Page 146 of Sinful Blaze

Sofi shushes my new panic with a finger to her lips. “Queen, remember?”

I suck in the deepest breath of the day. Then I nod.

I am a queen. I control my own life, no matter who tries to rule it.

Mischief fills her eyes. And before I can stop her, Sofi throws the office door open.

“Knock-knock, asshole!”

55

PASHA

I’m on my tenth attempt to read the same sentence in the Chekhov International Employee Handbook. No matter what I do, my mind keeps wandering back to Daphne’s blowup in the car.

Do you respect your employees?

I know what she was really asking. Do I walk my talk? Do I hold my people accountable? Am I the man I claim to be?

I wanted to say yes, just to have the higher ground. So I could proudly be better—far better—than her dickhead employers.

But it’s been bugging me ever since she brought it up.

That’s why I’m on page seventy-two of this handbook and silently cursing whoever decided we needed a fucking Bible instead of a few simple pages.

I’m still irritated that Daphne has no problem standing up to me, but can’t do the same to those idiots she calls her bosses. She doesn’t hesitate to tell me exactly where I can stick my overbearing habits—but them? The second they seem even mildly displeased, she bows under their pressure and slinks off to the corner.

I was so fucking pissed. Not at her. Never at her.

It’s them who got my wrath.

The way the Bloom brothers reacted when I outed Daphne’s pregnancy still flashes through my mind. She is right: she’s probably going to go back to find her desk packed and a pink slip resting on top of her things.

Not if I have anything to say about it, though.

I slam the handbook shut and shove it to the side. I’ll have the head of Human Resources review it tomorrow and make amendments wherever necessary.

Right now, I need to follow through on my promise to find Daphne a better job. Something that will keep her busy and give her the fulfillment she craves, but with the respect she’s been sorely deprived of.

Maybe add a little vengeance into the mix. Make those two misogynistic idiots drop to their knees and beg for her forgiveness. For her mercy.

I’m still scheming when the door to my office flies open and my sister barges in.

“Knock-knock, asshole!”

I glare at her. “Watch it. You’re my sister, but?—”

“Nope. Right now, I’m the angel of fucking vengeance.”

I’m about to ask her what I’ve done this time when I see Daphne’s tear-streaked face peek out from behind her.

Instantly, I’m on my feet, damn near knocking my chair over in the process. “Daphne? What’s wrong?” My heart slams inside my chest. “Is it the baby?”

“No, dumbass.” Sofi rolls her eyes. “It’s you.”

Daphne looks away. In an instant, I feel the gut punch of her avoidance as hard as if she’d planted her fist in my stomach.

I can handle her anger. I can handle her fire.

---