Dulce

He slides two fingers up to the knuckle inside me before slowly sliding them back out and doing it again. I sigh and spread my legs farther when knocking at the door has him pulling back moments before the door is pushed open.

“Dmitri, I—”

Miss Smith shuts up when she sees me sitting in the chair beside him, her face taking on that pinched look she seems to reserve just for me.

“Have I ever given you any indication that I’m okay with you entering my office before I’ve given you permission? I was in the middle of a private conversation,” Dmitri snaps at Miss Smith, making her flush more in anger than in embarrassment.

“I apologize. I didn’t realize you had company. I actually wanted to discuss Miss Sinclair’s attendance with you. If I had known she was here and not with Luke, where she is supposed to be, I’d have waited.”

“I’ll just go. That should make it easier for you to talk about me behind my back,” I offer, standing up.

“Your attitude needs some work, Miss Sinclair. I don’t know what they accept where you come from, but here we demand respect.”

“Respect is earned, not given. You’ve done nothing to earn mine and given me zero chances to earn yours.” I turn to Dmitri and give him a look.

“I’ll head home. My head is pounding.”

He opens his mouth, but Mrs. Smith beats him to it.

“My class is not over. The least you can do is turn up and hand your assignment in, even if you’re late. You cannot expect preferential treatment.”

Dmitri stands up, and I can see the muscle in his jaw tick.

“I’m not late, Miss Smith. I’m excused. There is a difference. It’s not preferential treatment when all students are required to meet with the guidance counselor once a month. Also, my assignment is done. I gave it to Sarah to hand to you because I knew I wasn’t going to make class.”

“The assignment was due last week.”

“The assignment was done last week. You just didn’t like it, so I redid it.”

“Is this the same piece of work we talked about before?” Dmitri asks, his voice deceptively soft.

It makes me wary, but Miss Smith doesn’t pick up on the subtext.

“No. This is a different assignment. Miss Sinclair joined late in the year and is playing catch-up. I had hoped she’d be further along by now.” She digs, but I don’t bite. I already have a degree in English, and her resting bitch face has nothing on Reese’s.

Dmitri looks at me. “Do you need extra study time?”

“That’s not—” Miss Smith starts, but I cut her off.

“No, I’m fine and all up-to-date. I’d really just love someone else to mark my work, though, so that I know it’s done fairly.”

“Why you little—”

“Enough!” Dmitri roars.

“You do not speak to her that way when the person at fault here is you. I spoke to you about this. I gave you the benefit of the doubt, and yet here we are yet again.” He stalks toward her, getting as close as he can get without touching her as he takes her in and grimaces.

“Do you understand how utterly replaceable you are? This is my school. These are my kids, and I make the fucking rules. If you can’t bow to my wishes, get the fuck out of my kingdom.”

“Dmitri—” She places her hand over her chest and gasps at his outburst.

“It’s Mr. Aslanov to you. Consider this your final warning. The next time I have to talk to you, I’ll have you escorted out.

“You. I want all your assignments for Miss Smith’s class delivered here to me, the new versions and the originals she made you rewrite if you have them.”

“Yes, Dmitri.” I deliberately call him by his first name to rub a little salt in her wounds because I’m petty like that.

That damn lip twitches again, making me want to bite it. Who knew this authority thing would be such a turn-on?

“We’ll continue this meeting later. Go home and rest. I know you’ve had a taxing day.”

Now he’s laying it on a bit thick, but I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. I nod, slip my bag over my shoulder, and head to the door.

“Oh, and Miss Sinclair?”

I turn and wait for him to continue.

“I’ll order Chinese food for you and the boys, so don’t worry about eating in the cafeteria tonight.”

I blink, surprised at that, but nowhere near as surprised as Miss Smith.

I don’t know why he just played that hand when the man is immensely private. I narrow my eyes, knowing he made that move strategically. I just don’t know why. The enigma of Dmitri Aslanov is as alluring as it is confusing, but one thing I don’t do is underestimate him.

Shit like that will get a person killed. Do I think he’ll have Miss Smith whacked for insubordination? No, I doubt the teachers’ union would be impressed, and it seems a waste of Bratva resources if he still has access to any. But somehow, I suspect if he wanted to, he could make death seem like a far sweeter option.