Page 4 of Dirty Grovel

She called the arresting officer a “sorry excuse for feminism.” The female cop was decidedly not amused but I’ll give my mother one thing: She got the last word in.

Not sure how much of a comfort that is to her now, sitting in her jail cell the last few years, but hey—small victories, right?

The next ram on the door means business. Another hit and it’s going to come crashing off its hinges.

I spot a crystal bottle of cologne and grab it. My palms are so sweaty that it damn near slips through my fingers.

Right on cue, the door crashes inwards.

I don’t wait and I don’t aim.

I just hurl the bottle right at the man standing on the threshold.

If it’s a fight he wants, it’s a fight he’s going to get.

2

OLEG

I’m not the fucking villain here.

I’m painfully aware that I’m kicking down a door to reach a screaming woman within. It doesn’t look good for me.

But I’m not in the wrong—she is.

She’sthe one who fucked up.

She’sthe one who betrayed me.

And somehow, I’m the monster?

Fine. If that’s how she wants to portray it, then that’s how it will be. I’ll be the monster. I’ll be the beast.

I’ve been doing it since I was eighteen years old. What difference is a few more minutes?

I’m about to ram it again when a throat clears from the hallway.

“Boss?”

I twist around and Vlad shrinks back at the sight of my face. “What is it?” I snarl.

“Just thought you’d want to know that we’re picking up an unauthorized cell signal coming from the stateroom.”

I turn and look at the door again. So she has a phone on her. I assumed she did; I just didn’t think she’d have the guts to use it. Then again, I didn’t think she was capable of joining forces with the Martineks, either.

Maybe that’s why I’m so pissed off. It’s not about her at all.

It’s about me.

It’s about how I fell for her act, her sweet little doe routine. The unwitting princess in the dress that doesn’t fit. It was well-played; I’ll give her that.

But I was the idiot who failed to see through it.

Why?

Because your dick was doing all the thinking…

It’s the most obvious answer.

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