Page 24 of Sin in My Inbox (Sexting Spark #1)

Dmitri

Since learning the truth, I'd experienced something close to euphoria. The woman who'd created ripples in my life, the little liar using a fake name, the ordinary girl working diligently at the hotel. All the pieces finally formed a complete picture, and it was more captivating than I'd imagined.

Anger? A little. Being deceived never felt good, especially for someone like me who was used to controlling everything. But mostly, I felt exhilarated.

The black Bentley sat low-key and elegant in the morning light.

I sat in the driver's seat, fingers tapping the steering wheel, waiting.

This was my fifth day following her. Five days of learning every detail of her life.

When she woke in my bed, when she went to the hospital through my arranged driver, then took the bus alone to the hotel.

Her life was so routine, so predictable.

It was 8 AM now. Her daily hospital visit to see her mother. Right on cue, at 8:05, she appeared.

This sense of control fascinated me, like a chess player surveying the board. But simultaneously, observing her every expression, every little habitual gesture, had created an almost pathological dependence in me.

When she'd asked the driver to take her here instead of the office, she'd told me a little lie. Said she needed to visit a sick friend at the hospital regularly.

When she said it, her eyes started wandering unnaturally—first looking out the window, then quickly away, anywhere but meeting my eyes. Even cuter, her ears started turning red, from the lobes all the way to the tips.

I nearly laughed out loud. My little liar couldn't lie for shit—every microexpression gave her away. That desperate attempt to stay cool while looking guilty as hell? So damn cute I wanted to pull her into my arms and spoil her rotten right then and there.

Avery had vanished through the hospital entrance, hustling as always between her mom and her job. Her love for her mother was so pure, no ulterior motives, no calculations. That kind of innocence was rare in my world, and every time I saw it, it hit me with a strange pang in my chest.

"Nick, get to St. Mary's Hospital," I said. "Find Helena Carter, Avery's mom. I want her in the best VIP room, with the top medical team. Bill everything to my personal account."

"Yes, sir. Should I tell her where the money's coming from?"

"No." I pictured Avery's unease, her stubborn pride kicking in if she knew. "Come up with a perfect cover. Say it's some anonymous hospital charity program. Keep it clean—don't let her suspect a thing."

"And make sure she gets the best care. If she needs to be transferred or have some expensive surgery, do it.

I don't want to hear a word about costs.

" I never gave a damn about anyone's suffering—I was the boss who made the rules, not some bleeding-heart priest. My world didn't have room for pity, only power.

But Avery? She was the exception. If money could wipe out her pain, I'd throw it at her without a second thought.

Nick nodded and got to work.

Soon, Avery came out of the hospital. I followed her, keeping a safe distance.

I watched her tap her foot impatiently at the bus stop, saw her slump against the window and catch a quick nap as the bus rolled along, sunlight catching her soft hair and giving it a fuzzy golden glow.

My car trailed that clunky bus, my eyes locked on her little head resting against the glass.

I couldn't help the sweet irritation bubbling up. How the hell did every damn detail about this woman drive me wild?

My phone buzzed, snapping me out of it. The screen showed a call from Stone, the hotel manager.

"Mr. Belov, as you instructed, Avery's been made permanent and moved to the front desk. Her salary's been adjusted to your specifications."

"Good. Is the surveillance system upgrade done?"

"Yes, sir. The front desk area now has four HD cameras, catching every detail. Footage streams live to your designated device."

"Perfect. Listen, Stone, no one can know this has anything to do with me. If anyone asks why Avery got promoted, say it's because she's damn good at her job."

"Understood, sir."

"And," my voice turned colder, "if I find out anyone disrespects her, you know what happens."

I hung up and pulled up the surveillance feed on my laptop. The screen showed the front desk at Aisley Resort, clear as day. The front desk gig was easier, sure, but more importantly, I could see every single person who got close to her.

Control. That was the core of my life. Business empire, personal feelings—didn't matter. I needed absolute control.

At nine sharp, Avery showed up in the hotel lobby. She'd slipped into a navy suit skirt, looking polished and elegant. I adjusted the camera angle, zeroing in on her every move. I listened as she chatted with coworkers, then started my own work.

"Chatting during work hours? Seems like you're both very idle!" Jimmy's voice crackled through the feed.

