Page 3 of Sinful Games

He chuckled softly and cracked his neck to the side. "Think again."

As I pondered the possibilities, I thought of the vices that often led men astray—money, women, and power. All threewere intricately connected, so Father Pasha must have toyed with one of these elements to ultimately gain them all.

"Prostitutes?"

"Da, my son," he confirmed. "Sadly, even a man of faith like me found himself ensnared in the dark pit of the world's true evil—women."

I couldn’t help but stifle a bitter chuckle.

It was typical for men to place the blame for their own flaws on the shoulders of others, often targeting women as the convenient scapegoat.

"What was her name?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.

I'd heard once that even the most notorious womanizers had their favorite prey.

"Katya Lenova," Father Pasha revealed, a wistful note in his voice. "A rare beauty, she came to me initially to confess her own hideous job—offering herself to men to support her only son," he added, a layer of sarcasm in his tone. "Her words and body held a peculiar enchantment, and I found myself ensnared in her embrace, sinking deeper and deeper, unable to resurface for a breath of clarity."

As his words washed over me, a metaphorical bucket of ice seemed to spill over my head.

No.

It couldn’t be.

"Katya Lenova, you said?" I questioned, my hands inching slowly toward the knife concealed under my shirt.

"Da," Father Pasha confirmed, his voice somber. "Be cautious, my son. She emerges from the darkest depths of hell. Satan often employs his most beautiful creatures to seduce us into the abyss of darkness."

Katya Lenova.

My mama.

I stood up, unable to remain in front of him.

I walked to the painting where the message of Christ’s sacrifice struck a deep chord within me. His golden tears symbolized an invaluable offering, while the rich red blood around his wrists spoke of a profound sacrifice for a greater cause.

In that moment, I couldn't help but draw a connection between the depth of Christ's sacrifice and the heavy burden my mama had carried as a prostitute.

Both sacrifices were marked by suffering.

I’m so sorry, Mama.

“Has she ever mentioned her son to you?”

Father Pasha reached for the bottle and took three big gulps. “Nyet. I made sure her mouth was always full?—”

He didn’t have time to finish his sentence.

My knife found its way to his throat, slicing through it like a sacrificial lamb.

That day, the Silas clan welcomed me with open arms, but my heart remained lifeless and cold ever since.

“You’re the one bringing up again that you fucked women who lovedmydick,” Volk said, jolting me from my reverie.

I laughed as I reached for my cigar. “How you get bitches is still a wonder to me.”

The casino's atmosphere shifted from rowdy to explosive when a guy who’d lost his cash couldn’t take it anymore. He fired a shot into the ceiling, and suddenly, all eyes were on him.

Tension reached its boiling point, and a nasty brawl broke out between two men, fueled by booze, bruised egos, and dwindling wallets.

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