Dirty Damage: Chapter 45

I grip the polished mahogany edge of the conference table, surveying the room. Every seat at the oval table is filled…

… except one.

The empty chair seems to mock my uncle’s absence, a stark reminder of the power play I’m about to unleash.

It’s been days of early mornings and late nights, poring over spreadsheets, surveillance footage, IP information. The only time I’ve turned my brain off is when I crash into bed next to Sutton and pull her into me.

Some nights, we don’t even fuck; we just lie in the dark whispering about everything and nothing at all.

Occasionally, I catch something deep in her blue eyes. Something like worry. I want to reassure her, tell her I’ve got things under control.

But I’ve never been big on false comfort. I don’t want to make any promises until I’m sure.

Which is why I’m here now.

Fifteen minutes ago, I laid out my plan to Artem. His eyes nearly popped out of his skull when he saw the stack of documents proving Boris’s attempted deal with the Martineks.

Now, my best friend stands in the corner of the boardroom, arms crossed, a slight smirk playing at his lips.

He knows what’s coming.

My mother’s phone buzzes on the table in front of her. She reads it and sits tall, her blood-red lipstick a slash of war paint across her sharp features.

“Boris is on his way.”

A few moments later, the heavy double doors swing open. Boris marches in, flanked by his two pet assistants. His complexion has the gray pallor of week-old fish left to rot.

“What is the meaning of this, Oleg? Only I have the authority to call emergency board meetings.”

“Actually, I do as well,” Oksana says, rising to her feet.

Boris’s eyes narrow. “True. But it’s a power you’ve never used before.”

“I suppose I was waiting for a good reason.” My mother adjusts her tan lapel with precise fingers. “And now, I have one.”

His gaze darts between us. “Was it necessary to involve the entire board in this?”

“They can be the judges of that.” My mother’s smile is frozen and jagged. “Take a seat, Boris. Oleg has the floor.”

I don’t wait for him to sit. The stack of documents in my hand might as well be loaded ammunition, and I’m about to start firing.

This is about the company. About my future.

But Sutton is in my head, too. Her shy smile as she kissed me goodbye this morning, the way she breathed my name while I was inside of her last night.

The thought of her fuels me.

It’s not just my future I’m fighting for…

It’s ours.

I clear my throat and begin. “It seems that our CEO has not been entirely transparent with any of us. Pavlov Industries was this close to a deal that none of us had signed off on…”

The projector hums to life behind me, numbers flooding the screen. It’s proof that Boris was in the process of putting a bid in on Cordova Group, one of the Martineks’ businesses.

The second I uncovered the deal, I understood why Boris refused to back my surveillance project—all of his money was tied up in this lost cause of a company.

He was about to throw away everything. Probably because the Martineks have something on him. He had no choice.

It’s also why Boris’s face is growing grayer by the second.

He splutters like he’s choking on his own bullshit. “I am the CEO! I have every right to make decisions that will benefit the company!”

“Except this deal wouldn’t have benefited anyone but our rivals.” I gesture to the projector screen, where the numbers tell their own damning story. “Any fool can see buying this asset would have lost us millions.”

“That… You can’t… It’s not clear⁠—”

“Look at the numbers,” I tell the board. “You don’t have to take my word for it.”

“Th-this was an… opportunity… I’ve negotiated down the price and⁠—”

“Actually, the deal won’t be going through,” I announce. “Oksana and I withdrew your offer this morning. Pavlov Industries will not be sinking millions into a rival firm’s failed pet project.”

“You did not⁠—!”

“We most certainly did.” My mother joins me at the head of the table. “My goal has always been the successful future of this company. You were about to plunge us into ruin, Boris. I was forced to act.”

“You betrayed me,” he hisses.

I step between them, towering over my uncle’s suddenly diminished shape. “No. You’re the one who committed the betrayal. Lucky for you, I found out in time to stop the deal.”

My mother places both hands on the table. “My son not only saved us untold millions, but he also saved our company’s reputation.”

Boris opens and closes his mouth like a fish gasping for air.

Before he can find his voice, my mother turns to the rest of the room. “I propose a new vote.”

I tense, caught off-guard. This wasn’t part of the strategy session this morning.

“Boris didn’t believe that Oleg’s security system was a worthwhile investment—he didn’t believe it was the right path forward for Pavlov Industries. But now that you’ve seen the path Boris did choose—the one he tried to take behind your backs and to your detriment—I think it’s time we make a decision on my son’s dream. Especially now that our cash reserves aren’t tied up in lost causes.”

Well, I’ll be damned.

“I object!” Boris blusters, his jowls quivering. “We already voted on this issue⁠—”

“And now, I’m calling another vote.” My mother’s voice could freeze hell itself. “Oleg and I will adhere to the board’s decision. Will you?”

Boris white-knuckles the table edge. “Th-this is… unnecessary.”

“I suppose we’ll find out.” Mother turns to address the board. “All in favor of backing Oleg’s surveillance system?”

Hands rise around the table one by one. Even Boris’s most loyal dogs lift their paws. The only hand that stays down belongs to my uncle.

“This is preposterous⁠—!”

“You can posture all you want, Uncle,” I interrupt. “But the decision has been made. We are officially moving into the twenty-first century.”

Boris lurches to his feet. His glare sweeps the room, promising vengeance, before he storms out.

A ripple of nervous laughter breaks the tension. I lock eyes with my mother, giving her a grateful nod. She returns it with the ghost of a smile.

Victory tastes sweeter than I imagined.

And all I can think about is sharing it with Sutton.

I mean to leave the office early. But one celebratory glass of champagne turns into four, and then the vodka comes in to dance, and hours later, I’m being driven home by Uri because I’m too buzzed to be behind the wheel.

Still, it’s early enough that Sutton should be awake. I can’t wait to hold her and⁠—

But the kitchen is empty. And the living room.

I’m in too good of a mood to be worried as I walk into our bedroom.

Then I hear it—soft, broken sobs filtering through the bathroom door. The sound saws right through my drunken haze. My chest constricts.

All at once, I know I’d do anything, kill anyone, to make those sounds stop.