Page 17 of Sinful Games

“Lanchekiev won a fortune thanks to your pretty eyes, my dear daughter. Couldn’t be prouder,” he called out with exaggerated cheerfulness.

I kept walking, my boots crunching against the snow-covered pavement, ignoring the car that followed closely behind me. My father’s face, framed by the window, wore a grin that could only be described as smug.

“Oh, and by the way, we’re having dinner at Igor’s tomorrow night. The dress I picked out for you is waiting in front of your apartment door. And don’t forget tobake some blinis. Men just adore those little sweet treats,” he added with a condescending tone.

The disgust in my throat was almost palpable, but I managed to keep my composure and keep walking, even though every part of me wanted to unleash my fury. After the fiasco two nights ago at Silas’ casino, I’d been in hiding, calling in sick to both uni and work. I’d begged Valeria for three days off, citing exhaustion and a desperate need to avoid the raging inferno inside me—a fiery anger that threatened to burn everything down if I wasn’t careful.

“Why? I thought everything’s already set with them,” I said, feigning innocence.

He scoffed, clearly not buying it. “You know why, Caia.”

I rolled my eyes and waved him off, not even bothering to hide my annoyance. He laughed darkly, then signaled Drayi to drive away.

There I was, rocking my favorite black two-piece jumpsuit, clutching my go-to guilty snack, mentally preparing for an afternoon of eating my feelings in peace. But no—of course, my father has some supernatural ability to sniff out any fleeting moments of joy and swoop in to crush them. It’s like he’s allergic to me being happy.

The thought of going back to Silas’s pit, and potentially running into Romaniev, was enough to make my blood pressure spike. That man—with his annoyingly perfect blue eyes, muscles carved like some twisted Greek statue, and height that made everyone else look like hobbits—was infuriatingly good-looking. It was like he was designed specifically to make my life more unbearable.

And my father? Oh, he's been lighting up my phone like it's his full-time job for the past two days, hammering in every single "brilliant" detail of his master plan to milk the Silas clanfor all they’re worth—at the low, low price of whatever bits of soul I have left. Bargain, right?

The memories of all the times I had to?—

Nope. Not going there. Not today.

I rushed back to my apartment, slammed the door shut, and threw together my favorite snack: peanut butter ice cream, heaps of pretzels and peanuts, a mountain of vanilla-flavored whipped cream, all drenched in caramel sauce.

Naked as the day I was born, I dove into bed with my little treat, cranked upPride and Prejudicefor the twentieth time, and let it numb me into blissful denial.

If only my life could hitpauselike this forever.

Chapter

Seven

“Between two evils, I always pick the one I never tried before.”

?Mae West

Caia

I touched up my red lipstick for what felt like the hundredth time in the past hour, my nerves making my hand unsteady. The car made a sharp U-turn, almost causing me to overdo it and end up with lips that looked like a Kylie Jenner tutorial gone wrong.

Red lipstick was my confidence booster, a mask that shielded the real me.

With trembling hands, I tucked my compact mirror back into my coat and fussed with my hair. It had been ages since I felt this nervous, and I considered asking Drayi to pull over so I could empty my stomach by the side of the road.

“Stop fidgeting; you’re going to make me sick,” my father said, placing a hand on my knee to stop its restless movement. “You look lovely, Caia. I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

I bit my tongue to hold back my anger.

I wanted to push his hand away and escape from the car, walking back to the city.

His‘it'll work out’essentially meant,‘he'll fuck you, you'll see’.

Bitterness welled up in my throat, and I couldn't help but resent him even more.

“Men enjoy a little chase, Caia,” my father said, giving his unwanted advice. “So, make him work for it. Don’t give in too easily.”

The urge to vomit grew even stronger.

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