Page 40 of Dirty Damage

In the process, she forgot to protect herself.

“The only reason I’m as brave and strong as you think I am is because of you.” I have to fight back tears of my own.

Her face cracks for just a second before she composes herself. She pushes away a tear like she’s ashamed of it, being gentle with the bruised side of her face.

“I need to go clean up. I can’t be seen like this.”

Translation: Paul can’t see her like this.

Seeing what he’s done to her will only set him off again, like it’sherfault for bruising under his fist.

“I’ll call you in a few days?” Her voice is soft.

I swallow down a sob. “You better.”

She blows me a kiss and, with a click of a button, her image disappears.

Suddenly, my shitstorm doesn’t seem so apocalyptic. Not compared to what Sydney’s facing.

I power my phone back on, wading through the flood of new messages.

Drew’s name appears, but I ignore it.

My ex is the least of my problems.

Maybe there’s a normal guy in here offering cash for pics. How many nudes would it take to buy a plane ticket? First and last month’s rent on a two-bedroom?

I’m still doing the math when I see another name.

I open the message with a shaking hand.

OLEG:Looks like you’ve gone viral, princess. I can offer security, protection, and a quiet place to stay at my condo. All you have to do is sign the contract and my driver will be there in the morning to pick you up.

The contract is still sitting in the middle of my bed.

A million dollars is a hell of a lot more than half a month’s rent.

I was willing to make a deal with the devil to save my sister.

Now, the question becomes: Is a contract with the Beast better or worse?

12

OLEG

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows ofThe Poseidon’swheelhouse, I watch the Palm Beach skyline recede into a shimmering mirage.

The lights from the harbor are pinpricks on the dark surface of the water, but it still doesn’t feel far enough away.

I turn to the former Russian naval officer manning the wheel. “Well?”

Kon’s beady brown eyes scrape over the touchscreen display. He points to the screen tracking the real-time thermal imaging of three vessels in our periphery.

“This is next-level shit, sir. The range on this is insane.”

“Three miles for heat signatures. Five for radar.” I recline against the leather captain’s chair, enjoying his barefaced awe. “The AI can identify vessel class and track historical patterns. Any ship that’s passed through these waters in the last six months? The system knows it.”

Kon taps at the screen, muttering the features to himself. “Underwater sonar. Aerial drone feed. Satellite overlay. Goddamn.”

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