Sinful Promises (The Sinful #1)

“Oh, Volk,” I gasped, my voice trailing off as I reached my climax, still gripping his hair tightly. The pleasure coursed through me, leaving me breathless and disoriented.

As I collapsed onto the mat, exhaustion washed over me.

Wow.

I closed my eyes and shielded my face with a hand over my forehead, trying to gather myself.

His hand gently brushed my hair, and I suddenly felt a new wave of shame. I turned to the side, letting his touch slide down to my cheek. Tears welled up, and I counted silently, trying to hold them back.

What was I doing?

How could I let him touch me after everything that happened?

The realization hit me like a punch, making it hard to breathe.

I saw flashes of my bound mother in my mind and couldn’t stop the sobs from escaping.

His disheveled appearance, wet lips, and the lingering desire in his gaze were a stark contrast to the turmoil I felt inside.

He gently turned my head, confusion flickering in his eyes, but then I saw that he understood what I needed. I tried to look away, but he held me in place, pressing a lazy kiss to my lips before pulling back.

“Helena took you when you were just a baby,” he said, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I let out a deep sigh, feeling my heart break bit by bit.

I grabbed my nightgown from the floor and slipped it on, the soft fabric offering a bit of comfort against the ache in my chest.

“Tell me everything,” I whispered. “Please.”

Now there was no turning back.

But little did I know, this was just the beginning of my real nightmare.

Chapter

Twenty-Four

“A mother knows what her child’s gone through, even if she didn’t see it herself.”

? Pramoedya Ananta Toer

Sofiya

Many, many years ago.

“Come on, Sofiya! You got this! What’s twenty-one divided by three?”

My mom’s voice cut through the quiet of our study time, and I looked up from my math book, feeling tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.

Twenty-one divided by three?

Confusion twisted my thoughts, making everything seem jumbled.

We’d been at it for what felt like forever, my mom patiently trying to teach me division. I never liked math, and my mom knew it.

But being homeschooled meant she could make me spend extra time on it.

An hour ago, we took a break when Dasha brought us fresh strawberry and white chocolate cookies with hot cocoa, seeing how much I was struggling.