Page 36 of Sinful Games

She glanced around the room with a half-smile, crossing her arms. “That’s a shame. It’s actually a pretty nice place.”

I met her gaze while chewing, noticing how her eyes caught the light from the chandelier. There was a flicker of something in them—something more than just curiosity.

Her eyes darted briefly to the plate and then back to me.

I fucking knew it.

Her eyes truly were a portal to her soul.

“I haven’t poisoned your meal, Caia. Eat.”

Her eyes widened for a moment, clearly surprised I’d noticed her hesitation. She cleared her throat, relaxed hercrossed arms, and brought the fork to her lips. After a quick blow to cool the food, she took a deliberate bite. A soft moan escaped her as her eyes closed in satisfaction.

“Impressed?”

“How the hell did you learn to cook like that?"

"You want the truth, or should I make something up?" I took a sip of water.

A mischievous grin spread across her face. "Definitely the made-up one."

"It was my mama’s favorite dish."

When I was younger, I used to play the whole "tragic past" card to lure girls to my arms with tales of my screwed-up childhood and all the drama. Nowadays, it's as simple as a smile and a glance, and before I know it, they’re fucking naked, legs spread waiting for me in the most gruesome places.

She raised an eyebrow. "And the real one?"

"Well, the truth is, I once heard that the key to a girl’sheartis through her stomach. So, as a teenager, I spent more time watching Gordon Ramsay cook than I did studying for school."

She laughed softly and continued eating, her movements fluid and relaxed.

Good, my strategy was kicking in.

I sank back into my chair, my eyes locked onto her with a kind of fascination. Every detail was etched into my mind: the flush of her cheeks, the delicate sweep of her lashes, the way her full lips moved with each bite. She looked so effortlessly captivating that I couldn’t tear my eyes away once again.

“You don’t seem too rattled being in the house of a killer.”

She leaned back in her chair, her gaze steady and unfazed as she dabbed at her lips with a tissue. “Oh, please. Living among monsters is just my everyday reality."

I tilted my head, intrigued. “Why aren’t you married, Caia?”

She coughed, spitting out her water in surprise, clearly caught off guard by my question and the abrupt change in topic. I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of mess she might have been involved in or who else she might have tangled with besides me. But damn, in our twisted little world, a girl like her would probably be married off and juggling her third kid by now.

She swallowed. “What?”

As she attempted to cut into the salmon, her knife clattered loudly against the plate, making her wince. Her gaze shifted from the plate to me, tension crackling in the space between us.

I could practically see the little devil on her shoulder, all red and fuming, whispering to her to drive her knife right into my throat for having the audacity to ask such a question. It was like she was wrestling with the urge to either laugh it off or rip me to shreds for being so nosy.

“Don’t get me wrong. In this world, a beautiful girl like you can only be one of two things: a wife or?—”

“A whore?” She cut me off, her voice slicing through the air like a blade. She slammed her cutlery down with a sharp clatter, her eyes blazing with a fiery rage. Her chest heaved with anger, and it was clear that the little devil on her shoulder had grown into a full-blown menace, ready to explode. “I’m neither, Romaniev. I’m just a girl trying to… survive. Why is that so damn hard for your pathetic brain to get?”

I leaned in, lowering my voice to a deliberate whisper. “Let’s cut the crap, Caia. If your papa hasn’t married you off yet, it’s pretty clear he’s got other plans.”

Her gaze turned to ice. “You think you’ve got the right to judge me? To make all these disgusting assumptions about my life?Youof all people?”

I could almost feel the chill of her stare, like she’d freeze me in place if she could.

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