Page 35 of Dirty Damage

Maybe this could be the fairy tale ending for us both.

Then my eyes dip to the bottom of the page.

Relationship Termination.

The contract outlines that, if the marriage proves to be unhappy, either party is free to terminate the contract and obtain a divorce. In that event, Oleg and I would share physical and legal custody of our child and/or children?—

Wait. Fuck me—children,plural?

Would we have sex enough to have multiple children?

My hand drifts to my flat stomach. How many mini-Beasts does Oleg Pavlov expect me to pop out?

Are we talking Irish twins?

A whole litter of scowling babies with golden eyes?

The mental image should terrify me.

Instead, heat pools low in my belly.

Get it together, Palmer.

My phone buzzes in my pocket again, and I’m desperate enough for a distraction that I drag it out of my pocket.

It’s Mara. But before I can answer, the call drops, and I realize it’s the fifth missed call from her.

What the hell?

Five missed calls from Mara. A dozen texts from numbers I don’t recognize.

Is this Drew again? He can kiss my ass. I meant it when I told him I was done being his favorite toy to break.

I hit redial on Mara’s number, ready to spill everything. The Beast. The contract. The whole twisted fairy tale.

I didn’t sign the NDA, so I don’t owe Oleg Pavlov anything.

Yet.

But once I sign it, can Mara be grandfathered into the arrangement?

Or is this anif I tell you, I have to kill youkind of thing?

Before I can decide what to do, Mara’s voice cuts through the static like a blade. “Jesus, Sut, where have you been? Are you seeing what’s going down in the work chat?”

Mara is a gossip. Even if I swore her to secrecy, she’d never be able to keep it to herself.

And something tells me Oleg doesn’t appreciate loose lips.

“Are you even listening to me?” Mara asks.

“Sorry, Mar. I was far away.”

“‘Far away’ is where you might have to move if this gets much worse,” she snaps. “Have you checked the Pavlov Slack channel today?”

My stomach plummets to my toes. “No, I left the chat when I put in my resignation. Why?”

“Fuck.” Mara’s voice is heavy. Like she’s about to deliver a death sentence. “I don’t know how to tell you this, Sutton…”

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