Page 217 of Wicked Proposal
“That he’s been working for me, too. Isn’t that right, Tammy?”
Suddenly, a figure slips out from the shadows. Blond, slender, pretty. Smiling like she’s sipping cocktails at a pool party, dressed in nothing but an oversized men’s shirt I immediately recognize as Brad’s.
Tamara.
I’ve never wanted to punch someone in the face so bad.
“Tell her,” Brad urges, grinning. “Tell her how Yulian hired you. Tell her what instructions he gave you.”
“I was supposed to earn your trust.” Her delicate Russian accent rolls off her tongue like sugar. “Keep the boy close, wait for the right time. Then I’d take him back to his father, and he could keep you instead.”
“You’re lying,” I grit. “Yulian would never?—”
“He wanted bait and a squeeze,” Brad cuts in. “He never signed up for a kid in the mix. He’d fuck you until you got sniped, maybe get a legitimate heir out of you, but that’s it. In exchange, he’d get an exclusive contract with Baldwin Construction.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“No?” He opens his arms wide. “Then how do you explain all the coincidences? He took you tomywedding. I popped up athisinvestors’ meeting—how could I have done that unless he’d invited me?”
“But you fought. You?—”
“The fights were staged,” he explains, a bored note to his tone, like he’s fed up that I don’t get it yet. “He needed to gain your trust for this to work. Seriously, you never suspected? God, you’re even dumber than I remembered.”
I want to spit in his face. Want to call him a liar again, louder.
But then I remember Yulian’s behavior. His hot-and-cold flashes that never seemed to make sense, his initial discomfort towards Eli. The coincidences Brad just talked about, a little too convenient to make sense.
And then his words tonight.
“I guess you never learned your lesson.”
I don’t want to believe it. Irefuse.
But what if it’s true?
Tamara—Yulian hired her. He sent her to me. If she was a spy, he’d never miss it.
Which can only mean…
He used me. Not just for his revenge—for everything.
Bitterness pools in my stomach. I have no idea what to believe. All I want right now is for Yulian to come bursting through that door, explain himself to me, tell me he loves me. That he’ll make it all okay.
But he’s not here. And if Brad’s right, he’s not coming at all.
So I need to fix this on my own.
“Send her away,” I murmur, gesturing to Tamara. “Then we can talk.”
“Fine. You, back to the bedroom.”
“With pleasure,” Tamara winks, hips swaying as she retreats behind closed doors.
Finally, we’re alone again.
“It’s game over, Mia.” Brad steps towards me, close, looming. I can smell alcohol on his breath, and I hate it. Hate the memories it drags back up for me. “I can take you for everything you have now. I can sue you for damages, petition the court for Eli’s custody, report you to the State Board for unethical conduct. You’ll lose your job, your license, your parental rights. You’ll be penniless and alone, just like you deserve.”
Brad’s words sink into me like claws. They’re not idle threats—they’re a preview. I can see that future unfolding plain as day: Adams giving me the pink slip, my landlord evicting me, CPS declaring me an unfit mother. I could never work again as a nurse in the State of New York. I could never see my son without supervision, without Brad’s approval.
