Dirty Little Collections: Sins We Never Speak Of

My dad’s office always smelled like old paper and stress. I sat in front of his desk, legs crossed, arms folded, staring at the floor while he shouted again.

“You’re failing every core subject, Amelia,” he barked. “Do you even understand what this means? You will not graduate. At all.”

I picked at my pink nails. I knew I should care, but the louder he got, the more my brain shut down. Mom never yelled. She talked. She listened. She was brilliant. And everyone loved reminding me of that like it was a contest I kept losing.

“You need to be more like your mother,” he said, as if reciting a line he had memorized. “She never slacked off. She never embarrassed this family.”

That one always landed exactly where he wanted it to. I kept my face blank anyway.

“I’m talking to you, Amelia.”

“I heard you,” I muttered.

He slammed a folder on the table. My grades spilled out—D’s, E’s, and two humiliating F’s. I didn’t bother leaning forward. I already knew what they looked like. I was tired of pretending I didn’t understand why I was struggling. Dad never had time for anything except rules and expectations. I was supposed to be perfect, and when I wasn’t, he acted like I was defective.

“You’re staying behind,” he said. “No graduation until you fix this disaster.”

I tapped the chair handle lightly. “Dad, it’s not that deep.”

He stiffened like I’d slapped him. “Not that deep? Amelia, you are two months from final exams. At this rate, you will repeat the year.”

I shrugged. Repeating didn’t scare me. His constant pressure did.

Before I could say anything back, he grabbed the phone. “Send him in.”

My head snapped up. “Who?”

He ignored me.

A moment later, the door creaked open. Dimitri Volkov walked in.

Great. Just great.

He looked exactly like he did around campus—dark hair pushed back, sharp jawline, cold eyes that judged everything they touched. He wore that same worn leather jacket and those black jeans that made him look like he didn’t belong in a school building at all. He had that slow, bored walk that said he had better places to be.

Rumor said he was connected to some biker gang. Rumor also said he held the top scores in three departments. Both were probably true.

He stood in front of Dad’s desk, hands shoved into his pockets, looking unimpressed with the entire situation.

My dad cleared his throat. “Mr. Volkov, we have a problem.”

Dimitri raised a brow. “Which one? The attendance thing?”

“Yes. You are being flagged,” Dad said. “Your absences are unacceptable. You cannot just appear for exams and vanish for the rest of the semester.”

“I passed all the exams,” Dimitri said calmly. “Isn’t that the point of school?”

Dad’s jaw tightened. “The point is discipline. You need extra goodwill points if you want to graduate on time.”

Dimitri gave a dry laugh. “Goodwill points? What do I look like—someone who volunteers for fun?”

“You will if you want to stay enrolled,” Dad snapped. “And I have the perfect assignment for you.”

Dimitri sighed. “Here we go.”

Dad turned toward me. “You will tutor my daughter.”

My head jerked up. “What?”

Dimitri blinked once and snorted. “No. Absolutely not. I’m not babysitting some spoiled brat.”

My mouth dropped open. “Spoiled—excuse me?”

I shot up from my chair. “Who exactly do you think you’re talking about?”

“You,” he said flatly, dragging his eyes over me. “Princess attitude. Zero interest in class. Always walking around like everyone’s there to entertain you.”

My heart kicked hard. Irritation. And something else I refused to name.

Dad slammed his palm on the desk. “Both of you, sit down.”

I glared at Dimitri. He didn’t even bother looking at me. He just stood there like he was waiting for this to end.

Dad continued, “Dimitri, if you tutor Amelia for the next month, I will overlook your attendance record. And you will be paid.”

That got him. He straightened slightly. “Paid how much?”

“Enough to clear your tuition balance and support your living expenses,” Dad said.

I blinked. Tuition balance? Living expenses? I hadn’t known he struggled like that.

Dimitri crossed his arms. “I need some time to think.”

“No,” Dad said. “You have five seconds.”

Dimitri sucked in a breath, jaw ticking. He looked at me then—really looked—and heat crawled up my neck under his stare. His eyes were dark and sharp, almost too focused.

He exhaled slowly. “Fine. But I’m not teaching someone who doesn’t want to learn.”

Dad smiled like he’d already won. “Oh, she’ll learn. Amelia, you’ll hand in your phone, laptop, and allowance. You will sleep in the basement. No social life. No internet. Nothing until you pass.”

My stomach dropped. “What? Dad, that’s insane!”

He shrugged. “Well, you’re too stupid to manage your freedom properly. So this is the solution.”

My chest squeezed tight. That word… I hated that word. But I didn’t let him see how much it stung.

Dimitri adjusted his jacket. “When do we start?”

“Today,” Dad said. “I’m leaving for a conference. You can use my house for the sessions.”

Dimitri shook his head. “No. I have things to do. She can come to me this weekend.”

I spun toward him. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Dad cut in, voice final. “You will. End of discussion.”

He stood, signed a document, and handed Dimitri a keycard. “Make sure she doesn’t slack. She needs structure.”

Dimitri pocketed the card, turned, and headed for the door.

I followed him out, anger boiling through me.

The second the door shut behind us, I shoved his shoulder. “You could’ve just said no. Do you seriously expect me to show up at your place so you can lecture me?”

He didn’t budge. He looked down at me with that calm, unreadable stare. “Your dad offered a good deal. I’m not giving it up because you’re upset.”

“I can pay you more,” I snapped. “Just pretend you tutored me. He’ll never know.”

His expression didn’t change. He stepped closer—close enough that I felt his breath—and he grabbed my wrist. Not hard, but firm. Controlled.

His voice dropped, low and unhurried. “I don’t take money to lie. I earn what I get. You wouldn’t understand.”

A shiver went straight down my spine. I hated that he could get that kind of reaction out of me.

He let go suddenly. My hand fell to my side.

“I’ll see you this weekend,” he said. “Don’t be late.”

Then he walked away like he hadn’t just turned my entire week upside down.