I watched Avery try to keep her cool, holding back her anger, responding to that sorry son of a bitch with the most polite tone she could muster. Her restraint made my chest ache and my blood boil. Ache because she had to put up with that shit, boil because she had to bow to a lowlife like him.

My hands clenched into fists, knuckles white.

Jimmy's smug, disgusting face made me run through a dozen ways to make him disappear.

I wanted to storm over there, tell that clueless bastard who he was messing with.

I wanted him to know the woman he'd just humiliated was Dmitri Belov's woman.

I wanted to see him on his knees, groveling, begging Avery for forgiveness.

But I couldn't. Not yet. Avery didn't know I'd figured out who she was, and I wasn't about to put pressure on her too soon.

Five minutes later, Jimmy finally fucked off. I saw Avery turn toward the door and make a face—so cute, so full of life, it made me crack a smile.

Feeling brightened by her presence, I returned to my top-floor office, tackled a mountain of paperwork, and then attended another long, tedious board meeting.

In the room, everyone was arguing fiercely over insignificant data. I leaned back in my chair, bored, my only joy the laptop with the surveillance footage before me.

Then an idea hit me. I wanted to see her blush, see her heart race because of me.

I grabbed my phone and typed out a message.

Me: everyone in the meeting room is discussing data but all I can think about is u. every time I close my eyes I remember how u gasped beneath me

Sent.

I locked onto the surveillance feed, waiting. A few seconds later, she pulled out her phone—and her face went red. That mix of shyness and excitement sent heat through my veins.

She quickly shut off her screen, glancing around like she was scared someone might catch her secret. Her nerves, her panic—it gave me a conqueror's thrill. Yeah, she was mine. Even from a thousand miles away, I could control her mood, make her heart skip.

But it wasn't enough. I needed more .

I sent another message.

Me: why aren't u replying? how can u be so cold? last night u were calling my name so passionately, wrapping around me, and wouldn't let me go. tell me baby, are u wet for me?

This time, I waited longer. I saw her slip into the bathroom, probably to dodge her coworkers' eyes. Picturing her in that tiny space, reading my words, fighting to keep it together—it gave me a damn satisfaction.

But as the minutes ticked by, that satisfaction turned into a restless craving. Watching her on a screen wasn't cutting it anymore. I needed to see her in person, feel her presence, know she was trembling because of me.

I stood up, straightened my suit, and ended the meeting with a firm attitude.

It was time to go there in person.

"Get the car ready," I told the driver.

Twenty minutes later, I strolled into the hotel lobby. Crystal chandeliers cast light across the marble floor, everything sleek and serene. I slowed my steps, savoring the anticipation of seeing her.

"Mr. Belov! Welcome!"

I nodded, catching Avery duck behind a corner from the corner of my eye.

I could feel her nerves, her unease.

Little liar, consider this my little payback.

"I'll be here for the afternoon," I told Jimmy.

"Of course, sir, we'll get everything set up."

I didn't spare Avery another glance, heading straight for the elevator. But I knew she was watching me, just like I'd been watching her. This cat-and-mouse game between us? It made things so much more fun.

Back in my private suite, Room 302, I fired up the surveillance again. The angle was perfect now—I could see every shift in Avery's expression. She looked rattled, brows slightly furrowed, patting her chest like she was trying to calm herself down.

Then a young guy approached the front desk.

Brown hair, average build, nothing special.

I should've ignored him like he was air.

But my eyes locked on him—because of the way he looked at Avery.

That clumsy attempt to play it cool, only to betray the obvious hunger in his eyes, the kind of raw, male desire that set my nerves on edge.

I watched, pissed, as he came up with some dumb excuse to talk to her, his shifty eyes stealing glances at her face. Worst of all? When they talked, Avery actually gave him a friendly smile.

Jealousy—something I thought I'd never feel—slithered through my chest like a damn snake. My hands balled into fists, knuckles white.

I'd been raised to control my emotions, to analyze every situation with cold logic. But watching this nobody eye Avery like that? My rationality was crumbling. I wanted to storm down there, claim her in front of everyone.

"Avery, you free? Wanna grab dinner tonight?" His voice came through the feed, nervous but hopeful.

Time stopped. I stared at the screen, waiting for her answer.