deal comes with honesty. I don’t believe Sutton is a spy. I think if she were, you’d have sussed her out long before now.”

“Are you trying to rub my face in it?”

“I’m trying to tell you that your hurt is clouding your judgement.”

“I’m not hurt,” I growl. “I’m pissed off.”

“Oleg—”

I cut him off with a raised hand. “What do you know, Artem? I won’t ask again.”

He runs a hand through his hair, then pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Vlad is running the team that’s trailing Sutton,” he explains. “And this morning… This morning, she met with Drew Anton.” The words wheeze out as though it’s costing him a lot to tell me.

My lip twists in a cruel sneer. “And you’re still claiming that she’s innocent.”

“You should watch the—” He offers me his phone but I slap it away so hard that it almost careens out of his hand. “Oleg, there’s more going on here than we know. Maybe you should—” He blocks me before I can reach the door. “—calm the fuck down and think straight for a second. And if you can’t think straight, then at least listen to someone who can. There’s more than one side to this story.”

I stop, but only so I can whip around and glare at him head-on.

“Why? So you can plead Sutton’s case for her? Sure, there may well be eighteen fucking sides to this story—but I have neither the time nor the inclination to sort through them all. Boris is currently trying to run us into the ground. We might wake up tomorrow to a Martinek takeover, with a Martinek boss overseeing us. Is that what you want?”

“Of course that’s not?—”

“Then why the fuck are you still fighting me on this?”

Artem has never looked so exhausted. “Christ, Oleg. I’m not fighting you at all. We’re on the same side, remember?” He exhales again, miserable. “But considering we’re operating withvery little intel, it makes sense to be cautious rather than reckless. You go in guns blazing and it might feed right into the Martineks’ hands.”

“If you have a plan, say it. Otherwise, get the fuck out of my way.”

“Bring Sutton in,” he says with a gulp. “Find out what she knows.”

Teeth grinding, I twist around so that Artem can’t see the vein I can feel trying to burst through my forehead.

It’s a fair suggestion. Reasonable. Cautious, like he said.

But I can’t imagine seeing Sutton just now, let alone talking to her.

Even if she does talk, how can I believe a single word that comes out of her mouth?

The only thing I am sure of is that it’s over between us.

The one small silver lining is that I found out about all this before I knocked her up with my heir. At least now, I can break the contract clean.

“Maybe later,” I agree, if only to placate Artem for the time being. “For now, I have more important matters to deal with.”

I push past him and stride toward my mother’s office on the opposite side of the floor. Ever since we found out about Boris, she’s been practically living on the premises.

I walk in without knocking. She’s standing between her lounge and her desk, clearly mid-pace. She’s holding a French cigarette slanted elegantly between her fingers. Smoke whirls around her face in a delicate plume.

“It’s a bit early for a smoke, isn’t it?”

“Considering the shit your uncle has mired us in, I think not.” She lifts one perfect eyebrow. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”

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