Page 43 of Sinful Games

After what felt like an eternity, I managed to catch mybreath, sprawling on my back as the snowflakes drifted lazily across my face. I took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to savor the cold, clean air despite the searing pain radiating through my body.

Volk’s voice cut through the ringing in my ears. “I’m gonna kill him.”

I croaked, voice hoarse from the coughing fit, “How the hell did he know we were coming?”

Vlad, still panting heavily, muttered darkly, “We’ve hit that place before. He knew we'd come looking. He’s not stupid.”

I pushed myself up, wincing at the warm trickle of blood oozing from the glass shards embedded in my hands. Grimacing, I yanked out the shards one by one, frustration twisting my features. “Looks like your building’s toast now.”

All that remained was a goddamn disaster—rubble scattered everywhere. The warehouse, once a symbol of strength, now lay in ruins, reduced to a pile of fucking debris and wreckage.

Vlad gritted his teeth. “We’re heading to Saint Petersburg. Igor’s sealing a deal with his weapons dealer today. We’ll rendezvous there; we’re taking the jet.”

Volk nodded. “And Viktor?”

Vlad’s eyes turned cold as steel. “Viktor’s my business. I’ll take care of him personally.”

Igor hadn’t breathed a word about this meeting, and I’d had already my own plans set.

I forced myself up from the fucking disgusting snow, pain flaring through my body. “Can’t join you. Got unfinished business in the city.”

I knew I should be dealing with more pressing matters than Mankiev’s daughter, but a part of me wanted to see her again.

Volk’s hand landed on my shoulder. “This ain’t the time for chasing after pussy, Alexsei.”

Vlad’s laugh was dark, interrupted by a harsh cough. “Give him a break. I might just tag along myself.”

“You’re late,” she snapped, her voice sharp as she slid into the car.

I held the door open, eyes glued to how her red dress rode up, giving me a hell of a peek at her thigh. The garter and that tiny bow were practically mocking my control. My pulse was hammering, and a burning heat spread through me, making it almost impossible to think straight.

Fuck me.

I closed the door with a practiced flick and sank into my seat. The heat in my veins was more intense than the damn engine’s roar.

Clearing my throat, I ruffled my hair, feeling the damp strands cling to my fingers as I started the engine. “Got tied up with some business,” I muttered, feeling her eyes burn through me.

She leaned closer, her fingers brushing a damp strand of hair from my forehead with a touch that was both indifferent and deeply intimate. “Your hair’s still wet. You’ll catch a cold. If you were so busy, you should?—”

I grabbed her hand and pressed a rough, lingering kiss on her knuckles. Her skin was blazing against my lips, sending a surge of heat straight to my groin. I kept my eyes glued to the road, knowing if I looked at her, I'd be tempted to pull over and do something that’d screw up my chances of winning.

“Don’t worry about it,” I murmured, my voice low. “Ready?”

She gave a soft hum, barely more than a breath. The little devil on her shoulder lounged back, with feline eyes and a mischievous glint that mirrored the intrigue in her gaze.

“I was thinking of cooking up shrimp pasta with a creamy white sauce tonight,” I said, steering the car through the snow-covered streets toward my place. I’d had the cleaning lady come by earlier to ensure everything was spotless.

“With a side of arsenic?” she teased, her hands elegantly clasped in her lap.

I shot her a smirk. “Arsenic? That’s child’s play. I prefer my poison to be a little more... seductive.”

She remained silent, but a flicker of mischief danced in her eyes before it vanished.

I stole a glance at her, taking in the way her long legs were encased in black leather boots and how her fur coat hung open just enough to tease. Her red dress clung to her curves, stopping just above her knee, sleek and shiny like a damn spotlight. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, with a few rebellious strands framing her face. The minimal makeup she wore only made her thick, black lashes and those mesmerizing emerald eyes stand out more. They looked relaxed, but there was a glint in them that told me she was anything but.

When I spotted her a few weeks ago in the casino, she was a glaring anomaly in the murky sea of gamblers. Her tight dress, with its low back, clung to her smooth, sparkly skin like a sinister whisper of temptation. Her fiery, angry eyes cut through the dim light, making her stand out in a way that was both alluring and infuriating.

It pissed me off. She was way too fucking radiant for this place—too mesmerizing to be flaunted like this. She should’ve been locked away in a tower, hidden from everyonebut me. The thought of anyone else catching a glimpse of her, seeing her in all her dangerous beauty, made my blood boil.

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