Page 31 of Sinful Games

My fingers fumbled in the snow, seeking anything I could use as a defense. My eyes darted around, landing on a fallen branch partially buried in the snow.

Without hesitation, I lunged for it, clutching it tightly, ready to strike if needed.

He paused. "Oh, you wanna hit me now, you fucking scumbag?"

I didn’t respond.

Instead, I held the branch in a defensive stance, my knuckles turning white as I gripped it with all my strength.

A sudden noise from a distance broke the tension.

It was faint, but it sounded like voices approaching.

Maybe they’re coming to help me!

But then, abruptly, not giving me the chance to even think, my father launched himself at me, unleashing a brutal punch that sent my vision spiraling into blurriness.

Darkness crept in at the edges as I crumpled, consciousness slipping away.

I woke up face down in the snow moments after.

My pants were soaked, not just from the melted snow but also, well, you can imagine.

It was night by that time, and it was pretty scary being out there alone and freezing.

All I could see was snow, stretching endlessly.

No signs of life, no one in sight.

It felt like I was stuck in some frozen nightmare.

Shivering uncontrollably, not just from the cold but from feeling completely lost and scared, I made my way back home.

Since then, snow has been nothing but a bitter reminder ofthe day my pathetic father lashed out, leaving me so frightened that I lost control and fucking peed myself.

So, yeah, I fucking hate snow.

“How’s Mankiev’s daughter? Did you fu-” Volk's words trailed off as I shot him a sharp, warning glance.

He chuckled, then took a sip of his drink, shaking his head slightly, his eyes darting around the restaurant.

"How's the count looking? How many kilos have we moved?" I shifted the conversation, trying not to go back to picturing Caia naked for the tenth time tonight—her long hair, her moans—things that hadn't even happened yet but kept haunting my mind.

All I could think of was her and only her.

How fucking pathetic, Alexsei.

"30 kilos this week." He pours me a shot of vodka, «Mankev’s shit's hitting the mark. That bastard was right."

I nodded, lost in thoughts.

I imagined she'd have this voice, like a damn siren, or worse, like some enchanting fairy leading me straight to my downfall.

I hadn’t planned on playing stalker with the girl, but once I set the game in motion, I sure as hell was going to see it through. So, I swung by her uni, waited outside, hoping to have a little chat.

She sensed my presence; I saw it.

Quick on her feet, she dashes to catch her bus, then zips into stores, constantly checking over her shoulder.

---