Sinful Addiction

Epilogue

ELENA VETROV

"Daddy."

The sound of little footsteps stormed down the stairs and crackled through the mansion. I couldn't help but exhale a little sigh recounting how many times I'd warned her not to run down the stairs especially since her little legs could only take her so far.

I was prepared to warn her again not to run but she'd already reached the last stair, swinging her arms as she jumped around. Black curly hair was piled on the top of her head in a messy bun with wispy strands falling out of the bun with each bounce she made.

She shuffled closer to the couch, peeking behind it for a slow moment and then blinked with those long dark lashes she'd inherited from me. "Daddy. You here?"

I could barely keep the smile off my face as I watched her peek again almost like he would appear in the span of the five seconds she'd checked.

With a dramatic sigh, she placed a hand on her forehead almost breathing in and out like she'd done so much work in locating her father. I was waiting for her to realize he wouldn't be home for another hour.

Apparently they did this little dance of theirs every single day.

As soon as she was awake from her nap, she would look for her father and after a span of two minutes, Ruslan would come through the door straight from work after battling the afternoon traffic rush, looking glorious as ever and pretend to be shocked when she jumped onto him.

Only today, she woke up a little earlier from her nap than usual.

Big, blue eyes narrowed in that cat-like shape, and turned towards me to meet my gaze, the same way she did whenever I would tell her that her father was running late.

Round, rosy cheeks lit with heat as she ran back up the stairs, the color in her sneakers swirling into different shades of blue, pink and red as she stormed the house with her quiet persona but loud energy.

When she reached where I was standing, she tilted her head in that inquisitive way of hers whenever she had questions which needed to be answered.

I'd suspected she'd picked up the little tick from Sin who always had a habit of tilting his head whenever she asked him a question like he was trying to figure out an answer. She always had a question for him. Always.

She was a talkative little thing, always chatting with others. As soon as he came home, she would narrate her whole day to him, and everything she did and then proceed to tell him about things she wanted to do.

"Mommy?" She murmured in her soft voice, peering at me with those curious blue eyes. Eyes that belonged to her father's.

Even with her brave persona, I could see her chubby fingers playing with the fabric of her pink dress in a nervous way. "When's daddy coming?"

"Soon, tesoro. He promised he'll be back for dinner tonight." I bent down until I was on her eye level, my fingers reaching out to adjust her messy bun—or what was left of it.

She was always wild, unpredictable and messy. Nessa could be dressed properly and perfect in the morning but at night, everything would be twisted inside out. Nothing with her was ever the same as you would leave it.