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OLEG

The motherfucker is a coward.

But cowards are at their best when they have innocent lives as cannon fodder.

If I squint, it almost looks like Lipovsky has Sutton in his clutches. It’s enough to make me want to pull the trigger where I stand just to get his filthy hands off her.

He’s got an arm fastened securely around her neck, her body almost entirely covering his. Sydney’s hands are scrabbling at the chokehold, her eyes rolling in pure, animalistic panic.

“Let her go, Lipovsky,” I order.

He shakes his head, sweaty hair flopping over his brow. “You think I’m fuckin’ stupid? I let her go and you blow my brains out. This way is better. Cleaner, too. All you have to do is let us go.”

“Not going to happen.”

He presses the gun a little harder to her temple, making Sydney whimper. “Then I’ll pull the damn trigger and paint the walls with her brains. Is that what you want?”

I shrug, feigning disinterest. “What I want is to bury you so deep in the earth that the heat from its core will eviscerate your bones instantly.”

“You’re a damn fool, Pavlov!” he bellows. “You think you’re so fucking smart, coming here to play the damn hero. The Martineks were right about you. So was Drew. He told me you would do anything to save the Palmer whores. He told me that Sutton had you wrapped around her little finger.” He gulps. “But guess what? This is their schtick. They don’t actually give a damn about anything other than your money.”

Tears are streaming down Sydney’s face, mixing with the blood from her split lip.

I take a half-step forward and Lipovsky explodes. “Not another fucking step!” he roars. “Or I’ll shoot. I swear to God, I’ll shoot!”

A frantic, muffled scream escapes Sydney, her eyes growing wild with fear.

“You’re a fucking coward,” I growl.

“Better a coward than a fucking patsy,” he mumbles on, inching towards the road. “You put your neck out for these two bitches and you’ll pay the price. Trust me—Drew’s got enough dirt on both sisters and now that you’ve gone and tied yourself to one, you’re going to go down with them.”

“You like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?” I ask, trying to buy some time, trying to find a way in.

“You should really be listening, Pavlov. You’re the one with the real problem. This little whore here—” He taps the gun against her temple just in case I didn’t know who he was talking about. “—was actually a pretty great find. Until that bitch fiancée of yours got involved. She’s the real problem. Uptight little skank.”

Sydney’s eyes harden. She stops struggling so much as her features twist into a scowl.

Lipovsky doesn’t seem to register the change. He just keeps talking, rambling like he’s coked out of his mind.

“Fair warning—that bitch needs to be put in her place. A good beating every now and again should do the trick. That worked great with this little filly. But I’m guessing you’re going to really need to crack the whip with that little?—”

Before he can finish, Sydney rams her head backwards, smashing Lipovsky right in the nose. His hand drops, relinquishing his hold on her.

The brief distraction is all I need.

I take aim and fire.

I’m not the only one.

Half a dozen gunshots ring through the air and when silence finally settles, Lipovsky is lying crumpled and dead in the dirt, a cavernous hole of bone and muscle where his face should be.

It’s a pitiful ending for a pitiful man.

Sydney takes one look at him and all the color drains from her face. She stumbles back, but I reach her just before she falls.

Scooping her into my arms, I turn to my men. “Clean up the trash,” I order, glancing at the body by my feet. “And ready the jet. I want to leave within the hour.”

Seconds later, Pavel squeals up in the Range Rover and I slip Sydney into the back seat.

Her eyes are open, but it doesn’t look like she’s taking in much. She keeps to her corner, arms wrapped around her body, shivering silently.

“I’m just going to text your sister, okay?” I tell her, speaking slowly so that she can follow me. “Let her know that you’re okay.”

I send a text to Sutton and another to Artem. Once that’s done, I turn my attention on Sydney, making sure to keep my distance and respect her space.

“Can I get you anything?”

Her eyes flash to mine. She looks confused by the question.

I suppose it’s a strange one to be confronted with after you’ve just seen your boyfriend get his face blown off.

“You’re in shock. Just breathe slowly and drink something.” I retrieve a bottle of water from the mini fridge underneath my feet and pass it to her. “Try to take a few sips.”

She looks at me and then the bottle, her chin trembling violently now. She swallows and her teeth stop chattering.

I wait patiently until she accepts the bottle. It takes her another few minutes to open it and drink. Water sloshes out onto the front of her sweater but she doesn’t seem to notice.

By the time we get onto the plane, she’s got some signs of life back in her cheeks.

“There’s a shower in the bathroom if you need one,” I tell her. “And some clean clothes as well.”

She nods and slumps her way toward the bathroom. I take the time to coordinate with my men.

