Page 45 of Dirty Grovel

“How’s the newest kid doing?” I ask. “And Faye? She recovering well?”

“She’s SuperMom,” Artem says proudly. “Honestly, I don’t know how she juggles it all. I lucked out when I met that woman.”

Something pulls at me from the insides as I listen to Artem boast about his wife. That’s not something I’ll ever have. It’s not something I thought I wanted, either…

I open a bottle of champagne and we toast to the new baby. Then we toast to Faye. Finally, we toast to Artem’s growing family.

By the time we’re done with all the toasts, Artem looks pretty close to being tipsy.

“So…” he starts and I know immediately what’s coming.

I cut him off at the pass. “What do you have for me? I read some of the preliminary reports but nothing in too much detail.”

“I didn’t want to put it in writing,” Artem admits. “But we’ve been monitoring the situation closely. There’s no hard evidence yet, but there definitely seems to be some chatter between the Martineks, Boris, and Lipovsky.”

“That’s what I thought. No such thing as coincidence in our world.”

Artem arches a brow. “Do you have a plan in mind?”

I nod. “We need to take one of them out. It will serve as a warning to the other two and hopefully, drain their resources at the same time.”

“We could hit Lipovsky first,” Artem suggests. “If we take him out, that means Anton will be hung out to dry as well. Two birds, one stone.”

“I would normally agree…” I hesitate, mulling it over as I slosh around the champagne remaining in my flute.

“But?”

“Sutton’s sister,” I murmur. “She’s in Lipovsky’s power. If anything goes wrong, he could use her against me.”

I finish the rest of my champagne in one gulp. But what I’m really craving is something harder, stronger, something that will burn on the way down my throat and force me to forget the woman who’s been stalking my days and nights.

“How are things with you and Sutton?”

I’ve been expecting this question since Artem walked onto the top deck. I turn my face towards the ocean, convinced he’ll be able to see the conflict in my eyes if I look at him.

“Things are… fine. She hates my guts, but that’s par for the course.”

“Have you done anything to deserve her hate?”

“She’s the one who fucked up.”

“Did she?” Artem asks calmly. “Or do you need to believe that in order to preserve whatever twisted notion you have about love and women and family?”

I scowl. “I forget that, every time you have a baby, you fancy yourself some sort of philosopher.”

Artem just laughs. “Defensive. Now, I know I’m onto something.”

“You know fuck-all,” I snap. “Just like I don’t know if Sutton’s baby is mine.”

“I do.”

He’s so damn confident that I meet his gaze. “How can you be so sure?”

“I may not have known Sutton very long, but I don’t think she’s the kind of woman who can play the spy game. What you see is what you get with her.”

“So how do you explain the fact that she kept her contact with Anton from me?”

“Maybe she thought it was none of your business?”

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