Page 83 of Sinful Games

After that incredibly strange breakfast, which left me breathless and still shaking, I figured a bit more sleep was in order before exploring Lucifer's home.

I made my way to his bedroom, adorned with black sheets, which gave off a mysterious and sexy vibe. Surprisingly, hisbed was neatly made, and the room was spotless—impressive for a guy. The large windows were partially veiled by sheer curtains, offering glimpses of the stunning Moscow skyline.

As I closed the door behind me, I ventured down the hallway and was taken aback when I opened the door at the end to find a home cinema. The room boasted plush red couches against black walls and a huge screen. Jesus, Alexsei was really loaded.

Shutting the door behind me, I moved on to the last door next to his bedroom, curious about what lay beyond.

Inside, I found what looked like his office—a clean, minimalist space with white and dark grey walls. A sleek black desk stretched across the room, adorned with a chessboard that looked way too complicated for my taste.

On one wall, a set of library shelves displayed an eclectic array of decorations—Latin vases from Colombia, Russian ivory dolls, and even a miniature Eiffel Tower. A sculpture of Dante and Beatrice embraced in a hug, along with a small painting of Tsar Nicholas, stood out among them. And then, there was a skull decked out with glittering diamonds.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that skull was real…

I hope it isn’t.

Driven by curiosity, I couldn’t resist the urge to explore further. I opened some drawers in his desk, hoping to uncover intriguing secrets. However, all I found were mundane papers on the stock market, the Big Bang theory, and an essay on the correlation between cancer and ultra-processed food consumption.

No wonder he was always cooking—man was obsessed with health. Yet, there he was, smoking away. Go figure. I suppose we all have our vices.

Buried under this mound of useless documents, I stumbled upon a small black jewelry box. With eager hands, I scooped itup and sank into the plush gray desk chair, feeling like I was sitting on a cloud as I opened the box. Inside, I was surprised to find two small pictures.

One was of a woman with blond hair and piercing blue eyes, likely in her twenties.

She wore an expression devoid of joy, yet there was a haunting beauty about her. She bore a striking resemblance to Alexsei, or maybe it was the other way around. The colors were a bit faded, and the edges worn. This must be an old photo.

Turning it over, I found a name written on the back: Katya Lenova.

I guessed that must be his mama.

A pang of guilt washed over me as I recalled the harsh words I had spoken about her.

Caia, you really are so stupid!

The other picture was of a small boy, probably around three years old, with a wide grin that revealed two missing front teeth. In one hand, he held a lollipop, and his joy was infectious. Looking at him, I couldn’t help but smile too. With light brown hair and bright blue eyes, it was clear this was a young Alexsei. He looked so innocent and endearing—quite a contrast to the man I knew. Turning the picture over, I noticed two simple words written in feminine handwriting: "My Alexsei."

As I felt like I’d stumbled into something deeply personal, I realized his office was his private sanctuary. Even though I was legally his wife and had a share in this house, it didn’t give me the right to invade his privacy like that.

With a twinge of guilt, I quickly returned the pictures to the box and tidied up the papers, closing the drawers with a gentle click. Leaving the room promptly, I headed straight for the kitchen, eager to distract myself by baking some cookies.

Grooving to the infectious beat of "Suavemente," I let the rhythm guide my movements as I swayed my hips, allowing the music to wash away my negative thoughts. With each step, I tossed my salad and drizzled on the dressing, the salsa music fueling my energy.

Checking on my cookies, I pulled them out of the oven—perfectly done. I figured I might as well multitask and prepare dinner too. Compared to Romaniev, I was a disaster in the kitchen, but I could manage a Caesar salad and salmon—especially with a pre-made salad and dressing I fished out of the fridge. Gourmet, I know.

Unable to resist, I grabbed a warm cookie and took a glorious bite, practically melting as the gooey goodness hit my taste buds.Thiswas the real MVP in life. Who needs romance when you've got cookies?

Closing my eyes, I let out a dramatic, satisfied sigh, practically ready to marry the dessert. But then, a voice came out of nowhere, crashing my cookie bliss.

“Look at you, already playing the perfect little wife.”

Startled, I let out a yelp that could’ve woken the dead, the rest of my cookie slipping from my fingers.

“I dropped my cookie because of you!” I snapped, pointing accusingly at the fallen masterpiece like it was a crime scene.

Alexsei chuckled as he shrugged off his coat, letting it fall onto the couch. "You must be deaf. I called out your name the moment I walked in."

He then walked over to the sound system and abruptly turned off the music, filling the room with an awkward silence that made me feel uneasy.

He was right. What was I even doing? Why was I cookingdinner for a man who had forced me into marriage and taken away what little freedom I had?

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