Sinful Games (Sinful #2) | 18+

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"To make a vow is a greater sin than to break one."

― Georg Christoph Lichtenberg

Caia

"I'm so sorry, Caia. I really thought he was a ... good guy."

I dropped the towel off my head and plopped down on the couch, letting out a big sigh.

The ticking clock signals that I have less than two hours before my father forcefully barges into my apartment, ready to escort me down the aisle to my soon-to-be husband, and the mere thought has me cringing.

Following my failed escape attempt last night, I sought solace in Valeria, who spent the night trying to offer reassurance, though the palpable sense of hopelessness lingered.

Right now, I find myself at a crossroads, it feels like I've got only two choices: marrying Alexsei or ... facing death.

The realization that my father has gotten wind of my intentions became evident upon waking this morning, greeted by the sight of three imposing black cars stationed beneath my window.

His men, positioned strategically, ensured that any attempt at evasion today would be impossible.

Freaking Alexsei.

Another betrayal knife launched at my heart.

"It's okay," I sighed. "I'll be okay."

Taking a seat, I carefully styled my hair with a straight blowout and then focused on my makeup—a dark, smokey eye that highlighted the green in my eyes.

If I had to go through with this crazy wedding, I thought I might as well assert some individuality and rebellion.

My gaze lingered on the elegant white dress my father left at my door the previous night, emphasizing the traditional symbolism of purity.

However, the bitter truth was that he had taken everything from me, leaving my life far from pure. 

Suppressing the rising emotions, I refused to dwell on the past.

I coated my lashes with dark mascara, meticulously checked my makeup one last time, and observed my reflection in the mirror.

I looked like a fierce feline ready to tackle whatever's coming my way. Perfect.

"What are you going to wear?" Valeria whispered.

I rose from my seat and opened the battered drawer next to my bed, retrieving the dress intended for the occasion.

Originally meant for my graduation party, it was a stunning long dark red Prada gown with long sleeves and a Bardot neckline. The mermaid silhouette hugged my body flawlessly, with a subtle slit on the right leg rising up to my mid-thigh.

This dress embodied the culmination of my efforts—blood, sweat, and tears—all that I had sacrificed to achieve success.

It was disheartening to wear it for such a dreadful occasion, but upon reflection, it seemed the perfect act of rebellion against a marriage I neither desired nor accepted.

I removed my towel, standing in my black Agent Provocateur underwear, and slipped into the dress, asking Valeria to zip it up for me.

"You look like -"

"Lamia, the demon?"

In Greek mythology, Lamia was once a beautiful queen loved by Zeus but faced a tragic fate due to Hera's jealousy.