Page 67 of Sinful Games

"At least I won’t have to pay for women, unlike someone I know."

He shot me the middle finger before sauntering off.

Typical.

I glanced at my bloodied knuckles, cursing under my breath. My fist was still throbbing, but hell, I should’ve hit Mankiev harder.

After our little announcement, Caia looked so fucking shocked I thought she’d pass out right there—white as a ghost. But the second her fucking father slapped her, I saw red. The look on her face—the flush of her cheek, the tears welling up, and the trembling of her lips—sent me over the edge. I should’ve torn that bastard apart right then and there. But she stopped me. That small, fucking helpless plea held me back.

Forcing her to marry me and killing her father on the same night? Even I knew that’d be fucking pushing it.

I slid into the seat, slamming the door hard enough to rattle the car. Igor’s eyes flicked to me, his brows furrowed, but he kept his mouth shut as the engine roared to life and we pulled away from the restaurant. Still, I knew he was seething underneath.

“Boss—”

“I fucking told you to stay the hell away from that girl, Alexsei,” he snapped. “But you didn’t listen.”

“Well—”

“Now look at you. Not only are you stuck with her, but with Mankiev breathing down your neck for the rest of your damn life.”

I clenched my jaw, staring out the window as the city blurred past.

I knew he wasn’t wrong.

But still a big part of me knew that the little witch was fucking worth it.

Igor kept going, his voice a low growl. "You're a Silas, son. You didn’t listen to me, so now you know what’s waiting for you. You’re gonna pay for this mistake, one way or another.”

Yep, my little betrayal was going to be punished. That much was clear.

"Can it wait though?" I muttered. "Don’t want to have fucking bruises all over my face on my wedding day. Can’t have the bride running for the hills before we even say ‘I do.’”

Igor snorted. "Pretty sure she’s already planning her escape."

He was right, of course.

Caia was likely scrambling to find a way out, desperate to ditch this nightmare of a wedding. The thought twisted something sharp in my gut.

I leaned back, a grim smile tugging at my lips. “I know, but I’ll find her and bring her back where she belongs.”

He sighed, navigating the winding roads toward the Manor as snow devoured the asphalt like a ravenous beast. “Your condo in Krasnodar? It’s mine now. Consider it your punishment for not listening to me. Don’t want to ruin that pretty face of yours, do we?”

I bought that condo a few years back for a million.

Now it’s probably worth three million, but honestly, I’ve barely set foot in it—too busy drowning in the chaos of Moscow.

So, he can have it all he wants.

“Great,” I muttered, a laugh escaping my lips. “Just what every groom wants—an empty condo and a runaway bride.”

He shot me a look that could slice through steel. “Keep it up, and you won’t just be losing your condo. You’ll be losing your fucking teeth too, son."

Chapter

Twenty-One

“If you build the guts to do something, anything, then you better save enough to face the consequences.”

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