Paying The Bratva’s Debt

the temporary housing situations I’ve set up. In about a week, once paperwork is finalized, an organization Dr. Turgenev helped set up that I have no official connection with will alert the authorities of the rescue, and that the children will be invoking refugee asylum.
“If she needs anything, Mr. Komarov,” she looks back into the bedroom at Fiona lying in the bed. “Just call.”
“Thanks again, Lada.”
When she leaves, I turn back to Fiona. I close the door behind me and cross the room to the bed. I frown at the way she’s looking away from me, her face darkened. It’s been like this since the attack back at the factory site. At first, we were kissing deeply, clinging to each other. But since then, she’s pulled away from me. She’s retreated into herself, looking angry and walled-off.
“How’s your ankle?”
She stays looking away from me.
“Fiona—”
“I don’t know how to do this, Viktor,” she says quietly.
I frown. “Do what?”
“This! All of this! Before a few days go, I’d barely been out of my little gilded cage in my entire freaking life! I mean almost never, Viktor. I was protected, and shielded—”
“And kept, and denied the world, and—”
“I know that!” she snaps. “You think I don’t know that?! That’s exactly what I’m saying, Viktor. But now I’m here. And there’s you, and… things…” She blushes. “And that’s new enough to have my head falling off. But now there’s all of this other stuff too!”
“Fiona—”
“Maybe getting attacked by men with guns who want to hurt you is part of your average day, Viktor!” she spits. “But it’s not part of mine!”
I close my mouth. Sometimes, silence is better than trying to force an issue with words. I could promise her the world right now. I could promise to keep her safe and kept away from it all. But what would that be? Putting her back into a gilded cage?
Part of me gravitates to the idea. I could do that. I almost want to. I almost want to tear up the deal with her father and just keep her with me, forever. She could stay in these quarters, like a princess—wanting nothing, having the world at her fingertips. She could be my little crystal bird, locked away from harm. She’d be mine, and mine alone. Here for me for when I wanted to come to her.
My hands clench at my sides. My eyes close, and I breathe. I can’t do that. I can’t keep her like that. She may be mine, and she may be my princess—my little crystal bird. But you can’t cage beauty like that. You can’t lock away innocence. Keeping her here like that would make me the very monster I’ve vowed to fight and hunt down. It would make me barely a step above those pieces of shit.
What would the plan be? To lock her in these rooms? To keep her as my captive, and fuck her under lock and key until she loves me?
“I want to take you somewhere.”
Fiona barks out a laugh. “I think I’m good, thanks.”
I shake my head. “This is different. I want to take you someplace special—someplace safe. A place where you can breathe for a moment after today.”
She frowns. “Am I going home?”
My jaw ticks. “Do you wish to go home?”
I almost hate to even ask it. But it needs to be asked. And yet, she hesitates. She dwells on it, her lip worrying in her teeth.
“Do you wish to go back to that gilded cage of your father’s?”
Her eyes narrow. “As opposed to the one you’ve put me in?”
“There’s no cage here, Fiona. I want to show that to you tonight by taking you out.”
She looks at me curiously, skeptically. “Take me out? You mean like a…” she blushes. “A date?”
“If you’re under the impression that I’m giving out back rubs and orgasms all over the place,” I growl with a small smile. “You’re incorrect.”
She blushes shyly.
“So yes, Fiona. I’d like to take you out.”
“Viktor—”
“You’ve come on my fingers, Fiona,” I growl, leaning close. Her breath catches, and her eyes widen and spark as they hold mine. “Let me take you out.”
She worries her plump bottom lip between her teeth. But then she nods. “Okay.”
“Can you be ready in an hour?”
She nods, still blushing.
“Good.”
I cross the room to her walk-in closet. My fingers trace over a rack of gowns and dresses before they stop at one. I pull it from the rack and let my eyes sweep over the gauzy pink and shimmering silver. The plunging neckline and back. I turn and walk back to her, draping the dress across the foot of the bed.
“It would please me if you wore this.”
Her mouth purses. Her brows knit as she looks up at me. “Deciding what I’ll be wearing?”
“Yes.”
“I thought I wasn’t going to be that bird in a cage here.”
“There’s no cage, Fiona,” I growl. I suddenly lean over her, and she gasps when I hover an inch from her lips. “But you’re still my little bird.”
Her breath catches, her face red. Her eyes dance over mine before I slowly pull away somehow. “One hour,” I growl quietly. I turn and I stride from the room, before I lose all control with her.

13 Fiona
He stares at me with nothing less than hunger in his eyes. They sweep over me slowly, leaving heated tingles in their wake. He growls quietly to himself, and I tremble. I bite my lip to hold back the smile. And at the same time, I want to chastise myself. Why am I happy that he likes how I look?
For that matter, why did I do as he asked? I’m wearing the dress he picked for me. I’ve preened and primped in the mirror for the last hour, wanting to look perfect. Which is exactly what he—my captor—wanted. But for whatever messed up reason, I wanted to please him. I wanted to dress up in the dress he picked for me. And now I’m thrilled that he’s looking at