Page 178 of Dirty Damage

My period is due.

Wasdue, actually. A few days ago.

I’d completely forgotten in the upheaval of everything that’s happened.

Grabbing one of the pregnancy tests I’ve had on hand since I signed the now-broken contract, I tear off the packaging, my heart jumping into my throat.

Could it be…?

Once I’m done peeing on the stick, I place it on the vanity and start pacing the three feet between the mirror and the door.

Everything feels just a little bit claustrophobic after the airy spaciousness of Oleg’s penthouse.

But right now, the lack of air in my lungs has nothing to do with the lack of space.

How long has it been?

I count to a hundred. Then I count to another hundred for good measure.

By the time I finally give myself permission to look at the test, my hands are covered in goosebumps.

“Here goes nothing,” I mutter, opening my eyes, even though, deep down, I know exactly what I’m going to see.

The sign is bright and clear.

There’s no denying it.

I’m pregnant.

52

OLEG

“Blyat’.This doesn’t bode well for them getting back together.”

Artem’s low timbre tells me that he’s worried.

But not for me.

I edge close to the door as their voices spill over. I can make out Artem’s bicep and Vlad’s tattooed wrist. They’re standing close together, exchanging information inmyfucking office that they don’t want me to know.

This is what happens when you lose focus.

This is what happens when you let your head get turned by a doe-eyed actress in a princess dress.

Because it is clearer to me now than it has ever been: Sheisa fucking actress.

No one can be that naïve, that innocent. That simpering gaze, the shaky lower lips—all one big act.

I pride myself on being a good judge of character. I pride myself on seeing through people.

And yet here I am, eating my words, re-evaluating my intuition.

I fell for it, just like Boris said—hook, line and sinker.

I smash through the door, sending both men grunting away from it.

“Oleg!” Artem’s eyes are wide. “I didn’t think you’d be in so early.”