Page 17 of Sexting the Boss

Please. Let me come. I need it.

My grip tightens around my phone.

Who the hell is she?

And why the fuck do I want to find out?

A knock sounds at the door.

I don’t react right away, taking my time adjusting myself, before setting the phone on the desk face down.

“Enter.”

Oleg steps inside, his presence imposing as always, his expression grim.

I know that look.

Business.

The kind that stains your hands. The kind that keeps you out of places where normal men sleep peacefully.

“Bad news?” I ask, voice even.

His shoulders shift slightly, the only sign of his discomfort. “They found Dmitry.”

I inhale slowly, tapping two fingers against the polished wood of my desk.

Dmitry Morozov.

A rat.

One who thought he could play both sides.

One who thought I wouldn’t find out.

I glance at the gold watch on my wrist, then back at Oleg. “Alive?”

Oleg’s expression doesn’t change. “For now.”

I nod. “Take me to him.”

He doesn’t ask if I need a moment to compose myself. He knows better.

There’s no need for composure.

There is only what must be done.

As I stand, my phone buzzes again.

I glance at it, lips pressing together as curiosity coils deep in my stomach.

Unknown Number: Still awake?

I resist the urge to smirk.

Instead, I slide the phone into my pocket, adjust the cuffs of my shirt, and walk past Oleg without another word.

I have other things to handle tonight. But when this is over?—

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