Chapter 47: Chapter Fourty Seven.

Travis’s eyes widened in horror. "W-What?" he stammered in Russian. "Sir, please, I—"

"Get him out." Viktor snapped, cutting off his pleas.

Within moments, two guards entered and grabbed Travis by the arms, dragging him away as he continued to beg for another chance.

Xena’s stomach twisted in guilt. She stood up abruptly, her voice shaking with disbelief.

“Viktor! Why would you do that? The poor guy did an *amazing* job, and I simply appreciated it! You didn’t have to—”

"Enough." Viktor interrupted, his tone unwavering. He turned to Svetlana. "Clear the table. Get rid of *all* of it."

The maids immediately rushed forward, removing the dishes one by one.

Xena could only stare, completely speechless.

What the hell was wrong with him?

Because of her—because of her *one* innocent comment—someone had just lost their job.

She turned back to Viktor, eyes burning with frustration. “I can’t believe you.” she whispered.

Viktor, however, remained unbothered. He leaned back into his chair, watching her with an unreadable expression. His fingers tapped against the armrest, his voice calm yet laced with dangerous authority.

“I don’t like hearing you moan because of *another man’s* work, *printsessa*.”

Xena’s breath hitched.

He wasn’t just jealous. He was *possessive*. To a terrifying degree.

Her hands clenched into fists, her heart pounding against her chest.

She had to get out of here. She turned sharply and left the dining space.

♧♧♧

Viktor leaned back in his chair, staring at Mikhail as if he were about to explode. His fingers gripped the armrest tightly, knuckles turning white. Mikhail raised an eyebrow, clearly confused.

"You did what?" Mikhail finally asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. He had just heard the most absurd thing.

Viktor gritted his teeth, recounting the situation once more, each word laced with frustration. His fists clenched as he emphasized the one part that really got to him—the way Xena moaned when she tasted the chef's food. Viktor’s voice dropped in intensity with each repetition, as if the mere thought of it was enough to send him into a rage.

Mikhail blinked in surprise, then burst out laughing, unable to contain himself. "You fired him because of that?" he asked, wiping tears from his eyes. "You fired the guy because she moaned over a food? Are you serious?"

Viktor's face darkened, the veins in his neck twitching. "I don't give a damn. She shouldn’t have moaned over someone else’s cooking. I can’t stand it, Mikhail. I can’t stand when she smiles at another man, or when she gives attention to someone else." His voice was laced with frustration.

Mikhail struggled to hold back more laughter but managed to control himself long enough to speak. “Dude, come on. She was just appreciating the food. She wasn’t trying to make you jealous or whatever. And firing the guy? That was over the top, even for you.”

Viktor growled, running his hands through his hair in agitation, pacing back and forth across the room. "I don't care if she was appreciating the food. It *stabs* me every time she gives attention to anyone else, whether it’s a smile or a compliment. It drives me crazy. I *own* her."

Mikhail sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "Dude, that’s called jealousy. It’s normal—just don’t let it control you. You’ve got to get used to the fact that Xena is a kind, sweet girl, and she’s not just going to give you all her attention 24/7." He paused, then quickly corrected himself. "I mean, She's kind... and nice. You know what I mean."

Viktor glared at Mikhail for the slip-up, but Mikhail was too used to Viktor’s temper to care. "Besides." Mikhail added with a smirk, "you said you wanted to surprise her with a new phone, right? To make it easier for you two to communicate and move forward with your plan?"

Viktor gritted his teeth, still pacing. "Ugh! That damn chef ruined everything. I can’t believe I let my temper get the best of me. Now, she’s pissed at me, and it’s all my fault."

Mikhail leaned forward, shaking his head. "Look, man, you’re the one who ruined it. You need to get a grip on your anger, or you’ll push her away. Your possessiveness is gonna backfire if you don’t learn how to control it. You can’t keep treating her like she belongs to you. She’s her own person."

Viktor shot him a death glare, interrupting Mikhail before he could finish. "She *will* like me. She’ll come around."

Mikhail let out a long breath, clearly not convinced. "Alright, alright. But just one piece of advice. If you want this to work, you’ve got to make her happy. No dominance, no possessiveness, just focus on making her happy. That’s how you win her over."

Viktor’s jaw tightened at Mikhail’s words, but he nodded reluctantly.

Mikhail stood up, stretching his arms. "By the way, since she’s been in Russia, you’ve never taken her out. Take her out, show her a good time, ease her up. She’s been stuck here with you and your... ‘possessiveness’ for too long."

