Page 32 of Sinful Games

Damn, I love this game.

Sure, she was surprised when she saw me, but there was something else in her eyes—something that looked like... fire.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think she’d actually let me into her place.

When I saw her in that tiny, freezing, empty excuse for an apartment, I nearly lost it. I wanted to scoop her up and offer her one of my condos.

Seriously, she’s way too fucking gorgeous for this shit hole. If it got any more depressing, it’d be a goddamn tomb. How she hasn’t started charging rent to the probably living-with-her rats is beyond me.

As I smoked and listened to her talk, I realized her voice was so soothing I could easily listen to it for hours. Who knew? Even in my monstrous world, I still had a few scraps of decency left, so I decided to share a bit of my own story with her.

Something clicked between us in that moment. I felt this strong pull toward her vulnerability—like she was a puzzle with missing pieces, and I was itching to put her back together. She was this captivating mess, and I wanted to understand every bit of it.

And yeah, I won’t lie, I was dying to fuck her and see those fiery emerald eyes go soft, to eat her pussy like a candy.

Yep. Even monsters have their cravings.

"When are you heading to New York?"

I knocked back a shot of vodka, feeling the burn as it slid down my throat. "In two weeks."

"Why not now?"

I grinned. "Got something I need to sort out first."

He scoffed. "She won't fuck you, you know? She's notthatnaive."

I remained silent, opting instead to retrieve my phone from my pocket and scroll through to find Angelo Lazzio's number, a friend of minebased in NYC.

As the waitress eventually made her way over with our meals—steaks cooked to perfection, fries generously drizzled with mushroom sauce—she not only delivered our food but also discreetly slipped a folded piece of paper into my hand.

With a graceful sway of her hips, she walked away.

"But seems like this one's willing to," Volk remarked with a mouthful of fries.

I glanced at the paper and unfolded it.

It had a phone number with a message above:

I want you two ;)

I casually slipped it into my pocket.

Volk’s disbelief that Caia would ever end up in my bed just made me more determined.

"Why wouldn't she?"

"Because she’ll make you fall in love with her and you’ll never let her go," he shrugged.

I scoffed. "Fall in love? I just wanna see her tits, that’s all.”

Love, in my book, is just a glorified fairy tale shoved down our throats by today’s movies. It promises happiness but delivers a whole lot of pain and tragedy instead.

Just look at Igor—deeply in love with his wife, only for fate to play a cruel joke and snatch her and their baby away. Now he’s stuck playing amateur ghost hunter, trying to fix what’s beyond repair. Every corner of his home is a reminder of his epic fail of a love story.

Volk chewed on his steak and said, ‘Don’t fuck her.’

I didn’t even look up, just shrugged. "Let’s keep my personal life out of your steak dinner conversation."

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