Sinful Blaze (Chekhov Bratva Book 1) -
Chapter 48
“Do me a favor, Daph… Warn me next time? Before you go and tell me what might be the hottest sex story ever?” Hazel shakes her head and fans herself. “It’s been a while for me, y’know.” Then she flashes a grin and straightens up. “But really, in all seriousness. I’m so happy for you.”
“Thanks.” I feel a squiggly, giggly warmth spread through my chest. “I’m happy, too.”
Pasha drove me to work again this morning. He was very obviously looking for Conrad, or any other signs of trouble, but the fact that his hand kept caressing my thigh had me purring the whole time. He could be looking for nuclear warheads for all I care.
He wants me. For me.
I’m his woman.
I’m on Cloud Nine. And I’m his woman.
Another little gesture neither of us spoke about but I definitely mentioned to Hazel: Pasha didn’t wear a tie this morning. He’s actually stopped wearing ties as often as he used to, but this morning he left the top two buttons or so undone and his shirt pulled open.
Just enough to see the hickey I left on his neck.
I can’t quite match Pasha’s levels of bloodthirsty, enough-to-kill-a-rhinoceros testosterone. But I’m definitely loving that any interested woman is going to see my mark on my man and know better than to try anything with him.
Unfortunately, my high doesn’t last as long as I would’ve liked. Hazel and I both hear the front doors slam open from where we’re sitting and look up in alarm.
What now?
This isn’t exactly Grand Central Station. Visitors outside of showcase events are typically few and far between. But ever since things with Pasha and Conrad heated up, it’s almost like we should just install a revolving door.
“You.”
Shit. I know that voice. I’ve been wincing at that rasping, pathetic babydoll voice since boarding school.
“Hi, Brittany.” I hold my smoothie close like a shield as I turn to face her.
She is a woman on a mission. A violent mission, if I had to guess. Her finger jabs in the air at me and if looks could kill, I’d be long dead. “I hope you’re fucking happy,” she hisses.
“I am, actually.” I rest a hand on my stomach and smile. My baby girl is dancing, further underlining the point that we are both very, very happy. “You don’t look so good, though.”
Brittany barks out a laugh. “Are you… are you serious, right now? Are you fucking serious?”
Hazel has far less patience than me. She rolls her eyes, folds her arms across her chest, and steps between us. Not enough to block me, but enough to be able to throw hands in case this woman flies off her hinges. “Just spit it out, already, Brit. We don’t have all day.”
“You… You don’t have all… Okay.” Brittany claps her hands together and I really am starting to think she’s lost it. “Well, your boyfriend made sure that Conrad won’t have another day in his career. Ever.”
“What are you talking about?”
But even as I say it, Pasha’s words roll through my head. He put his hands on you. There was violence in that sentence. Lots of it.
Brittany shoves past Hazel to stab her finger in my face. “Stay away from Conrad. You hear me? You lost him. You don’t get to keep him.”
That patience I felt a second ago…
It’s gone now.
Long gone.
I swat her hand out of the way. “First of all, bitch, I don’t want him. Honestly, I don’t like you, but I still think you could do way better than that asshole. And second of all—”
I see her slap coming, but I’m too slow to block it. I can only gawk, dumbstruck, as the rings on her fingers flash and twinkle and fly closer, and then—
BOOM. Someone snatches her wrist out of mid-air.
I turn, still mute and useless, to see two giant mountains of men intervening.
After what happened yesterday, they’ve been ordered to remain inside the premises within earshot instead of outside like they used to.
Turns out, that was a good idea.
Lev and Dominik pluck Brittany off the ground like she’s no heavier than a letterbox. She gasps, sputters, then tries to claw her way free, but they simply grab her wrists and hold them behind her.
“You can’t do this! You can’t fucking touch me! You can’t arrest me! I have rights!”
Something new, something fierce, wells up inside me. I wonder if this is what Pasha feels when he’s “working.”
“Oh, sweetie, no. These aren’t the police. It’d go much better for you if they were.”
She stills.
Emboldened, I take several steps forward. For once, I actually do want to get in her repulsive little Shih Tzu face. “As I was saying: second of all, I have my own life. You clearly can’t see that I am very much pregnant with another man’s baby, and that man is worlds better than Conrad. So why would I want the bottom of the barrel? That’s your realm.”
Hazel snorts. Lev and Dom press their lips together in an admirable show of stoicism, but I’m pretty sure one of them almost laughed.
Brittany is going apeshit. “You’re such a bitch! I won’t let you have him! I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you’ll never see him again!”
“Whatever, psycho.” I roll my eyes and give the nod for my guards to drag her out the door.
They do so.
Gladly.
Hazel whistles low once they’re gone. “Damn. Bitch is certifiable. What do you think she meant about Conrad’s career ending?”
“I don’t know, and I really don’t care. I’m just glad I don’t have to do that godawful showcase anymore.”
True to my word, I grab my phone to send Pasha a text to update him.
Brittany just stopped by. Legit psycho. Unhinged.
Dom and Lev took care of it
Btw, what did she mean by Conrad no longer having a career?
There’s no immediate response, so I tuck my phone away and give a little wave to Hazel as I walk back toward my office. With everything said and done, I might as well get back to some real work.
Before I reach the door, though, my phone buzzes.
PASHA: Unless he can paint with his left hand, he needs to replace a new hobby
DAPHNE: What happened?
PASHA: He stuck his hand somewhere it doesn’t belong. Accidents happen when people ignore all the warnings
PASHA: Which one is Brittany?
DAPHNE: Conrad’s fiancee. You were there when he proposed to her, remember?. You burned her painting.
PASHA: Ah. Right. Still the best $5 million I’ve ever invested
DAPHNE: Invested? Hardly. Literally burned through your money
PASHA: I got you, didn’t I?
Now, I’m blushing. There’s no one around to see it, but I don’t care.
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