Page 95 of Dirty Damage

“I’m not territorial! I just— That was— I kissed you just to shut her up.”

“Fine by me. Feel free to use me anytime you want.”

A shy grin lifts the corners of her mouth. “Can we leave now?”

My cock twitches. “Fuck yes. Let’s go.”

I take her hand and pull her toward the double doors. I’ll deal with my mother’s wrath later.

Right now, I want Sutton in the back of my limo, screaming my name.

But we’re halfway to freedom when we round a marble column and there she is.

The dragon lady herself.

“Leaving already?” asks Oksana.

I tuck Sutton partially behind me, even though she’s proven she can handle herself in this snake pit. “I was looking for you.”

The arch of her thin brow tells me she knows better. “Last to arrive, first to leave. It’s disrespectful to your guests.”

“You threw such a great party that our guests are drunk enough not to mind anymore,” I bite back.

Suddenly, Sutton slips next to me, her hand stroking slowly up my spine. “Yes, thank you, Mrs. Pavlov. You really didn’t need to go to all this trouble just for?—”

“Actually, all thistroubleis very necessary.” My mother looks around pointedly before she steps closer, voice dangerously low. “You’re engaged to the heir of the Pavlov Bratva. If you’re going to be his wife and raise his children, you need to understand your expectations.”

The threat hangs in the air like poison gas. Then my mother does something worse than murder—she reaches for Sutton.

My fiancée jerks against me like she’s about to be gutted, but then realizes it’s just a hug. The most passive-aggressive hug in the history of forced physical contact, but a hug nonetheless.

“Welcome to the family, Sutton,” my mother says loudly enough for eavesdroppers to hear.

Then she releases Sutton and turns back for the ballroom.

The hug seems to have broken Sutton’s brain more effectively than any threat could have. I have to drag her down the steps to the waiting limo.

It isn’t until we’re safely locked in the back seat that she exhales.

“What the actual fuck was that?”

“A performance. You’ll get used to it.”

“No, I won’t.” She looks dazed, staring at her hands like they belong to someone else. Then her head snaps up. “And what was she talking about? She said you were the heir of some… bratwurst? Brat van? What’s that?”

I probably should’ve told her, but I didn’t think it changed anything. Itdoesn’tchange anything.

Her smile wavers. “Oleg?”

“It’s nothing. Just the family business.”

“I thought Pavlov Industries was the family business?”

“It is. One of them.” She’s still staring at me expectantly, so I shrug. “It’s Russian.”

Her brows crease together. “There’s something wrong with it… isn’t there?”

I only shake my head. “This changes nothing, Sutton. I am going to take care of you. I’ll keep you safe. The contract we signed still stands.”

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