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“You’re a smart woman, and you didn’t need me to get involved.”

“You got involved with Warren.”

“She made you cry,” I repeated. “Unnecessarily. You give some people a podium, they think they’re God.”

“I’m standing next to an egomaniac. So I know you’d know.”

I grimaced. “I’m not an egomaniac. I just like everything in its place.”

“The place of your choosing,” she grumbled.

She peered up at me through beautiful crystalline eyes, her doll-like complexion hadn’t faded even with pregnancy, but there were, to my utter joy, laugh lines that were making an appearance at the corners of her mouth.

Inessa was happy.

I made sure that she was.

It was my duty, as well as my honor, to make sure she was.

“What else did you do to Forrester?”

I could have hedged my bets but I didn’t want her doubting herself.

If she looked at me with sorrow again, I didn’t know what I’d do.

“Sliced off his finger and fed it to Charlie,” I admitted easily.

Her nose crinkled. “Please tell me that’s a joke.”

“I don’t joke about amputation.”

Her mouth twisted. “That’s gross.”

“You shouldn’t have asked,” I chided.

“Why did you do that?”

“It was symbolic.”

Her gaze turned pensive. “Symbolic?”

“Pointer finger, on his dominant hand…”

“It’ll be awkward for him to write,” she breathed, understanding dawning.

“It will.” I smiled.

“I don’t trust that smile.”

“You’d be wise not to.”

She huffed. “Do you think… will Charlie be sick?”

“He eats his own shit, Inessa. This is practically cordon bleu cuisine for him.”

“Oh, Christ, if he chokes on a finger bone, it’s not coming out of my pocket when we have to go to the vet.”

I grinned. “I’ll gladly pay the vet bill.”

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