Sinful Blaze (Chekhov Bratva Book 1)

“Well, well, Mr. Chekhov! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Cora’s eyes scan my body as she struts into the foyer of the Brennan estate. The exaggerated sway in her hips is pushing the limit; the dip of her neckline paired with what’s obviously a push-up bra makes her deep cleavage beyond obscene.

What’s even more obscene is how my mind immediately leaps to Daphne wearing the exact same thing. The scarlet wrap dress hugging her thighs, her breasts threatening to spill out of the top of it…

But only for me. It’d be a cold day in hell before I let another man lay eyes on her like that.

“We need to talk about your husband.” I’m determined to keep this strictly business. Sofi stands behind me, no doubt doing her best to conceal her own disgust at Cora’s antics.

“My husband is out for the day.” Cora purrs each word and saunters forward until we’re barely a breath apart. She smooths her hands over my chest and smiles up at me. “All day.”

I can feel Sofi step forward. Her irritation practically ripples in the air.

But I make the move before she can. “I’m engaged,” I inform the senator’s wife bluntly as I remove her hands from my chest. “And we’re expecting.”

Cora’s mask promptly crumbles. She takes a step back, smooths her dress down, and clears her throat.

“Well! Congratulations are in order.” She flicks her wrist as a signal for us to follow her into her home. I’m not surprised that her room of choice includes a wet bar, which she beelines for. “A toast to the happy father. Are you registered?”

“You know what would be a great gift? A thorough explanation as to what the hell’s going on with your husband.”

Cora takes her time mixing a cocktail, her back turned to us. I glance over at Sofiya, who is glaring at the woman like one word from me will set her fury loose.

“I don’t actually know what’s going on with Scott.” Cora sighs and stirs her drink before taking a sip and turning back to us. “He’s certainly been twitchy lately. Hiding his phone from view, taking calls in the middle of the night, claiming he has all these different lunch meetings and late nights at the office.” She takes another sip. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he started up a new affair.”

I frown. Cora’s no fool—she’s known about her husband’s extramarital activities for years. She’s also guilty of having plenty of her own, just to “keep the ledger balanced,” as she once described it to me.

That’s the one thing the two of us have in common: blackmailing the senator with his sins.

Something in her tone snags my attention, though. “But you know better, don’t you? This isn’t an affair. This is different.”

She rolls her eyes but her jaw tightens. “When it comes to sex, Scott’s sloppy. Both in the act, and in trying to cover up the evidence. It would be embarrassing if it wasn’t so damn entertaining.”

She sashays over to a lounger and sprawls herself across it. If she thinks she’s being subtle about the way she occasionally eyes me, she’s mistaken. But since she is being surprisingly helpful in the face of her husband’s flakiness, I’m not going to call her out.

Yet.

“This time, though? He’s being too careful. Too clean. No panties under the couch, no costume jewelry in the bathroom. And it wasn’t perfume I smelled on him the other night.”

I know what she’s doing, but I bite anyway. “What did you smell?”

She stares at me over the rim of her martini glass and nearly downs half its contents in one gulp. With a sigh and a smack of her lips, she answers, “Scotch, bourbon, and expensive cologne.”

I bite back a laugh. “You don’t think…?”

“I wouldn’t fucking care if he did, but no, I don’t think he’s taken up residency in the closet just yet.” Cora lifts her glass as if toasting an idea. “If you ask me, he’s making friends in shady places and your little deal is in trouble.”

“So you know about that.”

“Please. Don’t insult me. Of course I know all about that. Sadly—for you, I mean—Scott hasn’t come to me for advice and quite frankly, I’m not in the mood to give any.”

Don’t lose your fucking temper, I counsel myself. Keep it cool… Keep it calm…

I force a smile, though I’m irked to no end that this woman can be so fucking flippant about the single most important deal I may ever broker. “What are you in the mood to do?”

Cora runs her tongue over her bottom lip. “Since you’re off the menu? I’m feeling like having a little fun with my wayward husband. He might crack under the pressure and slip up; it could be an affair and he’s just actually discreet this time. Or—and this is a big ‘or’—he might reveal some valuable information that you might find useful.”

I sigh. It’s the best I’m going to get. “You’ll call me?”

“Now, now. What do I get in return?” She slides off her seat and sidles over to me, that sway back in her hips times ten. It’s doing nothing for me, other than setting both Sof and me on edge. “Scott gives me diamonds and furs and the occasional car whenever he figures out I’m on his trail. What will you give me in exchange for my help?”

“My respect and gratitude.” I sidestep her advance and nod at Sofi—it’s time for us to leave. Sober Cora is bad enough to deal with; we don’t need to tango with the drunk version. “And if you ever run for office yourself, I could squeeze in a sizable contribution.”

