Page 132 of Sinful Games

Forty-Five

“The secret of life, though, is to fall seven times and to get up eight times.”

?Paulo Coelho

Alexsei

I threw my jacket onto the couch and headed straight for the fridge to grab a beer. I chugged half of it down before putting it back and washing my hands.

Fuck, I hate going to NYC. The jet lag always wrecks me and messes up my damn routine. I haven’t slept well in days, barely had a decent meal, and the city noise outside is driving me nuts. Sirens and honking everywhere—it’s like the city’s trying to make me lose mymind.

Thank God I’m finally back home. After that last call with Caia, where she sounded completely wiped out, I knew I had to be here for her. Valeria texted me just before I boarded, saying Caia’s grandmother had passed away while I was gone.

My heart broke for her, but I knew she must’ve felt some relief knowing her babushka was at peace, watching over her from above. I’ll handle things with Angelo and Scarlett from here. When Caia needs me, nothing else matters. She’s always been my priority and always will be—certainly not some freak trying to ditch an international superstar because he can’t have her.

So, I hopped on a flight back just two hours after that call. But goddamn, enduring a 10-hour flight with some dude snoring in front of me like an alarm clock made it impossible to sleep. What’s the point of first class if I can’t even get a bit of fucking rest?

I sighed and rushed to the guest room to shower and change into a simple pair of black boxers. Quietly opening our bedroom door, I saw only the soft glow of our son’s koala night light on the bedside table.

I shut the door gently behind me, tiptoed to the bed, and saw Caia sound asleep with Lukyan snuggled up beside her, his tiny mouth slightly open. Relief washed over me seeing them both peaceful and glowing in the dim light. I slipped into bed, let Lukyan stand between us, and wrapped my arm around Caia’s waist, feeling whole again.

Hours later, the warm sun rays woke me up. Groaning and stretching my sore body, I opened my eyes expecting to see the bed still occupied, but it was empty. I grabbed my phone and checked the time—it was already late afternoon.

Fuck, I’d slept for over 12 hours straight.

Disoriented, I threw off the covers and stumbled to thebathroom. But as I stood there pissing, a sense of unease crept over me. Something felt off.

The house was too quiet. Normally, Caia’s laughter would echo as she chased Lukyan, scolding him gently for messing with her plants. And Lukyan’s giggles and cries would fill every corner of the place. I didn’t realize how much I missed those sounds until they were gone.

Cursing softly, I went back to our bedroom to grab my phone, wondering what the hell was going on. It felt weird without the usual morning chaos. With my phone in hand, I rushed back to the living room, my heart pounding with worry.

Shuffling into the living room in just my boxers, I scanned the room for any sign of them. Then, I spotted a small piece of paper on the table. With a mix of dread and curiosity, I snatched it up, unfolding it quickly to reveal Caia’s familiar handwriting.

Good morning, sleepyhead!

You were just too precious snoozing away, so I couldn't bear to disturb you.

Valeria needed a hand with something, so we're off on an adventure with her today.

If you need anything, text me.

PS: Thank you for coming back to me safe and sound earlier than expected. <3

I let out a deep sigh of relief, letting the small white paper drop back onto the table as I slumped back onto the couch.

I'd never felt that kind of anxiety before meeting Caia, and it only got worse the moment I heard our little boy's first high-pitched cry when he was born. I remember cutting his umbilical cord, still attached to his mama, with shaky hands, terrified I'd hurt either of them.

The next day, Caia laid him on my bare chest. His tiny heartbeat against mine, her hand gently stroking my hair, and my heart felt like it was going to explode. Right then, I knew I’d do anything to protect and cherish them both.

Nobody warned me how love could turn your world upside down. Everyday feels like my heart and lungs are out there roaming around—one with emerald eyes, the other with my own blue ones. Living with pieces of myself out there makes me feel like a mess, like I’m only whole when they're near.

They're my rock and my weakness all at once.

Finally, I’ve got the family haven I only dreamed about as a kid—when I’d watch my mother drag herself off to sell herself just to put food on the table while my useless father drowned his sorrows in booze.

Valeria called me the day before I flew from NYC to Moscow, her voice heavy with sadness as she told me my father had died. At first, I couldn’t get why she was so upset. Shouldn’t his death be a celebration?

But then I remembered she’d only met him briefly years ago when I dumped him at her door, barely coherent and sick as hell. I never thought he’d hang on for almost eight years. Most people with throat cancer don’t last that long. But death seemed to be dragging its feet on him.

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