Chapter 7

Tori

I stare up at the ceiling, my mind thinking over how much has changed since I pushed my way into Dmitry's life. Most of the session with Harriet was spent talking about how I met Dmitry. It was an easy topic. And a way to be eased in , I think.

Dmitry's hand runs down my back. "You're thinking way too loud," he mumbles sleepily.

"Why are we in your bed?" I ask.

He pulls me tighter to him and guides my leg so it's resting over his. "Where else would we sleep, Victoria?" He sounds amused.

"Well, it's just, we never really discussed all this. I've just kind of moved in."

"Are you trying to tell me something?"

"No. I just feel like I've pushed myself into your life and your home. Did you actually want me here?"

He sits slightly, his brows pinched together. "Where's this coming from, Victoria? Has someone said something to you?"

I shake my head. "No."

"Because if any of my men have?—"

"Why would your men say anything? Don't they want me here?"

"Jesus," he mutters, pushing my leg from him and sitting. "Tell me what's going on."

I'm confused by his sudden change in mood. "Nothing. Really, Dmitry, I was simply asking."

"Are you happy here?" He almost looks nervous, and I can't help but smile.

"Of course. Are you happy to have me here?"

His frown softens and he buries his head into the crook of my neck. "You have no idea how happy I am."

"Even when I'm acting crazy?" I ask, my voice slightly less confident.

He nips at the skin, forcing me onto my back so he can lie over me. Propping himself up onto his arms, he stares down at me. "I love all of you, Victoria, even the crazy. The therapist is to help you, not to change you."

"I know," I whisper, breaking eye contact. "She's nice."

"You think?" he asks, sounding doubtful.

I laugh. "She certainly put you straight."

"She's clearly a man hater. Maybe she's a lesbian."

I laugh harder. "Just because she didn't drop at your feet like every other female? Maybe she's just a confident woman who doesn't like a man bossing her around."

He grins, dropping a kiss to my cheek. "Like someone else I know."

"Me?" I ask innocently. "You just made me strip and I didn't argue."

"Because you know your place," he teases, kissing me again before dropping down beside me. "I've never had this."

I turn my head to the side to watch him. He looks sad again. "What?"

"Love," he says simply.

"You've never been in love?" I ask, surprised. He shakes his head. "What are we doing, Dmitry?" I ask. "Are you trying to save me?"

He turns onto his side to stare at me. "No. I think you're saving me."

Marshall is dressed and sitting on the edge of the bed when I enter his room. It's been just over a week since the incident and his face is still a mix of purple and yellow bruises, but the swelling appears to be better. "Apparently, you're feeling better," I state.

He grins. "If I don't get up and move, how will I keep an eye on you?"

"I'll have you know I'm on my best behaviour lately. I thought we could go for a walk," I suggest. He pushes to stand, wincing and clearly still in pain. I rush over, taking an arm and supporting him. "Maybe you should take another day to rest?"

"No," he says firmly. I arch a brow at his tone, and he smiles. "Sorry, I just need to get out this room."

It takes us a while to make it down the stairs and out into the fresh air. I offer to get Dmitry or Nik to help, but he refuses, insisting he can cope with the pain.

"Let's just walk around the house," I say, hooking my arm into his. He immediately unhooks it, and I stuff my hands into my pockets. "Sorry," I mumble.

"It's not you, Tori," he tells me. "I just don't want to upset the boss again."

"I don't know how you can stick around after what they've done."

"I told you, it's the life I'm in. Besides, it's not easy to just walk. I've seen too much, heard too many things."

"What does that mean?"

"It means, even if I wanted to, I can't just leave."

"Do you want to?"

"No."

"Because I can talk to Dmitry."

He laughs. "You think you hold all the power over him?"

I shrug, hurt by his words. "No, of course not."

We fall silent, the only sound being the gravel crunching under our feet as we walk. We turn around the back of the house, and I slow until we come to a stop. "I know Dmitry's father hates me, but why?"

"Why?" he repeats, frowning.

"I've never done anything to him, so why does he hate me so much?"

