Page 148 of Sinful Games

They tried to pin her down, while one jabbed a needle in her neck with a sedative.

But before it kicked in, Caia grabbed my arms, her nails digging in deep, leaving scratches that’d stay long after tonight.

“Bring me my baby, p-please, Alexsei! If you love me, bring h-him to me…” She then slipped into unconsciousness, her grip loosening, but her words stayed with me.

So, I knew what I had to do.

The morgue.

A place I hated with every fiber of my being.

The frigid air, thick with the stench of death, clung to me, smothering any hope or warmth that might’ve been left in the room.

And there was this eerie feeling, like the walls themselves were whispering the secrets of the dead.

For three long days, Caia lay in that hospital bed, a shadow of who she was. I barely left her side, watching her drift in and out of sleep, her tears soaking the pillow, her cries tearing me apart. She was slipping away, losing her grip on life bit by bit.

I knew what we needed, even if we couldn’t bring ourselves to say it out loud.

We needed to see our baby.

One of the doctors, a petite Asian woman with glasses, led us to another room. Inside, shelves lined the walls, each one holding the remains of a child. My gut twisted as she led us to the right one—number 19050297.

That’s what our son was to them now.

Just a fucking number in a sea of lost innocence. Stripped of everything, reduced to a cold, sterile label.

The doctor carefully opened the shelf, turning to ask if we were ready.

We both nodded.

She slowly pulled back the white sheet, revealing our son’s face.

Caia’s sobs grew louder. Her hand shook as she reached out and touched his tummy. Lukyan looked like he was just sleeping, his blond hair framing his little face, his lashes resting softly on his cheeks. But his lips, usually so full of life, were a cold, awful shade of blue.

Seeing him like that—so still, so quiet—broke something in me.

Rage boiled inside me. This wasn’t right, it wasn’t fucking fair.

Parents aren’t supposed to bury their kids. We were there when he took his first breath, full of life and hope, and now we were here, watching him fade away forever? It’s fucking bullshit.

He should be laughing, playing, living— not lying there like some twisted joke of fate.

Caia was right.

This was all my fucking fault.

"Oh, my baby," she whispered, her voice shaking, as she kissed his cold lips, cheeks, and nose. "Oh, my poor baby, I’m so sorry."

I held Caia tighter, her pain stabbing through me like a knife.

"Why did you leave mommy all alone? Why?" she sobbed softly, her tears falling on him. "What am I supposed to do now? Mama can’t go on without you, Lukyan. I just can’t."

All I could do was hold her, knowing that no amount of love could ever fill the hole left by losing him.

“Did he—” Caia’s voice broke, her eyes full of desperation as she looked at the doctor.

The doctor’s expression softened. "He was poisoned," she said gently. "Someone gave him water laced with cyanide. He fell asleep, and his heart slowed until it stopped. He didn’t suffer."

---