Page 116 of Sexting the Boss

“Maybe it’s not as bad as it seems,” I mumble awkwardly.

Ryan chuckles, giving me a teasing look. “Did you seriously just defend Damien Zaitsev?”

My face heats instantly. “I didn’t mean to?—”

He laughs softly, waving off my embarrassment. “Relax. I know he’s the CEO and everything, but seriously, that guy’s shady as hell.”

“Shady?” My pulse spikes slightly, anxiety rippling through me.

He shrugs, glancing around casually before leaning a bit closer, voice barely above a whisper. “There are rumors all over this place about him.”

My stomach tightens. “What kind of rumors?”

He hesitates, clearly debating whether or not to continue, but eventually gives in. “I’ve just heard weird stuff about him having…connections. You know, back home in Russia.”

I swallow hard, feeling cold. “Connections?”

Ryan grimaces apologetically. “Yeah, you know—like, organized crime or something. Bratva. Mob stuff.”

I laugh nervously, shaking my head. “That’s ridiculous.”

He raises his eyebrows, expression growing serious. “I know, it sounds crazy, but think about it. He’s super private, has that whole security entourage always following him around. And did you see that tattoo on his hand? Totally mafia vibe.”

I flinch inwardly. I remember Damien’s tattoos vividly, etched over his muscular frame, dark ink tracing powerful lines. They did seem unusual for a corporate CEO—but the Bratva?

“It’s probably just gossip,” I say, my voice quiet, uncertain.

He shrugs, watching my face carefully. “Probably. But I’m telling you, something about him just doesn’t sit right.”

I look away, chewing nervously on my bottom lip. My stomach churns, a whirlwind of confusion and unease. Ryan’s words echo uncomfortably inside me. Damien’s secretive behavior, his intense security measures, the way Oleg and Roman had instantly taken charge—suddenly all of it feels more unsettling.

“Listen, Sasha,” Ryan says. “I don’t want to pressure you for that date. Feel free to say no. But I really like you, and I think we can make it work. What do you think?”

My mouth goes dry.

Damien’s face flashes in my mind again, his dark eyes, his lips tracing my skin.

A pang of guilt immediately follows. Is it wrong that I feel something for Damien?

Is it only because he was my first, because we shared something I can’t easily dismiss?

“I—” I falter, suddenly conflicted. Part of me wants to say yes, to find safety in someone like Ryan—sweet, uncomplicated Ryan. But another, deeper part of me feels bound to Damien, drawn irresistibly toward him like a moth to flame.

“Can I think about it?” I say sheepishly.

He smiles understandingly. “Sure thing.”

The day passes pretty uneventfully. I sit at my desk, finishing up my work, but my mind eventually drifts back to the other night—everything that transpired between us—and despite myself, I squeeze my legs together.

Why do I even feel this way after Damien dismissed me so quickly?

I glance down at my phone again—nothing.

Damien’s silence through the rest of the weekend gnaws at me.

Sure, he sent me one brief, polite text yesterday:Hope you’re okay. Oleg said you got home safe.But that was it.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, trying to erase the ache of embarrassment burning beneath my skin. I gave him everything—my body, my trust—and now he’s acting like I’m some obligation he had to take care of.

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