Marshall stares out over the field that lays beyond the house. "Dmitry's life has been following a set path since he was young. Marrying Vivian would've been easier for him. It was all part of the plan."

"So, I'm hated because Dmitry bagged off the witch and chose me? How is that fair? I didn't force him." Marshall smirks, giving me a side glance. "Okay, maybe I was a little forceful when I wanted him to notice me. But when I realised he was bloody rude, I soon changed my mind."

"If there's one thing I know about Dmitry Volkov, it's that no one will sway his choices or decisions. His father will settle down," he begins to walk again, and I follow, "as long as you hold in the crazy."

Harriet Steele is staring, waiting for my response to her question. "Yes, I get jealous," I admit. "I don't like to see any woman hanging off Dmitry, especially not one like Vivian."

"What makes her different from others?"

I fold my arms over my chest. "She's had sex with him."

"So, going back to the night you got angry, it was led by jealousy?"

"No," I snap, frowning. "Yes. Maybe a little. She makes me feel like I'm not enough, like she's better than me."

"Is she?"

"What kind of fucking question is that?" I snap.

"Do you think she's better than you?"

I think over her words. "No." I sigh. "Maybe."

"You said before that you think Dmitry's father has a problem with you because you're not her. So, what is it about her that makes her the perfect woman for Dmitry?" My heart sinks a little. I don't like these questions, and I hate thinking about all this shit. "I want you to understand where this comes from."

"I've had a lot of people in my life make me feel less than," I admit, "so maybe, subconsciously, I don't feel good enough to be on his arm. When it's just us, me and him, I feel at ease. But out there, in front of his world, I feel like everyone is judging us, wondering what someone like him is doing with someone like me."

"Describe Dmitry," she says thoughtfully.

"You've seen him," I say, shrugging.

"No, describe his persona. You said people might wonder why someone like him. What do you mean by that?"

"He's powerful. His presence is powerful, and people want to please him. He's got an air about him that makes people want to bend to his will. He's dangerous. You can just feel it."

"What about Vivian?"

I shrug again, not really wanting to think about her. "She's spoilt. She wants to be important, but I don't think she really is at all, though she looks the part."

"The part?"

"Yah know, trophy wife. She knows when to stay quiet, and she smiles at all the right times."

"What about you?"

"Me?" I arch a brow. "I'm normal."

"What is normal?"

"I grew up on a council estate with little to no money. I had parents who cared more about themselves than me or my sister. I didn't move in rich circles, and I didn't have parents I could rely on."

She glances at her notes. "You talked earlier about people who made you feel like you weren't good enough. Did your parents make you feel that way?"

"A lot of the time. Marcus could do no wrong because they needed to keep him sweet."

"Marcus?" she repeats.

I swallow the lump of panic in my throat. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Not even to explain why they had to keep him sweet, or who he is?"

"He was my foster brother. They got paid a lot of money to foster him, and he held that over them, so they were nicer to him over me or Poppy. I didn't get on with him."

"You talk in past tense," she remarks.

I stand abruptly. "That's the hour up," I say brightly, feeling relieved.

She gives a slight smile and begins to put her things away. "You know, for me to really get to the route of your bad dreams, we need to talk about some of the things that make you uncomfortable, including Marcus."

"And we will," I say, nodding with fake enthusiasm. "But we don't want to run over the time slot."

Dmitry

I wait for Victoria to see Mrs. Steele out. She's a hard-nosed bitch who I try to avoid where possible, but Victoria seems to like her and that's all that matters.

I head out of my office, just as she's closing the door. "Good session?" I ask, causing her to jump in fright.

"Christ, Dmitry, don't sneak around."

I frown. "Hardly sneaking, my krasota . Are you okay? You look tired."

She smirks. "Because you kept me awake half the night."

"It's hard when you're lying beside me not to get tempted." I pull her to me, kissing her.

Nik clears his throat, and I groan in irritation before turning to see him in the office doorway. "Your father is arriving," he informs me.

"What?" I snap, rushing to the office and staring out the window as my father gets out his car. "Why the fuck is he here?"

