Page 47 of SINS & Riley
“Then you haven’t failed me.”
15
RILEY
Journal Entry | Riley
That exquisite meal from last night got upchucked around three am.
And now, I can’t get back to sleep.
Zver is a mindfuck, wrapped in Armani, deep fried in tattoos. And ALWAYS wearing that stupid mask.
And I’m still not sure which is bigger—Zver’s psychopathic tendencies…
Or, his dick.
By late morning, my appetite claws its way back.
I follow the scent of heavenly food into the kitchen—a big, beautiful space that looks like Zver locked Gordon Ramsay and a cathedral architect in the same room and let them fight it out.
Two massive white marble islands sprawl like Dancing with the Stars stages. High-arched windows slice the walls, latticed in wrought iron. Above it all hangs a chandelier—crystal and blown glass tangled together like frozen fire.
Gourmet meets goth.
And at the center of it, Babushka, stirring a steaming pot on the stove.
The scent hits first. Butter. Garlic. I breathe it all in. “Smells good. What is it?”
“Lapshevnik. Just noodles with butter and salt.” She twirls a fork around a fresh noodle and feeds me.
I’m not sure what’s with everyone in this house wanting to feed me, but I don’t argue. It’s too good.
I slurp the noodles while Babushka’s gaze slides to the rose I’m twirling in my hand.
“Your boyfriend likes giving you flowers.”
I shrug. “I guess.”
There’s no point explaining to this sweet little grandma that I’m Zver’s captive and that I hate him more than white jeans on period days.
But for the record? He’s not my boyfriend.
Though honestly, I’ve got no clue what label you slap on a man who’s worked my vag harder than my vibrator.
But I’m pretty sure relationship material isn’t it.
Babushka’s smile stretches across rosy cheeks. “Back in my day, I had many suitors give me flowers.” Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. “More action than the last hotdog bun at the stand. Everyone wanted to put mustard on it…sometimes two kinds.” She winks.
I choke on my noodle.
“But Dominic’s father…” Her eyes soften. “He did it for me. He swept me off my feet. And he… How do you say it? He melted my butter. Butter all over the place.”
We both dissolve into giggles.
Hers fades first. “This isn’t an easy life. He was a brigadier, you know?”
I shake my head. “A brigadier?”
