Page 15 of Sin in My Inbox (Sexting Spark #1)

Avery

The chaos of the hotel kitchen felt like a thick layer of grease coating my senses.

Dirty dishes were stacked like mountains, steamy white fog from hot water blurred my vision, but what I couldn't shake from my mind were the crystal chandelier's icy light from three days ago, the way my dress hem tickled my calves when we spun, and the branding-iron heat of his hand around my waist.

"Avery! Jesus Christ, that glass is for washing, not for staring at like some lovesick idiot!" Jimmy's shrill voice was like a needle, brutally piercing through my clouded thoughts.

My hand jerked, almost dropping the soapy wine glass I was holding. Ice-cold water splashed onto my apron, leaving dark stains.

"Sorry, Jimmy." My voice came out dry and scratchy as I quickly lowered my head, mechanically scrubbing the red wine stains off the glass.

"Even the kitchen rats could do better than you!" Jimmy's cruel words lashed out like a whip, completely merciless. His fat fingers jabbed my shoulder. "Go! The stairwell's so filthy it could breed rodents. Clean it up! And don't let me catch you sleepwalking around here again!"

"But the stairs were cleaned yesterday—"

"Just go!" Jimmy's voice shot up an octave. "Or get the hell out of this hotel right now."

I bit my lip and silently went to get the cleaning supplies. Arguing would only make things worse right now.

I pulled off my rubber gloves and grabbed the bucket, mop, and cleaning solution. The heavy burden made me stumble with each step.

Behind me, Jimmy started lecturing the new employees. I pushed open the fire door, and the stairwell's mix of dust, disinfectant, and a hint of mold hit me in the face. This place was worlds away from the glittering luxury of the ballroom.

I'd just bent down to unscrew the cap on the cleaning solution when familiar footsteps approached from behind. Mark.

"Hey, Avery, how you holding up?" His voice was gentle, full of concern.

I shook my head without speaking, just forcefully poured the sharp-smelling lemon cleaner into the murky water.

"Don't take it personally." Mark crouched down, helping steady the swaying bucket, his voice dropping even lower. "Jimmy's been especially vicious lately. You should stay clear of him for the next few days."

"Why?" I couldn't help asking, slowing down my pouring.

Mark glanced around warily, the stairwell's dead silence amplifying the tension in his voice. After confirming it was just the two of us, he leaned closer, almost whispering. "Word is he got personally chewed out by the boss."

"The boss?" My heart skipped a beat for no reason, my fingers unconsciously gripping the cold bottle tighter. "What boss?"

"You're new so you might not know—Aisley Resort's real owner is some big shot who rarely shows his face."

"Who's the real boss?" My voice came out tight, a sense of foreboding creeping over me. I stared intently at Mark, like I was waiting for an answer I already knew.

Mark took a deep breath, as if saying this name required enormous courage. He looked directly into my eyes and clearly, deliberately spoke the name that was already burned into my soul:

"Dmitri Belov."

I took a deep breath, feeling the situation was incredibly absurd.

Mark let out a heavy sigh, leaning in. "On paper, he's the CEO of Belov Group, some billionaire on the Forbes list. But in this city's underbelly, he's got another name, another life."

He paused, his eyes flickering like he was searching for the right words.

"They call him the Siberian Wolf. The boss running the Russian mob's whole network.

From the entire West Coast to God-knows-where else, every shady deal, every turf war, every life-or-death call—it's all in his hands.

It's a dangerous world, one us regular folks can't even touch. "

"Boss, Siberian Wolf," I whispered, my mind flashing back to his figure at the gala—elegant, but radiating danger. Back then, he'd casually admitted to being tied to the mafia, but I had no idea it went this deep, that he was this terrifying.

He was way scarier than I'd ever imagined—a mob boss ruling an underground empire.

My breath came fast, ragged, like I'd just realized I was dancing with the devil himself.

Someone called for Mark to mix drinks, and he gave my shoulder a quick pat before heading off. The stairwell was just me now, alone with a bucket of foul-smelling mop water.

I pulled the small brass key and the slip of paper with an address in L.A.'s fancy suburbs from my pocket, staring at them for what felt like forever. Three nights ago, when Dmitri pressed them into my hand, I was fucking thrilled. Now, they felt like a ticket to some dangerous unknown.

Enough, Avery, I told myself. Everything before was just a spell, a fairy tale. The magic's gone, and Cinderella needs to crawl back to her attic and ashes.

I shouldn't go see him. My life's already too damn full—barely room to breathe. After my shift, I've got to haul ass three blocks to a job fair, praying for some measly night gig to keep my shaky world from collapsing.

I kept telling myself we're from different planets. A nobody like me, practically invisible, standing next to a mafia boss? No way in hell.

Right then, my phone buzzed in my pocket. My heart lurched, like something stung me. A bad feeling gripped me. With trembling hands, I pulled out the phone I'd found in Room 302.

The screen lit up with a new message.

Dmitri: come to me

Three words. No greeting, no bullshit, just the kind of confidence that screams power. Like he knew I'd see this, like he was just waiting for me to show up at his doorstep.

But I'm not going. The gap between us was a fucking canyon, too wide to cross. I was on this side, scraping by, too weak to even stand up to Jimmy's crap. He was on the other, ruling a dark empire, tossing lives around like they're nothing.