"I assume to see you, Boss," says Nik, and I spin to face him, arching a brow.

"You had men watching him, no? So, how did he make it to my house without us knowing?"

"They called as he turned into this area. Shall we let him in?" He almost looks amused, and it pisses me off.

Victoria leans against the door frame. "Should I disappear?"

I hold out an arm, and she comes to me, letting me tuck her against me. "Absolutely not. Let him see how amazing you are."

"I don't know," she begins.

"Victoria," I say firmly, and she clamps her mouth closed, "he needs to get used to seeing us together."

"I'm just really tired after my session and?—"

Her words trail off when my father enters the room followed by one of his men and Nik. "Father," I say, my tone irritated. "You're still in London, what a surprise."

"Don't pretend you're not aware of my movements, Dmitry. I taught you everything you know, so I'd be disappointed if you weren't having me followed."

"Is there a reason for your extended visit?"

"You want to discuss business in front of an outsider?" he asks, arching a brow as he takes in Victoria.

"She's not an outsider." I kiss her on the head. "Go and rest, my krasota . I'll come and find you when I'm done here."

"Yes, you shouldn't be here when Vivian arrives," says my father, straightening his jacket.

I briefly close my eyes, feeling the way Victoria tenses beside me. "Vivian's coming . . . again?"

"We'll speak about it later," I tell her, smiling in the hope it will ease her concerns.

"Of course, they're in business together," my father says, and I fix him with an angry glare. I hadn't gotten around to breaking that news yet, and the fact he's done it pisses me off further.

Victoria pulls away, looking at me for an explanation. "You're working together?"

"Later, Victoria."

"Now, Dmitry."

"We talked about this, remember? There's a place and a time."

"And I choose that to be now," she snaps, folding her arms over her chest in defiance.

There's a light knock on the door and Vivian breezes in wearing shades big enough to cover half her face. She slips from her coat and hands it to Nik, who takes it but looks confused. "Vladimir," she exclaims in delight, and I have no doubt her overfamiliarity is for Victoria's benefit. "How lovely to see you again." She takes his hand and kisses the back. "How are you?"

"All the better for seeing you, Vivian," he says, and he genuinely looks happy to see her.

"Is there something I should know?" I ask as they stare at each other.

They break apart. "Dmitry," she gushes, heading for me. Victoria steps in her way, and she comes to an abrupt stop.

"You can say hello from over there," Victoria tells her coldly.

Vivian's smile falters and she takes a few steps back. "New guard dog, Dmitry?" she asks, smirking.

I have Victoria around the waist before she can get to Vivian, but it doesn't stop her trying. "Relax," I order.

"I don't know who she thinks she is, coming in here and?—"

"Tori, lollygag," barks Marshall, and we all turn to the doorway, where he's standing watching the scene unfold.

Victoria immediately stills, then she laughs and I feel the tension lift. Marshall arches a brow, and she goes towards him. "I said you couldn't use it to save that bitch," she tells him.

"And I told you not to restrict my safe word."

I bristle at his words. They have a fucking safe word? Victoria has already closed the door, and now, I feel everyone's eyes on me. "Seems she just needed a man who can control her," Vivian says, sounding amused.

I clench my fists and fight the urge to march after the pair and ask what the fuck just happened. Instead, I force myself to take a seat because I can't give my father any ammunition to use against me.

"Is there a reason you arranged a meeting without telling me?" I ask as they both take a seat opposite me.

"It seems you've made so many decisions without me just lately, and now, it has to stop," my father mutters.

I bring my eyes to him. "The reason I make my own decisions is because this is my bratva here in London. I built it, I own it, and I run it. I don't need to run it by you."

"Is that right?" he asks, leaning back in his chair and smirking. "I raised you and set you on this path, and now, you want to cut me out like I don't exist?"

"Now, now," says Vivian, patting his hand. "Let's not get upset. We came here for a reason."

"Yes," I agree, "let's bring me up to speed on why you've been hanging around London instead of returning to Russia and getting your own bratva in order."

"Vivian and I have decided to go into business together," my father announces like it's some great idea.

