Sinful Blaze (Chekhov Bratva Book 1)
Chapter 14

I have to remind myself that killing a senator is a bad idea.

Brennan is mostly oblivious about my internal struggle. He hems and haws as he fumbles with the drawers of his desk in an attempt to avoid eye contact.

You’re not allowed to kill the senator…

No matter how good it would feel.

“Explain to me again what’s preventing you from signing the contract,” I drawl.

He adjusts his suit jacket and clears his throat. “It’s not just me; it’s the whole Department of Justice I have to worry about. Budget constraints. Verification measures. People are going to want to know where their tax dollars are going and I have to be able to provide answers.”

I drum a few fingers on the arm of the chair so I don’t ball them into a fist and drive that fist into Brennan’s face.

No matter how fucking good it would feel.

“It’s interesting to me how all these concerns are only just now coming up.” I keep my voice level. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you’re stalling.”

His face begins to redden at the implication. But is he able to tell me I’m wrong?

Not a fucking chance.

“Think what you want, Chekhov, but the answer is still the same. We need time.”

“Time for what?”

Brennan sniffs and rummages through his top desk drawer some more, which is really starting to piss me off. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know, heh. And what you’re proposing greatly impacts the national infrastructure⁠—”

“What does Cora think?”

As expected, the mention of his wife stops him in his tracks. Figures. I’d bet good money he hasn’t even given her filled her in on the details of my offer. She’s a ball buster, but she’s not an idiot. Cora Brennan knows a good deal when she sees it and had she been shown this one, I wouldn’t have to sit here and tango with her pathetically flustered husband.

I narrow my gaze at him. “You haven’t shown her. I bet you haven’t even spoken to her about it at all, have you?”

He sniffs again and spreads his hands out. “Look at this. This is my office. My name on the goddamn door, not hers. I don’t have to show her a damn word if I don’t want to.”

“Oh, I understand that.” I lean forward, my smile anything but warm. “Which begs the question: why don’t you want to?”

Brennan has no response to that.

“You and I both know this is the deal of the century. For you, for your career—hell, for our troops overseas. I will get you state-of-the-art weapons at a fraction of the cost compared to what your department is currently paying. You want to talk about taxpayers’ money? Try telling them you’d rather waste it on cheap, shoddy artillery that jams up just when their boys need it most.”

Truth be told, money is the least of my concerns here. I’m in this for coverage. Plausible deniability for my other enterprises. That’s where the real riches lie: in the shadows.

And there, the Chekhov Bratva has billions to gain.

If only this asshole would stop pussy-footing around and sign on the dotted fucking line.

I suck in a deep breath and consider my next words carefully. As much as I’d love to treat him the same way I treat every other bastard who goes back on his word, I can’t. Not if I want to stay out of prison and keep things running smoothly for the Bratva.

For my family.

“This is your office, yes. And you and I go a long way back, brokering many other deals right here.” I tap his desk with a finger. “In. This. Office.”

Senator Brennan eyes me warily. “So you understand⁠—”

“So I think you need to understand.” I rise to my feet. “You promised me this deal. You gave me your word as a senator of this office. I expect you to fulfill your word—or we’re going to have some serious problems.”

“You can’t threaten me!”

“I’m not.” I straighten, adjust my suit jacket, and give him one last, hard stare. “I’m promising you. And believe me when I say that unlike you, I know how to keep my promises.”

I’m in a foul mood after leaving the senator to cower in his office. I need visceral reminders that someone in this world knows how to pull through, so I text my sister and arrange to meet up with her at one of our private hangars.

Sofi let me know this morning that a new delivery of specialized ammunition was due to arrive after a long delay. She’d insisted on overseeing the inbound processing herself to avoid further fuckups.

As I park my car in the hangar, I can see her barking orders to every man who isn’t already scrambling to swiftly obey her. She doesn’t stop her stride even when she hears me slam the driver’s door shut.

“Get Vlaski on the phone and tell him it’s today or never,” she orders one of our lower vors. “If he pulls any shit, we’re canceling the order. Make sure he knows it.”

Watching my baby sister keep everyone in line is already soothing my temper. She’s a mirror image of our mother with her long, dark hair and slim build, but she has the same fire and tenacity in her soul that I’d need from any man as my second.

Which she reminded me of the one and only time I suggested she replace a man, get married, and have a few kids of her own.

My ears are still ringing from how loud she screamed in my face that day.

I cock a brow at the crates being loaded into one of our covertly disguised trucks. “I do like making money. Can’t do that if you pull the order.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like being nagged by some mudak who can’t wait one more goddamn minute for his fucking guns.” Sofi braces her hands on her hips as she keeps a sharp eye on the whole process. “Did you know he actually propositioned me? Me! ‘As compensation for the delay.’”

