Dirty Damage: Chapter 38

I saw my mother arrive on the security cameras, watching her and Sutton circle around each other for an hour.

I even saw my mother hand Sutton the engagement ring I’d all but fucking forgotten about.

But I still wasn’t prepared for the cold welcome I got when I came home today.

Sutton has made it a habit to have something ready for dinner when I get home. She likes to cook, so I started making sure the pantry and fridge are stocked with whatever she might need.

For years, the room was as useful as a showroom floor, but it’s been good to see it get some use.

It’s been even better to come home to a meal we get to share together.

Tonight, there’s only a wilted salad that looks like it crawled out of the compost bin, and pasta so cold the sauce has basically fossilized.

Leftovers from lunch with the Dragon Lady herself.

I find Sutton in the living room, spinning that ring around her finger like she’s trying to saw it off. Her blue eyes flash to me in the doorway before finding something fascinating on the carpet.

“I’m going to order dinner. You want anything?”

“I didn’t think it mattered what I wanted,” she bites back.

Well, shit.

When I told Artem my mother had been by to see Sutton, he told me I could crash at his place. “She just spent the afternoon with her mother-in-law, which means you need to disappear for a week. Since her mother-in-law is Oksana, maybe two. I’d leave for the Sardinia trip early, if I was you.”

Maybe Artem was right.

I drag a hand down my face, feeling the ridges of scar tissue catch against my palm. “If something is bothering you, you can⁠—”

“Nothing is bothering me. Nothing ever bothers me.” Her eyebrow snaps into a dangerous arch.

“Is this about your period?”

Murder fills those baby blues. “I’m a woman, therefore I must be upset because I’m on my period, is that it?”

“That’s not what I⁠—”

I roll my neck on my shoulders, rethinking this entire plan. Sutton is fucking gorgeous, but holy shit, relationships are exhausting. Even fake ones.

“If you don’t want to tell me what’s wrong, then don’t. But I’m not going to stand here and fucking guess.”

I start to turn around when she leaps off the couch, cutting me off at the doorway.

She flashes her hand in front of me, wiggling her ring finger. “Thanks for the ring. Or, I guess I should thank your grandmother.”

“You could, but she died fifteen years ago.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to thank Oksana. Not that she wanted to give it to me, either.” She drops her hand, staring down at the ring like she’d rather peel her skin back than wear it. “She doesn’t even want me in the family, let alone anywhere near the family jewels.”

I snort, and she catches the double meaning a second after I do. She scowls up at me and tries to look away, but I catch her chin in my hand. “What did my mother say?”

“Nothing.”

I force her chin up, letting my skepticism show.

“You’ve met your mother, Oleg. You know she doesn’t need to say anything to make her opinions perfectly clear. It was just more of the same.” She pulls her face out of my hand, her eyes shimmering. “I’m beneath you and your precious family. You’ve made a huge mistake by saddling yourself to me. And I can’t be trusted to choose napkins for the wedding, let alone my own dress.”

The second I saw my mother on the security cameras, I should’ve come home. Sutton is so fierce with me that I forget she’s new to this world.

She’s not ready for a one-on-one with Oksana just yet.

“My mother can be overbearing.”

“She’s a bitch.”

On second thought, maybe Sutton is ready to face off with my mother after all.

But as soon as the thought crosses my mind, her blue eyes widen.

She looks up at me, her mouth open in horror. “Oleg, I’m… I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have⁠—”

“Yes, you should have.”

“No!” she cries, her hands over her mouth as if she might be able to stuff the words back in. “That was horrible of me. I shouldn’t have said it.”

“She deserved it. And worse.” I catch her left hand and turn it in my palm, my finger circling that stone that’s caused so much fucking drama. “Do you like the ring at least?”

“If you want me to wear the ring, I will.”

“That’s not what I asked.” I hold her hand more firmly. “Do you like it?”

“It’s…” She shrugs her shoulders. “I don’t even know. I haven’t even thought about it, honestly. It all took me off-guard. She showed up for lunch, dumped this ring in my lap, and told me the entire wedding has been planned.”

“Did you want to plan it?”

Her brow furrows into delicate lines of confusion. “I know none of this is real, but I guess I thought I’d get to make some choices.”

The defeat in her voice crumples me like a sucker punch to the gut.

She feels stifled. Trapped.

I recognize the signs.

“I’m the one who told Maman to handle the wedding planning.”

“But it’s our wedding,” she breathes, her eyes glassy. “Don’t you want to make the decisions together?”

I’ve spent years letting Oksana handle the social aspects of my life simply because it was easier. Because I didn’t give a fuck.

But watching Sutton struggle not to cry, I realize my hands-off approach has consequences now.

I bark out a laugh. “I’m surprised my mother is throwing a wedding at all. She loves a party, but since I’m going to be the center of attention at this one, I almost expected her to plan an elopement so no one would have to see the scarred groom.”

“What are you talking about? You’re basically the face of the company.”

“In boardrooms. At parties with her careful guest lists. In pictures she can pay to have edited.” I turn my face, flashing the scars. “Haven’t you noticed that her son is deformed?”

Next to losing her daughter in that fire, the greatest tragedy for my mother was always the shame. The scandal. The sight of her once-perfect son turned into a monster.

She’s spent years burying it.

I’ve let her.

Sutton’s face falls. “You aren’t deformed, Oleg. I think you’re…” She swallows, stepping closer. “I think you’re beautiful.”

I stare down at her, tracing every minor emotion flickering across her face so I don’t miss anything. “Beautiful? That’s a first.”

She inches over to me timidly, her fingers trembling before she reaches out and puts her hand on my scarred arm.

“I’m sorry you have them, but only because of the way you got them. I’m sorry you had to lose anyone. But now that they’re here… I can appreciate them. Because they’re part of you.”

Her hand slides up my shoulder to my face. I catch it with mine, squeezing her fingers. “Does this mean you’re done being angry with me?”

She rolls her eyes, but her mouth melts into a smile. “For now. I’m sure there will be something else later.”

She pulls her hand back and I’m tempted to protest. My skin is still tingling from where she was touching me.

“Fine, but can it wait until we get back?”

“Get back from where?”

Artem would beat my ass for what I’m about to do.

But now that it’s there, I can’t let it go.

I can’t let her go.

“I have a trip to Sardinia in two days to meet with a client. I want you to come with me.”

“You want me to…” Her voice peters off, a smile stealing her words. Until reality crashes in and steals that, too. She shakes her head. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She lowers her face, but I catch her bottom lip pinched between her teeth. “For starters, I don’t have a passport.”

I don’t say anything, but the lift in my brows must say enough because she drops her face into her hands.

“Being a foster kid meant I was a little too busy figuring out where I was sleeping to cross countries off my bucket list.” She blows out a breath. “Your mother’s right. You deserve⁠—”

“I’m going to stop you right there. Any sentence that starts with ‘your mother’s right’ is usually wrong.” She tries to say something else, but I press my thumb to her mouth to quiet her. “We could both use a breather. And we’ll take one in Sardinia.”

She waves a hand in front of my face. “Hello? Still no passport.”

I curl my hand around her cheek, brushing along her cheekbone. “Just focus on packing and leave the rest to me.”

I watch her face light up as though I’ve promised her the moon.

And all I can think is⁠—

I would literally do anything to keep that smile on her face, all day, every day.

For the rest of our lives.