Page 119 of Sinful Games

“Keep talking, and I’ll make sure your wife becomes a widow,” Volk snapped back.

I let out a laugh and followed him down the hallway to the door on the far right.

Denis Krosovar swung the door open with a grin so fake, even a hyena couldn’t replicate it. The guy had just been released from jail a week ago, but you’d think he’d been on vacation in the Maldives instead of behind bars. Being a politician had its perks—so much money that nothing could touch you except death. He’d already been sentenced a couple of years ago to ten years for assaulting his secretary and her husband and for embezzling $200k from a party colleague.

But then he got out only a week later.

Now, he’d just gotten out of jail for committing homicide. Shockingly for some but not for me, he only received a two-week sentence at home with an ankle bracelet because the judge claimed there wasn’t enough proof. I guess the onlyproof the judge needed was the $250k deposited into his bank account to judge Krosovar not guilty.

Krosovar plopped down on his couch, where two naked girls lounged on their stomachs, munching on popcorn. One was blonde, the other a redhead, both with racks so big they could double as basketballs. I winced at the thought of lugging those around; it must be painful.

“What can I do for you gentlemen?” Krosovar asked, casually fondling the blonde’s ass while she giggled.

“A deal,” I replied, striding over to his fridge, grabbing a beer, and tossing one to Volk.

Krosovar might have been filthy rich, but his penthouse, with its 15 million rubles price tag, looked more like a frat house than anything classy. Thongs and bras were scattered everywhere, empty bottles of champagne and beer littered the floor, cocaine and ecstasy decorated the tables, and leftover fast food cluttered the kitchen. His place reeked of a mishmash of cheap perfume, food, sweat, and sex. What a fucking mess.

“A deal?” His brow arched, his hand still groping the girl’s ass.

Volk settled onto the couch opposite him, and the redhead immediately sidled up to him, planting kisses on his neck as he lit his cigarette. This bastard didn’t push her away; instead, he grabbed her tit and rolled her nipple between his fingers.

“We’ll erase your debt to the Silas if you stop buying Vlad’s shit and start buying from us again,” Volk stated bluntly, the redhead making out with his neck.

Krosovar chuckled dismissively. “Never thought I’d see the day Vlad screwed you over, but here we fucking are.”

I never expected Vlad to betray us either, but the knife he plunged into Igor’s back was a real fucking eye-opener.

“Don’t dwell on Vlad,” I cut in, taking a swig of beer. “He’salready dug his own fucking grave. You, on the other hand, still have a choice, Krosovar. What’s it gonna be?”

I took a few steps towards him as Volk abruptly rose, dragging the giggling redhead away. As they vanished into the hallway, a door slammed shut behind them, followed by sudden, high-pitched moans echoing through the apartment.

I rolled my eyes. Leave it to Volk to think now’s the perfect time for a quick fuck session.

Krosovar smirked. “You’re kidding yourself, Romaniev. Vlad’s shit might be dodgy, but it’s way stronger than yours.”

I leaned in closer, my patience wearing thin. “I’m offering your life, Krosovar. Take it,” I said, reaching for my gun, “or leave it.”

Krosovar’s smirk faltered. He glanced towards the hallway where the moans continued, then back at me. After a tense moment, he nodded, his voice barely above a whisper. “Fine, you’ve got a deal.”

With that settled, I straightened up, holstering my gun. “Perfect.”

Meanwhile, the blonde girl propped herself on her knees, her huge tits jiggling as she opened Krosovar’s zipper and took his old, probably smelly, dick in her mouth. Fucking gross.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it,” I said, turning towards the door.

“Already back?” I grinned, checking my phone. It was 5:45 pm.

Volk slammed the car door and started fussing with his hair in the rearview mirror, like he was trying to salvage a lost cause.

“Well, well, Mr. Speedy Gonzalez! But seriously, a face like yours and a dick deficiency? That’s just fucking tragic,” I said,shaking my head in mock sympathy as I revved the engine, heading off to the office with a grin. “Looks like you might need surgery for your dick too, my friend.”

Volk let out a frustrated growl from the passenger seat. “Hurry the fuck up. I’m starving,” he snapped, glaring at me like I was personally responsible for his misery.

“Impatient much, princess?” I laughed.

Volk reached over, snatched my phone from the dashboard, and dialed a number with a devilish smirk. He put it on speaker.

“Who the hell are you calling?”

---