I brace my hands on the desk. "Excuse me?"

"I've decided to keep the businesses my father left me, and Vladimir is going to help me."

"You've sold them to my father?"

"Half of each," she says with a nod. "We're fifty-fifty partners."

I pinch the bridge of my nose. "So, you approached my father to buy half your businesses instead of me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to go into a partnership with me," she says innocently.

"This makes no sense," I snap, glaring back and forth between the two. "How will you run things from Russia?"

"I'll be around a lot more." His words have my heart hammering in my chest. "And if you're so annoyed about the whole thing, I'm happy to bring you in on a third."

"I'm annoyed you'd both be meeting behind my back, plotting to go into business together. I feel like this is some kind of ambush."

"It's business, Dmitry," my father soothes.

I glare at Vivian. "Wait outside."

She scoffs. "You're not the boss of me anymore."

"Really?" I growl and see her falter.

My father places his hand over hers. The cold bastard has never showed an ounce of affection for anyone, and now, he's being touchy-feely with my ex-fiancée. "It's fine, Vivian. Let him get this off his chest so we can move forward." She leaves, and I try to remain calm.

"What's in this for you?" I ask.

"Apart from the money I can make, nothing."

"We agreed I'd run London and you would run Russia. It's worked well, so why are you changing it?"

"Dmitry, you're being paranoid. I checked over the books and it made sense. She wanted to sell them to some rich bastard in Florida."

"And you should have let her. You can't just buy into London and expect me not to react. You didn't even speak to me about it."

He stands. "You're forgetting who I am, syn . You might think you run this place, but it's under my watchful eye. We will have dinner this evening and you will be there. Let's discuss it like adults."

He stomps out, slamming the door behind him. I turn to Nik. "He's going to try and take it all, isn't he?"

Nik shrugs, but his face tells me he agrees.

I'm drying off after a shower when Victoria comes in and drops onto the bed. I'd checked the cameras and saw she was reading in the living room. I'm in no mood to speak to her after earlier, and knowing I now have to have dinner with the pair of them is not helping.

"You said you'd come and find me."

"You have a safe word with Marshall?" I spit, grabbing a shirt from the wardrobe.

She eyes me for a moment. "Yes."

"Are you going to explain, Victoria, or should I ask him? Because last time, that didn't go so well."

"We came up with a word he could use when I'm acting up. A word that makes me see I'm losing it."

"So, me holding you back and telling you to calm the fuck down doesn't do it, but he can say some random word and you just calm instantly and go off together laughing?"

"Did something happen with your father?" she asks cautiously.

"No, Victoria. This is about you and Marshall . . . again."

"There is no me and Marshall, I told you."

"But you didn't tell me about your little secret words." I pull the shirt on.

She crosses her legs and sighs heavily. "It's just a word, Dmitry."

I close the space between us, taking her throat in my hand and forcing her to lie back. Her legs open, falling either side of my thighs. "It's not just a fucking word," I spit. "It means something to you two. Something I am not a part of."

She places a hand against my cheek. "It's just a word, Dmitry," she repeats, staring right into my eyes. "I love you." It's the first time she's spoken the words in her own language, and somehow, it means more like this. I inhale sharply. "I love you," she repeats, this time smiling.

I press my lips against hers, sweeping my tongue into her mouth. "I love you too," I whisper against her mouth.

She grins, wrapping one leg around my hip and tugging me closer until my cock is against her opening. "I don't have time," I murmur.

"You're turning me down?" she asks, pouting playfully.

I pull back before my cock takes control and begin to fasten my shirt. "Be naked when I get home, we'll continue this."

She props herself up on her elbows. "Where are you going?"

I don't want to lie, but I also don't want to ruin the moment. "Business dinner with my father."

"And you don't need me to come along and protect you?" she asks, pushing onto her knees and crawling towards me. She reaches up and grabs me by the shirt, tugging me closer and placing kisses over my face. My cock strains harder.

"Men only, I'm afraid," I lie, kissing her on the lips. "Besides, I don't want to put you through spending time with him. It's like slow torture."

She grins. "Now, that we can agree on."