Viktor growled under his breath, his frustration building once again. "Fine." he muttered, running a hand through his hair, "I’ll do it. But she’s still *mine*."

Mikhail chuckled, patting Viktor on the back. "Whatever you say, man. Just remember: make her happy."

As Mikhail left the office, Viktor stood there, stewing in his own thoughts. He wasn’t sure how to fix things with Xena, but one thing was clear—he wasn’t about to let anyone, not even a damn chef, come between him and her.

♧♧♧

Xena sat on the sofa, her legs tucked underneath her, deeply engrossed in one of the books she had borrowed from the library.

She had been hoping that the quiet time would help her clear her mind, away from the chaotic thoughts of Viktor and his unpredictable behavior.

The words on the page were starting to blur together, though, as her thoughts kept drifting back to the dinner incident and how Viktor had handled things—poorly, to say the least.

Just as she was trying to focus again, the door to the room opened with a soft creak. Xena didn’t have to look up to know who it was; she felt Viktor’s presence immediately.

Slowly, she raised her eyes and met his intense gaze. Viktor, as always, seemed unfazed, his expression unreadable. He stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the space.

"You still want to hear the surprise?" His voice was calm, almost too calm.

Xena’s heart skipped a beat, but her frustration quickly replaced any trace of surprise. She raised her book a little higher, deliberately choosing to ignore him.

What was wrong with him? She couldn't understand why Viktor wasn’t acknowledging the dinner incident, or at least apologizing for firing Travis.

He seemed to be acting as if nothing had happened, and that drove Xena insane.

She had expected—no, hoped—for him to show some sign of remorse, but instead, he was carrying on as if it were business as usual.

Viktor’s eyes narrowed at her silence, and his jaw clenched as he stepped into the room.

"Stop ignoring me. I hate it." he growled, his tone low and dangerous.

Xena didn’t flinch. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I think that’s what you deserve.” she shot back sharply, her voice full of anger. “For firing an innocent man who did nothing to you."

Viktor’s face darkened as the words hit him like a slap. “And no, I don’t want to hear any surprise.” Xena added, her tone colder now. “Leave me alone.”

The room seemed to tense, the silence between them growing heavy. Viktor’s eyes blazed with something dangerous, something primal, as he took a step forward, his gaze unwavering.

"Why the fuck do you care about him?" Viktor’s voice was laced with jealousy, though it was clear that he was trying to control it. But it wasn’t working. “Do you like him?”

Xena froze, speechless for a moment. She blinked, feeling as though she had just been struck with an absurd question.

Her frustration built quickly, rising like an uncontrollable fire.

“Are you kidding me?” she snapped, her eyes flashing. “You fired a young man who was probably just trying to make a living—maybe feeding his family with this job. And you want to ask me if I like him? Are you really that selfish?”

Xena stood up now, the book forgotten as it fell from her hands and landed softly on the couch.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she glared at Viktor, who was now standing only a few feet away. His presence felt suffocating, but she refused to back down.

“Do you ever think about how your actions affect other people?” she continued, her voice rising in anger.

“All you care about is your jealousy, your need to control everything around you. You don’t give a damn about how anyone else feels. You just—just—act first and think later!”

Viktor remained silent, his expression unreadable, though Xena could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clenched at his sides.

He wanted to say something, but Xena had no interest in listening anymore.

"You're impossible." Xena muttered under her breath, turning away from him.

She couldn’t stay in the same room with him for another second. Her emotions were a whirlwind, and she needed space, needed to breathe.

Viktor’s hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before she could take more than a few steps.

The touch was firm but not unkind, and for a moment, Xena felt a shiver run down her spine. She wanted to shake him off, to yell at him to leave her alone, but something stopped her.

“Don’t walk away from me.” Viktor said, his voice quieter now, but still intense. “Not when we’re like this.”

Xena closed her eyes briefly, her frustration boiling over. She was done with this—done with the mind games, the constant back and forth.

She yanked her wrist from his grasp and glared at him.

“I can’t do this anymore, Viktor.” she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

"You make everything so complicated, so toxic. I never asked for any of this. I never wanted any of it. And you... you just make it worse every time you try to control me."

With that, Xena stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her, leaving Viktor standing in the middle of the room, his hands clenched at his sides, his chest rising and falling with every heavy breath he took.

He knew that he had messed up, but the anger and jealousy twisted inside him, refusing to let him admit he was wrong. Instead, he stood there, brooding, trying to figure out how to fix what he had broken—knowing all the while that it wasn’t going to be easy.