Page 109 of Dirty Damage

She rises, five feet of righteous fury. Her glare could melt steel. “Sutton’s been put in a cage before, Oleg. She didn’t care for it. Even if she accepts certain things now, she won’t always.”

“Are you trying to tell me something, Mara?”

She sniffs. “You might be able to offer her a bigger, brighter, shinier cage—but at the end of the day, it’s still a cage.”

“You’ve clearly made up your mind about me.”

Her jaw clenches. “Prove me wrong then.”

If only I could…

She throws me a backward glance as she crosses the road and flags down a cab. I wait until she’s safely inside before pulling out my phone.

Artem picks up on the first ring. “What’s up?”

“Find me an expert technician who specializes in bug sweeping. ASAP.”

He whistles. “By the tone of your voice, someone is dead.”

I stare at the pocket where the tracker sits, imagining all the ways Drew Anton has been watching, following, hunting.

The beast in my chest wants blood.

“Someone’s been keeping tabs on Sutton. I want to know why.”

31

SUTTON

My morning ovulation test shows a beaming smiley face.

Another month, another chance to get knocked up by Palm Beach’s most eligible monster.

Except said monster is “working late.”

Again.

I stare at Oleg’s text, fighting the urge to send him a photo of the positive test along with something crude like,“Your sperm is cordially invited to a party in my uterus.”

But he’d probably just send back one of his signature grunt-texts. A simple “k” designed to remind me that this is all business.

My phone buzzes and my stupid heart leaps, but it’s not Oleg. It’s not even Sydney, who’s still ghosting me hard.

No, it’s my future mother-in-law, coming in hot with her special brand of passive-aggressive wisdom.

OKSANA:Good evening, Sutton. I send along the details of Marcia Rui. She’s an excellent stylist. I’m sure she’ll be able to work wonders on you.

Which is Bitchy MIL speak for,Your tits were showing at my fancy party and I’d rather gouge out my eyes than let you embarrass the family name again.

I contemplate sending back the middle finger emoji. It would be worth it just to imagine her perfectly Botoxed face contorting in horror.

But I’m not that socially inept.

Yet.

Give me another month or two of this horny solitary confinement and that could change.

SUTTON:Thank you. I’ll keep her in mind for future events.

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