I scoff. “What did you tell him?”

“He can go kindly fuck his own ass with his precious guns. Loaded and with the safety off, preferably.”

That makes me smirk. I should kick Vlaski’s ass for even suggesting he’s good enough to touch my sister, but Sofi would take it as an insult. She’s plenty capable of handling her own shit—especially when it comes to men overstepping their bounds.

“I should tell the senator that,” I muse.

Sofi shifts her sharp gaze to me and softens. “Ah. I wondered what crawled up your ass and died. Meeting didn’t go so well?”

“It went as expected, but not as I wanted. Brennan’s bitching out on us.”

“The deal’s not much different from before.”

“Exactly. Which is what pisses me off.”

She takes a moment to consider our options. “Well, if it helps, I do have some potential good news that might light a small fire under his ass.”

“Shoot.”

“Remember that blood test I had my sources slip in during the beginning of the school year?” Sofi pulls her phone out and flicks through the photos until she replaces what she wants to show me. “I was right. It’s Brennan’s kid.”

My nose curls with disgust. It’s bad enough the man sleeps around behind his wife’s back with escorts and interns. But to have a child by one of them?

“Does he know?”

“If he does, he sure as hell doesn’t care. There’s been no contact between them since his last appointment with her.”

I resist rolling my eyes. People like Brennan are the real scum of society. No sense of honor, loyalty, or dignity for themselves or the people they swore to love and protect.

“If he’s being that difficult,” Sofi continues, “it might be worth giving him a little ‘congratulations’ nudge. He knows as well as we do how much that’ll make his wife go nuclear.”

“It would. But I don’t know if we should go that nuclear, yet.” I grimace as I weigh my options. I hate treating people like him with such care. He sure as shit doesn’t deserve it. But he’s a government official and the last thing any of us need is for him to suddenly grow a backbone and turn the tables on us. “Keep eyes on the kid, just in case. We’ll hold this in our back pocket for an emergency.”

“Done. Speaking of kids…” A grin suddenly spreads across her face and my grimace deepens. “… how’s Daphne?”

“She hasn’t returned any of my flowers, or trashed them, so that’s something.”

“Have you tried actually talking to her? You know, in person?” She side-eyes me. “Like a normal human being?”

I roll my eyes. “Acting like a ‘normal’ human being is what got us in this mess to begin with.” I open my mouth to say something more, but my phone vibrates in my pocket and saves me from having the obligatory heart-to-heart I’d rather avoid.

“Chekhov.”

“It’s done. She’s moved in as much as can be and will be putting up the rest after work.”

“Perfect. Make sure the codes to her old building are changed before she gets there. Let me know if there’s any trouble.” I hang up on Daphne’s super and try to avoid the scrutinizing gaze of my now very interested sister.

“Care to share with the class?” she purrs.

Not really. “I took your advice. I bought Daphne’s building⁠—”

“When did I say that?!”

“When you said to bring her to me. To act like a pakhan and make shit happen.”

Sofi stares at me like I’ve just grown three new heads, then bursts into laughter. “Good luck with that, stalker. She is gonna love it when she replaces out.”

“Maybe she won’t replace out,” I mutter more to myself.

“Right. Maybe she’s blind and deaf and has no sense of smell. There’s literally no way she’ll ever figure out you’re behind her relocating to… Wait, where exactly did you move her?”

“A nearby penthouse.”

That brow pops back up to her hairline. “Your penthouse?”

What is it with the women in my life challenging every little thing I do? Fucking irritating. “It’s… nearby.”

“Uh-huh. Precisely how ‘nearby’?”

“Daphne needs to understand what it means to co-parent. No more leaving me out of shit like ultrasounds. Or sneaking around like I’m some horrible person.”

“You mean, like a criminal overlord?”

“Shut up.”

Sofi nudges me and offers a small smile. “Hey, I get it. All I’m saying is, there’s a fine line between ‘pursuing’ and ‘corralling.’ And any woman who sticks it out through your crazy ass? Definitely worth meeting.” That smile spreads back into her mischievous grin. “I can’t wait!”

Someone clumsily drops a crate of guns off the back of a truck, breaking up our impromptu family meeting and snapping Sofi’s focus back into her duties. She fires off a string of Russian curse words and marches toward the mess, leaving me to ponder Phase Two of “corralling” the mother of my child.

Daphne and Sofi can call it whatever they want. We’re in this together, and I’ll be damned if I let anything stand between me and my family.