Page 57 of Sinful Games

I knew exactly what I had to do now.

I knocked on the door with three hard, deliberate raps that sliced through the silence of the night.

After what felt like an eternity, the door groaned open, and there she was—Caia, looking like she’d just rolled out of bed. Her eyes were red and makeup-free, blinking groggily in the dim hallway light. Her hair was in a messy bun that barely held it together, and she wore some ridiculous pajamas—white-and-red shorts covered in tiny Christmas trees clashing with a red, long-sleeved shirt. Cozy, fluffy slippers on her feet.

I hadn’t seen her since two nights ago when she came so hard on my hand, I almost needed a mop to clean up the mess.

For a moment, we just stood there in silence.

Her eyes went wide with shock, a flash of fear and irritation crossing her face at the sight of me on her doorstep. She looked like she’d seen a ghost—or at least someone who was going to ruin her night.

If she only fucking knew.

Then she tried to slam the door shut, but I stuck my hand in the way, blocking it. The door banged against my hand, and I watched as frustration settled into a deep frown on her face while she glared at me.

“What do you want?” she breathed out, still half-asleep.

“I brought you a little something,” I said, lifting my bag with a smirk.

Her face drained of color as she opened the door wider. “This better not be Mr. Playboy’s hands, or I swear?—”

Mr. Playboy? More like Mr. Annoying-as-Hell Italian Ass, Francesco Ricci.

Right now, his body was buried deep in Moscow’s Natural Park, and in a few days, he’d be a buffet for the local wildlife. Sure, I could tell myself it was about the 15K he skimmed from us, but let’s not pretend. I killed him because he laid his handson her. He touched something that wasn't his, and I couldn’t let that slide.

If I don’t get to touch her, then no other bastard ever will. She doesn’t even realize it yet, but she’s already mine. And anyone who forgets that? Will end up like Ricci.

I let out a dark laugh. “Relax, I brought dessert. We need to talk.”

For tonight, I had a very specific plan—a simple one really: dessert, her stripped naked, and my mouth buried between her legs.

Her eyes flicked between my face and the white bag in my hand, confusion plain as day. She clutched the door, like it was going to protect her from me.

“What iswrongwith you? You call me a pathetic, desperate bitch, then show up with dessert?”

The corner of my mouth curved. “I never said you were a bitch, sweetheart.”

She crossed her arms, glaring. “Oh, right. My mistake—you called me a whore.”

“Well, I’m hoping you’ll bemywhore one day, but for now, I think we should work on fixing our issues.”

She gasped. «You bast?—”

“It’s a berry pavlova, your favorite.” I took a step closer. “Come on, let me in. I don’t want to wake the whole building, though I bet some of your patients wouldn’t mind the company.” I winked.

Her lips curled into a sneer. “I’ve had a shitty day, I’m exhausted, and the last thing I want is to spend time with you, Romaniev,” she spat out coldly, making another attempt to slam the door.

But I was quicker. I shoved the door open, stepping insidebefore she could even process it. The door clicked shut behind me as I twisted the lock.

She let out an exasperated sigh, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?”

Without another word, she turned and walked to her small kitchen.

I scanned the room, my gaze sweeping over the small sofa draped with a fluffy plaid and a flower-shaped cushion nestled in one corner. A few flickering candles gave off the fresh scent of sheets and cinnamon, making the place feel warmer than I expected. Black-and-white photos were scattered across the modest table, and something about them caught my attention.

Curious, I picked up one of the photos. It was me in profile, eyes closed, face tilted up, with wisps of smoke curling from my lips. Behind me, tall trees stretched into the background.

I turned the photo toward her, a playful smirk tugging at my lips. “Impressive work, Caia.”

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