Paying The Bratva’s Debt

are you ever coming back from New York? Or are you just going to stay there now that you’re a big-shot lawyer.”
I roll my eyes. “Not a lawyer, Zoey. I still need to take the Bar.”
“Well, enough of one that big firms want to wine and dine your fancy ass,” she teases.
I smile, but I still feel like shit for lying to my friend. Zoey seems to sense it, too.
“What’s going on, Fiona? You seem out of it.”
I shrug. “I don’t know…”
“C’mon, spill it. Is the job offer still good?”
“It’s fine, yeah,” I mumble. “It’s just… I don’t know.”
“Maybe you’re just homesick?” she ventures.
“Maybe…” I shrug to myself. “I don’t, Zoey. Yeah, maybe that’s it.”
“How’s the office been?”
I glance around sullenly at my quarters.
“Limiting.”
“The potential co-workers?”
I think of Nina’s condescending sneers. “Petty.”
Zoey sighs. “Shit, I’m sorry. How about your boss, though?”
“Oh my God, a bossy, pushy, domineering prick.” I don’t give a shit that I’m probably being listened to by Viktor’s own people. Good. They can tell him exactly what I think.
“He walks into every room like he owns it, Zoey. And everything’s this growly thing with him. Like he can’t just talk, he has to growl it like this macho man thing. And he’s so controlling, and grumpy, and he’s got that clenched jaw scowl thing constantly.”
Zoey snickers. “Is he hot?”
I blush. My thoughts quickly flash back to earlier, by the pool. I remember watching him dive in, not even seeing me there on the side. I replay the way I felt like a peeping Tom watching him swim back and forth, his muscles bulging under his tattoos. And then, I replay the part when he got out—when he touched me and kissed me. When he made me explode on his fingers like that, demanding that I come.
Suddenly, I’m aware of Zoey laughing.
“What?” I snap.
She giggles. “Well, I asked if this grumpy, dominant, growly boss of yours was hot and you just went quiet.”
I blush deeply. “I was thinking about what a dick he is.”
“Oh, you were thinking about dick alright.”
“Zoey!” I gasp. “Seriously?!”
“Well answer the question!”
I simmer, blushing deeply and worrying my lip.
“Yeah, that’s still silence—”
“He’s cute, alright?”
“So he’s hot.”
I feel my face grow warmer. “Maybe,” I mumble.
She crows a laugh. “So, grumpy, growly, snarly, and hot. And he’s your boss at this swank new job in New York. Fiona, I can pretty much assume I’m never seeing you again, right?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s not true.”
“Well at the least, maybe you can finally lose your v-card.”
My face turns crimson. “He’s my boss, Zoey!”
“I mean, not yet he isn’t. Technically.”
No, technically, he’s the vicious killer who has me under lock and key in my own bedroom. And I still can’t stop fantasizing about him.
“This conversation is over,” I mumble.
She laughs. “Okay, okay. Sorry for teasing.”
“Well how about you, huh?” I push back. “Chet Brubaker been sniffing around anymore?”
Zoey instantly stops giggling. “No,” she says quickly.
“Zoo-eeey,” I tease.
“Eww, no, Fiona,” she says quickly. “No Chet. Gross.”
I frown at her sudden change in tone. “Anything else on your end you want to talk—”
“You know what, shit, I have to run.”
My brows knit. “Oh, uh, okay. You okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” she says quickly. “Chat later. Bye!”
She quickly hangs up. I’m confused as I stare at the phone in my hand. But finally, I shrug. I fall back on the bed, drumming my fingers on the comforter. My thoughts, predictably, wander to Viktor. I start to wonder where he is, and who he’s with. Who are these “guests of honor” he had to go meet with? Bravta types? Business associates?
My mouth purses tightly. Or, girls, maybe? Images of Viktor cavorting around with underwear models or a bunch of skanky club girls burn through my mind. I scowl, pushing them away. The sting of jealousy singes me, making me pout as I glare at the ceiling.
I hate that I’m jealous of imaginary women having imaginary fun with the man I shouldn’t be wanting in the first place.
My phone rings suddenly. I glance at it to see that it’s Zoey again.
“Hey, what’s—”
“I have to tell you something,” she blurts. I can hear the panic in her voice, and I frown.
“Of course,” I say gently. “Zoey, whatever it is—”
“It’s your dad,” she says quickly. “He’s…” she groans. “Zoey, he’s been… sexting me.”
My face scrunches up. “Eew! What?!”
“I was walking past your building yesterday and saw him as his car was pulling up. He invited me in, and I mean, I’ve been to your house a million times, so I went up.”
My stomach knots. “Wait, what did he do?”
“Nothing! Well, he sort of tried to…” she groans. “We were alone, and I was talking about you and your job. But he kept changing the subject back to me. He kept asking questions about my life, which were fine at first. But then it was like, do I have a boyfriend. Do I like older guys, that sort of stuff.”
I make a face. “Eww! Are you kidding me?!”
“I left, Fiona. I just made up some excuse and ran out. But he’s been texting me… stuff, since then. Like, flirty stuff, and then when I didn’t know how to respond, he got bolder.”
“Oh my God, Zoey, I’m so, so sorry. That’s so fucking gross.”
“He, uh…” she takes a breath. “He sent me a picture of himself naked an hour ago, Fiona. Like it was an accident, but it wasn’t?”
I groan, feeling ill. “Okay, that’s so gross. I’m so sorry!”
There’s a long pause, and I frown.
“Zoey?”
“I…” she breathes quietly. “There’s actually something else. I told myself I’d never tell you this, because I just never wanted you to have to look at your dad like this…”
I feel cold as my mouth thins. “Zoey, what is it?”
“It’s not the first time he’s done this,” she whispers.
My mouth falls open. “You’re joking.”
“I wish I was.”
I blanche. “Oh my God, when?”
She groans. “That’s actually the worst part. It was…a while ago.”
My stomach knots. “Oh my fucking God.”
“It was when we were seniors in