Before long, Sydney is walking back towards me, dressed in fresh clothes. She takes the seat opposite me, eyeing the trays laid out in front of us.

“God,” she mutters. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

Her eyes are bluer than Sutton’s, bright and vibrant. Sutton wasn’t kidding when she told me her sister was beautiful.

But all I see is how Sydney is like Sutton but with the lines blurred—wrong, somehow. Slightly off in all the ways that matter—to me, at least.

“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”

“If that’s true,” she mumbles, “then it’s because Sutton’s been kind about me.”

“Your sister is always kind. But that’s not the point. I know a pathetic person when I see one. You’re not it.”

She gives me a watery smile and reaches for her fork. “I am kinda hungry.”

“Eat first,” I encourage. “We can talk afterwards.”

She spoons a mouthful of food and chews slowly, watching me the whole time.

When she swallows, she asks, “Is this what you do for all the shell-shocked, abused women you pick up?”

“Only the ones that are related to my fiancée.”

“You guys are engaged… again?” Sydney’s eyes bulge, then narrow. “You didn’t force her into it, did you?”

“Do you really think your sister would be bullied into an engagement with me?”

She takes another bite of macaroni. “Not bullied, but… persuaded. Coerced.” She sighs. “Palmer women don’t have very good judgement when it comes to men. Especially ones we’re in love with.”

“Sutton knows her own mind. She’s a smart, strong, capable woman. She said yes to me because she wanted to. No other reason.”

Sydney bites her lip and glances out the window at the wealth of clouds passing by just below us. “It feels so surreal, being on a plane without Paul. I’ve never flown without him.”

“He kept you on a tight leash.”

“That’s how rich men operate with their women.”

“Not all rich men. I’m afraid you’ve just been exposed to the wrong kind.”

“That’s the only kind I’m attracted to, apparently.” She wrings her hands together, abandoning her food. “Do you really care about my sister?”

I nod, locking eyes with her. “Very much.”

“And you’re not going to mistreat her?” she asks. “Lock her in a room and throw away the key? Beat her? Control her? Demean and ridicule her?”

I notice the bruising on her arm. It’s probably not the only place he hurt her.

Those wounds will heal, though—it’s the ones no one can see that tend to linger.

“I will do my utmost to make sure she’s happy. I want her to have freedom and purpose. I am a man of control, but I don’t wish to control Sutton. As for beating her—only a weak man would do that to his woman. And I am not a weak man.” I lean back in my seat. “You can rest easy, Sydney, I plan on taking care of your sister. I plan on taking care of you, too.”

She winces and turns her face down toward her lap. “You won’t feel that way if you knew the truth about me.”

“What truth is that?”

“That it’s all my fault,” she blurts, her eyes watering.

She bites down and the tears disappear with all the suppression tactics of someone who’s spent their life burying difficult emotions deep below the surface.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, but I’m willing to bet that it’s not your fault.”

She sighs. “I used to pride myself on being the protective big sister. I used to believe that I was shielding Sutton from the worst of what we had to endure. But the truth is that that was just as much of a story as the fairy tales that Sutton used to devour.” Her jaw trembles with the weight of her confession. “Ultimately, I’m the one who put Sutton right in harm’s way. In fact, I pushed her into his arms.”

My hands tighten around the arm rests. “You’re talking about Drew.”

She nods. “I was a na?ve fool for trusting Paul. He assured me that Drew was a good guy. If I had been just a little bit smarter, I’d have realized that a guy like Paul wouldn’t know a good guy if he walked up to him and punched him in the face.” She composes herself, then continues. “I introduced Sutton to Drew and then I had to watch while that asshole reeled her in and then treated my baby sister like shit. The first time they fought, I confronted Paul about it. That was the first time he hit me.” She pales suddenly. “Shit, don’t tell Sutton that. She doesn’t know it was because of her.”

“She won’t hear it from me.”

Sydney sighs with relief. “It felt like that first hit opened Pandora’s box. After that, the hits just kept on coming. I managed to keep it from Sutton for a full year before she finally caught on. She really let me have it that day—she cried, begged, pleaded with me to leave him. I just downplayed it, told her that it wasn’t so bad, that I had started it. I even told her I’d gotten in a few punches of my own. I didn’t want her to worry, obviously. But it was more than that,” she says. “I guess a part of me felt like… like I deserved it.”

Anger courses through me. “No one deserves to be treated like that, Sydney.”

She attempts a half-hearted smile. “If you knew what Sutton suffered with Drew, you might think differently.”

“You didn’t mean to hand her to a monster.”

“Does it matter what I meant?” she asks harshly. “The end result was that she suffered for it. I guess, in my head, Paul beating on me was the universe’s method of payback.”

