Page 18 of Sin in My Inbox (Sexting Spark #1)

She didn't finish, just made a quick, subtle gesture across her throat.

She didn't need to finish. I understood.

My face must have gone completely pale, or Nina's eyes wouldn't have shown such deep regret.

I thought of all the lies I'd woven, now tightening around me like a net. That fake identity, that flimsy facade—once he tore it away...

A thought struck me with bone-chilling cold: Would I be the next body on that floor?

"I'd like to get some air on the terrace." I needed to escape, needed time to think.

"Of course, miss." Nina immediately stood, seeming relieved not to continue this topic. "I'll take you there."

Just then, Dmitri's voice rang out.

"Ella. "

I looked toward the sound. Dmitri had opened the study door and stepped out, his figure blocking the light spilling from within. He'd changed into a clean black shirt, as if the bloody slaughter had been just an illusion.

But I knew it wasn't. That metallic smell still lingered in my nostrils.

He slowly descended the stairs, methodically wiping his long fingers with a pristine white handkerchief.

Watching him approach step by step, my feelings were impossibly complex. Just minutes ago, I'd been eagerly anticipating our reunion. I never imagined this long-awaited meeting would happen under such suffocating circumstances.

"You look pale." Dmitri finally stopped before me, leaning down slightly, the back of his fingers brushing my cheek with extreme gentleness. His tender touch made me shudder—these hands touching me so gently had just casually taken two lives.

Don't touch me. I screamed silently in my head. Don't touch me with those hands.

But in the end, I just shook my head mechanically. "No, I'm fine."

"Why didn't you answer my messages?" His fingers slowly slid to my chin, tilting it up slightly, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Three days. I thought you wouldn't come back."

"I lost my phone." The lie came automatically. "So I had to come in person."

"Is that so?" He pressed closer, his warm breath almost on my cheek. I instinctively wanted to retreat, but his hand had already gripped my wrist tightly.

"Come with me."

I numbly followed him upstairs, the earlier scene replaying endlessly in my mind. That battered man, the desperate pleas, the blood seeping into the expensive carpet.

Dmitri led me into a bedroom—simple, unadorned, with no decorations. His familiar cologne hung in the air, mixed with sandalwood and leather. This scent used to make me feel safe and intoxicated, but now it just made me want to flee .

He closed the door and turned to face me. Moonlight filtered through the curtain gaps, casting shifting shadows across his face. In this moment, he looked both familiar and strange.

"Come here." He opened his arms, waiting for an embrace.

My body trembled as I moved toward him stiffly, step by step. He pulled me into his arms, holding me tighter than usual, as if confirming I was really there. I could feel his chest rising and falling, could smell his familiar cologne.

"You're afraid of me." It wasn't a question, but a statement.

I stayed silent. I couldn't deny it.

His fingers threaded through my hair, the movement maintaining that intoxicating gentleness. "I'm sorry you had to see that." His voice carried a vulnerability I'd never heard before. "This doesn't happen often."

His hands began to wander, those long fingers expertly igniting every sensitive spot on my body. But I couldn't stop shaking. The touches that once set me on fire now brought only endless fear.

"No," I whimpered.

Dmitri immediately stopped, slowly withdrawing his hands. Then his palms gently cupped my face, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Ella, don't be afraid of me." He locked onto my eyes, voice low. Then he lowered his head and kissed me.

It was an unexpectedly gentle kiss, almost reverent. His lips pressed carefully against mine, light as if touching something fragile and precious that he'd lost and found again.

My mind went blank. All the resistance, fear, chaotic thoughts—everything stopped in this overly tender kiss.

Countless questions flooded my mind. Dmitri, what kind of person are you really? How can a violent killer who spills blood without blinking have such a tender side? This kiss was so gentle it almost broke my heart.

"Sir." Nina's calm voice penetrated the door. "Thomas is here."

Dmitri's brow furrowed instantly, not hiding his displeasure at being interrupted. But he finally released his arms from around me .

"Some matters need handling." He quickly straightened his collar, his voice returning to its usual calm. "Rest for now."

"Dmitri." Just as he turned to leave, I called out instinctively.

He immediately stopped and turned back. In that moment, something lit up in his eyes like ignited sparks, full of searching and anticipation.

But I opened my mouth, and all the words hovering on my tongue retreated silently like the tide when our eyes met, leaving only empty silence. I lowered my gaze, unable to say anything.

He paused, then came back to press a kiss to my forehead. "Don't overthink. Nina will take care of you."

Then he left, leaving me alone in this room filled with his scent.

I stood frozen, my mind completely blank—or rather, I forced it blank. I commanded myself not to think, not to piece together any images, trying to keep all those terrifying nightmares tangled deep in memory outside.

Soon after, Nina knocked and entered with a glass of warm milk.

"Mr. Dmitri said you had a shock today and asked me to prepare this for you." She placed the milk on the nightstand. "It has some calming meds to help you relax."

"Thank you." I took the milk, the warmth providing slight comfort.

After the door closed, I sat alone on the bed, staring at that glass of milk. Nina's words echoed in my mind, along with everything I'd witnessed tonight.

I knew I should run, should get away from this dangerous man and his world.

But a deep helplessness drowned me like seawater.

How could I forget my feelings for him? All the tenderness and sweetness he'd given me—every embrace, every kiss was enough to shatter my rationality.

Even just his small comfort before leaving was torturing my resolve to escape.

More pathetically, there was a devil whispering in my heart, making excuses for him—he was the king of the dark world, killing and death were just the most common decorations on his crown. That voice tempted me, telling me all of this was perfectly normal .

The milk gave off a pleasant aroma with hints of vanilla. I drank slowly, feeling my tense nerves actually relaxing somewhat. Drowsiness hit faster and harder than usual.

I lay on the bed, my eyelids growing heavier. Hazily, I heard the door being gently pushed open.

"Is she asleep?" Dmitri's voice.

"Yes, sir," Nina answered. "The meds have kicked in."

Meds? What meds?

I tried to open my eyes, tried to ask what was happening, but fell into endless darkness.