Sinful Addiction

XXVII

ELENA CASSANO

His penthouse was on the Upper West Side and had the level of professionalism expected in a multimillion-dollar property. I stood there with my arms wrapped my body, my Chanel purse in one hand, and wondering how the hell had I managed to fall into the trap of the gadyuka.

        Now I was following him home like one of his female conquests. Somehow I couldn't find the heart or the fucking dignity... or whatever had been left of it—to stop.

I wondered if I had the dignity to walk away before he truly fucked me up. The truth... I did but did I want to walk away?

No.

I glanced over and caught his gaze in the elevator. He spoke in Russian lowly into the phone, the busted knuckles of the hand holding his phone told me he already killed a man tonight. Perhaps someone I knew or maybe someone he couldn't care less about.

I took notice of the way his dark suit matched the color of his hair. It was messy, a bit thicker and longer on the sides. The soft expression he wore when he wasn't glaring at me. His eerily perfect cheekbones.

Why did the most perfect man I knew have to be so damn evil?

Every single inch of Sin was perfect. If I wasn't so strung off tension, I'd want to punch him for being so flawless.

"I'm not on birth control." I muttered the minute we got off the elevator. I was seriously starting to rethink my choice of following the Russian home. How could I have been so stupid? The man could have tied me up and killed me on the way and no one would ever know.

He raised an amused brow. "I didn't know we needed birth control to have a conversation."

I ignored his statement. "Am I going to find tied-up children when you open the door?"

He was amused. "No."

"Okay then."

"Okay then," he repeated, running his palm across his jaw and, at the hint of amusement passing through his eyes, I knew he was merely humoring me.

He stuck the key into the lock, facing me halfway and watched my expression. "I should warn you. Roxy isn't used to guests."

Roxy?

Who was that?

The thought of another girlfriend or perhaps secret fiancé left an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach. I swallowed before I followed him into his apartment. I left whatever remained of my fucking dignity on his front step and would collect it when I left but for right now, I wanted to live with no precautions.

I glanced around as I entered. The first thing hitting me was the smell of antibacterial soap. His apartment was clean. Strangely. There wasn't a particle of dust in sight. No clothes spread on the ground like the closet of my bedroom at the mansion.

There were sets of hand sanitizer on each desk or surface area he could possibly find. Everything was sparkly clean like those cartoon shows with sparkles radiating off each corner.

It was at that moment I discovered Sin was a germophobe. He had a strong dislike to mess. Especially in the form of a five-feet-eleven Italian girl.

"My papà—"

He rolled up his sleeves with an intense look. "Told him you'll be staying with your sister tonight."