I bite back all the things I’d like to say. After this shit is done and I’ve dealt with Anton and the Martineks, I really need to get the Palmer girls a decent shrink.

“Don’t worry,” she says as though she knows exactly what I’m thinking. “I know that’s not how life works. If payback were a thing, then the streets would be littered with dead assholes and the women they hurt would be walking all over them in five-inch Blahniks.”

I snort, picturing that scene with vivid clarity. “Hey, I’d wear five-inch heels, too, if it meant I got to stomp all over Drew Anton.”

A bubble of laughter busts out of her. “I’ll give you this,” she murmurs as though she’s talking to herself. “You do seem different from the rest…”

“High praise.” I incline my head towards her in thanks. “But despite your confession, I still don’t think you’re to blame for?—”

“That’s because you don’t know the whole story,” she interrupts, her face falling slack again. “I knew I had terrible judgement. I knew I made bad decisions, especially when I was emotional. And still, I kept roping Sutton into all my plots and schemes to bring Paul to heel.”

“You really thought that was possible.”

“Didn’t I preface this confession by saying I was na?ve?”

I hold up a hand. “Forgive me. Continue.”

Her lips twitch upwards. “Basically, I convinced myself that Paul was malleable enough to manipulate. I felt sure that I could wear him down. I’d invested so many years in him already. Giving up and leaving without a thing felt like a defeat. I was sure that, if he just saw my potential, we could be real partners. In life and in business. I always had the head for it. And now—” She pauses, her eyes growing distant. “—oh, God, now, he doesn’t have a head at all.”

At first, I think she’s sobbing. But when her hands come away from her face, I realize she’s laughing.

Hysterically.

Tears pour down her face as she stammers out words I can’t make head or tail of.

“I-I… I’m sorry,” she guffaws, wiping her face with her napkin. “I… d-don’t know… what’s gotten into me…”

“You’re still in shock,” I explain calmly.

She hiccups, her laughter dying all of a sudden. She blinks at me, her nostrils flaring. “I know I seem like it, but I’m not insane.”

“I believe you.”

“You know the worst part?” She gazes out of the window again. “Even after she had the courage to do what I never could and leave the abusive relationship, I gave her all the wrong advice. I told her to find another rich man who would take care of her. And to make matters worse, I just stood by and watched Paul treat Sutton like shit.”

“He seemed to have a bone to pick with her,” I growl, white knuckling my chair.

“He felt she was a bad influence. Firstly, she had left Drew and he was worried that I would do the same. And she would always step in and defend me if he treated me badly in her presence. And after all that, when he called her awful things, I just stood there, mute and terrified, because I knew that sticking up for Sutton now would mean a beating later.”

What I wouldn’t give to bring that fucker back from the dead, just so that I can kill him again.

Except this time, I’d make sure to kill him slowly.

Sydney whimpers. “That was one of the reasons why I convinced her to do that boudoir shoot.” She gives me a self-conscious glance. “You saw that shoot, right?”

I stiffen. “Yes, I saw it.”

She sighs. “It wasn’t just about Sutton. I did want to make her feel better about herself. But it was self-serving, too. Paul was fucking his latest hire at his strip club and I was insecure. I thought a boudoir shoot would get his attention and make him forget his bimbo. Two birds with one stone.” She snorts derisively. “It was a stupid fucking idea. I should have known that you don’t throw good money after bad men.”

“So… Anton had nothing to do with the boudoir shoot then?” I ask quietly.

Her eyes flit to mine. “Of course not. Why would he have? They were long done by that time. Sutton was doing it for me . I don’t know how it happened, but somewhere down the road, our roles reversed. She became the big sister, the mature one, the strong one. I always thought I would be the one to look after her. But in reality, it’s the other way around.”

“It doesn’t have to be one way or the other, Sydney. You can look out for each other.”

“How?” she whispers. “I have nothing to my name.”

“You have your wits and your brain. That’s more than enough.”

Sydney smiles shyly, sadly.

It’s damn near heartbreaking to see someone who doesn’t see the good in themselves.

“I can see why my sister fell for you, Oleg.”

I smile back as best as I know how to do. “Get some sleep. When you wake up, we should be in Palm Beach. Then you can see your sister.”

While Sydney drifts off, I stare out the window, chest tightening with guilt as I try to compose an adequate apology.

Sutton was telling the truth the entire time. There had been no schemes or plots to entrap me.

She never broke our contract and she had been telling the truth when she told me about her involvement with Drew.

There’s only one thing on my to-do list when we land in Palm Beach.

And that’s to beg, grovel, and plead for Sutton’s forgiveness.