Cora’s eyes light up and I regret the unintentional innuendo as she eyes my crotch with renewed hunger. “I’ll hold you to that, Pasha. I’ll hold you tight.”

Sofi’s practically dragging me out the door. I don’t blame her—we can’t leave fast enough, and for once, I’m not too disappointed that we didn’t get as much information as we wanted from the visit.

“You weren’t kidding about bringing a spray bottle,” my sister mutters under her breath as we make our way out through the main foyer. “She’s like a fucking cat in heat.”

“I’ll never understand why people stay in marriages they have no intention of honoring.”

“Politics.” She rolls her eyes, even though we both know she’s right. “It’s probably easier to be the pitied wife of a wayward sleazeball who holds influence in the White House and Pentagon than the disgraced ex-wife of said sleazeball. Plus, the alimony can’t be as good.”

“Oh? How do you figure?”

“Well, if she outed him as a cheating scumbag, he’ll lose a shit ton of votes. No votes means no office. No office, no cushy paycheck. No cushy paycheck⁠—”

“No cushy alimony.” I unlock the car and wait for Sofi to slide in before I do. Not for any security reasons on our end; I’m more concerned about her changing her mind and going back in to teach Mrs. Brennan a thing or two about boundaries.

Even now, as we talk through stats, I can still feel Sofi’s rage simmering under the surface.

“I’ll have my men keep digging,” she says as I fire up the engine. “Tailing him hasn’t brought much insight, other than confirming what Cora said about the late night meetings.”

“At his office?”

Sofi shakes her head. “Not usually. He hasn’t departed from his usual haunts, the same old clubs and bars and the like—just changed up his schedule a bit. And if anyone notable is meeting him, they arrive before he does and leave long after him.” She shrugs and pulls down the visor to check her lipstick. “It’s the only explanation we have for not seeing who exactly he’s meeting with.”

It’s all I can do not to peel the car out of Brennan’s driveway and leave a few burned tracks. I’d rather not risk my good tires or what’s left of our tenuous relationship.

“We need to figure out a backup plan. Just in case.”

“In case the deal falls through?”

I feel my back teeth grind just thinking about that possibility. “If it does, I’m going full scorched earth on the mudak. And Cora, too. Hell, I’ll torch the whole damn estate if I have to. No one fucks over a Chekhov and lives to laugh about it.”

“If I were you, I’d be more concerned about what you just pulled over Cora.” At my sidelong glare, Sofi shrugs again and gestures back toward the manor we’ve left far behind. “What? You think she’s just going to take your word for it? She’s going to verify you’re engaged, and once she finds out you’re not… well, better fire up that restraining order.”

“Daphne’s already wearing the necklace I gave her. It shouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yes, if anything screams ‘Property of Pasha,’ it’s the diamond necklace equivalent of a dog collar.”

Again, I shoot my sister a glare. “You know that’s not how I think of her.”

Sofi is completely unfazed. “What I know is that it’s not an engagement ring. And I also know it’s not what Mama had in mind when she said⁠—”

“I know what she meant. I’m considering my options.”

“Sounds like you made up your mind back in that spider’s web.” She arches a brow at me. “Or was that just cowardly bullshit?”

“Careful, sister.”

“‘Careful’ is exactly what I want you to be with Daphne. Same with Mak and Mama. You already carelessly sowed your seed and got pretty fucking lucky that it’s her and not some airheaded bimbo without enough good sense to fill her bra cups. But you can’t look me in the eyes and tell me that your overprotective obsession is enough to lock things down with her. Women need more than just shelter and resources—they need commitment. Children need commitment.”

I’m not going to argue with her on this. I don’t even know where I’d start, frankly. “Fucking hell,” I say with a suddenly exhausted sigh.

Sofi’s mouth twitches in a wry grin. “Which means…?”

“You know damn well what it means.”

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it.”

I grit my teeth. “It means I will. It means you’re right. Mama’s right. Fuck, even Mak is right. I’ll give Daphne my ring and my name, and our daughter will have everything she needs.”

“Music to my ears,” she says with a giddy grin. “But is that all you’ll give her?”

The way Sofi asks it, all gentle and shit, sets me on an uncomfortable edge. I know what she’s asking. What she’s really asking.

“It’s all I can give. It’s all I’m able to.”

She sighs, but she lets it go. Thank God.

I can make Daphne my wife and our daughter my legitimate heir. They deserve my protection and all the benefits that come with bearing my name.

But love? Affection? I wouldn’t know those things if they stabbed me in the throat.

I can’t give her what I’m pretty sure I don’t have.