Page 167 of Sinful Blaze

I should. I really, really should. With every day that passes here, with every snub and snide comment I have to endure from these two Tweedling idiots, I’m more and more inclined to throw the towel in.

I’m just not sure I want that. Yet.

One thing I am completely certain about: I don’t want to spend another second trapped in this hellhole.

“How about this, Todd?” I straighten up. “I am going to leave for the day. I will be back tomorrow morning at ten. If you find a replacement half as good as me before then, I’ll turn in my resignation.”

“You can’t just?—”

“I mean, you’re welcome to fire me. I’ll just file claims for wrongful termination and make sure my lawyer starts the lawsuit for sexual harassment, trafficking, assault… Am I forgetting anything else? Hope not. Anyway—your call.”

Stewart clears his throat. “Don’t bank on empty threats, young lady. Our lawyer won’t?—”

“Oh, no, you misunderstand me.” I give him my sweetest smile. “I said my lawyer. I don’t need you anymore, Daddy.”

I shove through my shocked parents, smacking off Ophelia’s hand before she can make another grab for me.

I wish I could have a stiff drink.

Lord knows I need one.

“I promise, Daph, the mocktails here are to die for.” Sofi loops her arm through mine with a cheeky grin. “And once you’ve popped, we’ll come back for the real stuff.”

“Are we sure I can’t have the real stuff now?” I whimper. “I had a day.”

“Yeah, a day at the spa.” Hazel nudges me forward to the main entrance of the nightclub. “Not that I’m complaining. Always happy to risk my job for a hot stone massage.”

Sofi nods to the bouncer at the door, who unhooks the velvet rope and ushers us through. “Don’t worry about your job. Everything’s gonna work out great.”

“Yeah? And how do you know?”

Hazel may not clock Sofi’s hesitation, but I do. And when I glance at her, I see the same knowing smirk on her face that Pasha gets when he’s up to something.

“Trust the process, Haze,” she quips. Looping her arm through Hazel’s as well, she escorts us into the pulsing nightclub and straight to a VIP booth.

I glance around, expecting to see bouncers or bartenders coming at us for being in the wrong spot. This booth is decked to the nines for the elitest of the elite. “Are you sure we can be in here? It’s not reserved or anything?”

Sofi laughs. “Relax. This booth is reserved for the owner of the club.” She eases us onto the wraparound leather couch. “And that would be my brother.”

“Pasha?”

She shakes her head. “Makari. He got it through a… well, I guess you could call it a liquidation sale.”

I have a feeling there’s way more to the story than she’s telling us.

I also have the feeling that it’s Bratva-related. So I’m just gonna leave it where it is. “About those mocktails…”

Ten minutes later, we’re sipping our drinks and complaining about our bosses. Sofi has extra fun with her griping, milking the drama until Hazel’s so aghast, we have to give in and inform her that Pasha is The Boss. This makes Hazel sigh with relief and Sofi laugh.

“Don’t get me wrong; he can still be a major pain,” she says between sips, “but I put up with him because he’s my big brother. And I love him.”

“Your whole family is pretty amazing.” I set my drink down on the table and pat my swollen belly. Baby Chekhov hiccups and nudges my ribs with her little feet. “I’m sad your mom couldn’t make it to the spa with us.”

“Yeah, that is… strange.” Sofi’s brows pinch together. “I know she’s got her own life and all, but there’s no way she’d pass up spending time with you. Especially with your due date coming up so soon.”

I shrug. “It’s fine. Sounds like she was having a great time with that guy?—”

“Well, well, well,” a familiar voice interrupts. Mak saunters over from the bar, a mischievous smile on his face and his eyes glued to Hazel. “If I’d known we’d have three goddesses showing up tonight…”

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