We only tangled because of some fluke, but we didn't belong together. I needed to end this, to kill the stupid fantasies of a hotel maid.

I shot to my feet, charging out of the dim stairwell, sprinting toward the bright lights of the hotel lobby.

"Lisa!" My voice came out sharp, warped from running, startling Lisa at the front desk as she checked invoices.

"Avery? What's wrong?" She gaped at my pale face.

No time to explain. I slapped the still-warm phone onto the polished marble counter, my hands shaking.

"I found this," I said, sucking in a breath. "Turn it into lost and found. Please."

The second the phone left my hands, a hollow emptiness swallowed me, like the world lost all its color.

I shuffled back to the stairwell, sliding down against the cold wall, burying my face in my knees.

Goodbye, Dmitri.

"Hey, Miss Gloom-and-Doom, you out here scrubbing the walls for free?" A bright, teasing voice cut through above me .

I swiped at my face, looking up.

Esther.

"N-Nothing," I mumbled, sniffing, trying to hide the mess I was.

"Oh, come on, Avery," Esther said, plopping down beside me and nudging my shoulder. "Your eyes are redder than a rabbit's. Don't lie to me. Let me guess—boy trouble?" She sighed. "I knew you were hiding something. Spill it. Let L.A.'s number-one love guru help you out."

"Forget it, Esther," I said, voice rough, turning away. "It's over."

"Over?" Esther's eyes went wide, dramatic as hell. "What, it's been like, what, a few days? That guy's a total jerk!"

I shook my head, pain slicing through me. "You don't get it, Esther. He's not someone I can be around."

"What's that supposed to mean? He thinks he's too good for you? If that's the case, he's a fucking asshole!" Anger flashed in her eyes.

"No, it's not like that." I shook my head, tears blurring my vision. "It's our worlds—they're too different. He's… way out of my league."

I thought back to three days ago, that unreal night. The kiss at the gala. The heels he slipped onto my feet himself.

"Esther, hold up." I wiped my eyes. "I just remembered—those shoes I borrowed from you, and some other stuff. I need to give them back."

"What stuff?" Esther asked, confused.

I stood, and she followed me to the lockers. I pulled out two pairs of shoes. One was the red heels I'd found and cleaned, the other the new ones Dmitri bought at the mall for my so-called "big sister."

Looking at them, my chest ached.

"Here." I handed her the bag, my voice shaky. "Thanks for letting me borrow the shoes. I cleaned them. The other pair—don't ask, but they're for you too."

Esther took the bag. "Two pairs?" She picked up Dmitri's gift, her fingers tracing the soft leather and perfect heels, her breath catching. "Avery, these aren't cheap. This craftsmanship, this leather? These cost thousands!"

My heart sank. Thousands? That's a fortune to me, but to him? Probably pocket change .

"If you like them, they're yours," I said, forcing calm.

"Avery," Esther set the shoes down, her face serious. "Tell me the truth. What's going on? Who's this guy?"

"He's rich," I sighed. "Filthy rich. Powerful. And I'm just a hotel maid."

"So what if he's rich and powerful?" Esther grabbed my hand, her eyes full of concern. "If he cares about you, none of that matters."

"But it does!" I practically shouted. "Esther, you don't get it. We're from different worlds. One pair of his shoes is worth months of my pay. His dinner could cover my rent for a year!"

"Listen to me," Esther said, her voice steady. "Yeah, there's a gap, but love can bridge that shit sometimes."

I shook my head. "You don't understand, Esther. This was a mistake from the start."

"No, Avery, YOU don't understand." Her tone softened but stayed firm. "You always sell yourself short. You're beautiful, kind, and smart. You deserve to be loved."

"Esther, we can't be together."

My heart throbbed, forcing me to face the brutal truth of how impossible this was.

I knew who I was—a fraud, hiding behind a fake name, burying my real self.

How could I keep lying to him, stringing him along with a fake identity?

And my life's already a mess—work, errands, responsibilities drowning me.

I need to focus on Mom, my only family, who needs all of me.

Esther looked at me, deep and serious. "Avery, one question. Answer it honestly."

"What?"

"Forget his status, forget the gap, forget all the practical crap—do you love him?"

The question stabbed me like a blade. I wanted to say no, to shut it down, but last night flooded back—his gentle kiss, the warmth in his eyes, the safety I'd never felt before.

My voice shook. "I don't know."

"You do know," Esther said, soft but sure. "You're just too scared to admit it. "

"I've made up my mind," I said stubbornly, dodging her question.

"Made up your mind?" Esther scoffed. "That's not a decision, it's running away. You're scared of rejection, scared of getting hurt, so you're taking the easy way out—doing nothing."

I bit my lip hard, fighting back tears. She was right. I'm a coward, always running.

Esther's voice softened, like she was trying to untangle my mess like we were kids again. "Avery, promise me you'll think about it. Don't rush this. Don't lie to your heart just because you're scared."

My already shaky resolve wavered.

Maybe Esther's right. Maybe I should hear him out. Maybe—

No. I can't think like that. I can't let myself get lost in hopeless dreams.

But his tender kiss, the look in his eyes…

I closed my eyes, my heart tearing in two.

Take the risk, or play it safe?

This question echoed in my mind.