Page 181 of Sinful Blaze

PASHA

This has not gone how I expected.

Instead of the royal bitchslapping from a disgraced socialite who has every reason to despise me, Melanie Hamish simply opened the door and welcomed me in. Offered me coffee. Introduced me to her husband, who keeps eyeing me warily but doesn’t say or do anything about it.

“Oh, yeah. I know who you are.” She sips her coffee. “You exposed me more than I exposed myself on camera.”

Jameson coughs into his cup.

I glance around the room. Their home is tidy, but warm. Lived-in. From the research I reviewed before coming here, Melanie and Jameson have only been married for a couple of years. It was a courthouse wedding. No grand reception or series of lavish engagement parties. They seem like the kind of people who don’t care about those kinds of things.

If I hadn’t seen her birth certificate myself, I’d never guess she came from Stewart and Ophelia Hamish.

I draw in a slow breath. “I believe I owe you an apology.”

Melanie shakes her head. “Don’t. Really. You did me a favor, believe me. If anything, I owe you a gift card or, like, a fruit basket or something.” When she sees me frown, she shrugs a shoulder. “My parents are the definition of toxic. I didn’t need the money from doing cam work; I needed the freedom. If you hadn’t done what you did…”

She shudders. Jameson rubs her back and whispers something in her ear.

“I’m fine,” she whispers back. Her fingers brace around the coffee mug as she turns back to me. “I was thinking about ending it, Mr. Chekhov. All of it. Had the bottle of sleeping pills stashed away for when I could bring myself to finally do it.” She sniffs. “My sister doesn’t know that, by the way. She was pretty much the only reason why I stayed. Her and Jamie.”

He presses his brow to hers and I turn away to give them space.

But I turn back when something tugs at the back of my mind. “You have a sister? I don’t remember hearing anything about that.”

Melanie looks to her husband, who stills. “Yeah… I was always the more public child. She preferred to stay in the shadows, out of sight and out of mind. Smart cookie.”

“I see.”

“I know you didn’t come all this way just to apologize. Which I appreciate, by the way; don’t get me twisted. But I know you weren’t just ‘in the neighborhood.’”

I chuckle. I like this woman. She reminds me a lot of Daphne, with the same fire in the way she approaches things. And the same kind of auburn hair that shimmers in the light.

“Your parents have been causing me problems lately,” I say by way of explanation. “I wanted to see what you know about it.”

Melanie snorts. “Why am I not surprised? Stewart and Ophelia couldn’t take a hint if it was a gun at their heads. But, to be honest, I don’t know anything about what they’re up to. We don’t speak anymore.”

“At all?”

“Not a peep. But, if it helps, I do know that they never do anything for free. Especially now that they’re financially and socially ruined.”

I nod as I process that. “Is there anything else I should know?”

She hesitates and glances at her husband. They both shake their heads. “Not that we can think of.”

That sets off my radar. Bullshit. She’s lying.

I set my coffee mug down to lean forward in my chair. “If I find out you had anything to do with this?—”

Jameson pulls her back and holds his hand up to me. “Are you threatening my wife?” he growls. “In my home?”

Normally, I’d take this opportunity to remind him who’s asking the questions and who’s supposed to stay in line. But I have to admit, I respect the man.

“It’s okay, honey.” Melanie rubs his chest. “He’s just being thorough. Making sure we don’t get involved. I would never, even if they asked.”

I nod. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”

“Hey, Pasha! How was your?—”

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