Page 44 of Sinful Blaze

“Think what you want, Chekhov, but the answer is still the same. We need time.”

“Time for what?”

Brennan sniffs and rummages through his top desk drawer some more, which is really starting to piss me off. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, you know, heh. And what you’re proposing greatly impacts the national infrastructure?—”

“What does Cora think?”

As expected, the mention of his wife stops him in his tracks. Figures. I’d bet good money he hasn’t even given her filled her in on the details of my offer. She’s a ball buster, but she’s not an idiot. Cora Brennan knows a good deal when she sees it and had she been shown this one, I wouldn’t have to sit here and tango with her pathetically flustered husband.

I narrow my gaze at him. “You haven’t shown her. I bet you haven’t even spoken to her about it at all, have you?”

He sniffs again and spreads his hands out. “Look at this. This is my office. My name on the goddamn door, not hers. I don’t have to show her a damn word if I don’t want to.”

“Oh, I understand that.” I lean forward, my smile anything but warm. “Which begs the question: why don’t you want to?”

Brennan has no response to that.

“You and I both know this is the deal of the century. For you, for your career—hell, for our troops overseas. I will get you state-of-the-art weapons at a fraction of the cost compared to what your department is currently paying. You want to talk about taxpayers’ money? Try telling them you’d rather waste it on cheap, shoddy artillery that jams up just when their boys need it most.”

Truth be told, money is the least of my concerns here. I’m in this for coverage. Plausible deniability for my other enterprises. That’s where the real riches lie: in the shadows.

And there, the Chekhov Bratva has billions to gain.

If only this asshole would stop pussy-footing around and sign on the dotted fucking line.

I suck in a deep breath and consider my next words carefully. As much as I’d love to treat him the same way I treat every other bastard who goes back on his word, I can’t. Not if I want to stay out of prison and keep things running smoothly for the Bratva.

For my family.

“This is your office, yes. And you and I go a long way back, brokering many other deals right here.” I tap his desk with a finger. “In. This. Office.”

Senator Brennan eyes me warily. “So you understand?—”

“So I think you need to understand.” I rise to my feet. “You promised me this deal. You gave me your word as a senator of this office. I expect you to fulfill your word—or we’re going to have some serious problems.”

“You can’t threaten me!”

“I’m not.” I straighten, adjust my suit jacket, and give him one last, hard stare. “I’m promising you. And believe me when I say that unlike you, I know how to keep my promises.”

I’m in a foul mood after leaving the senator to cower in his office. I need visceral reminders that someone in this world knows how to pull through, so I text my sister and arrange to meet up with her at one of our private hangars.

Sofi let me know this morning that a new delivery of specialized ammunition was due to arrive after a long delay. She’d insisted on overseeing the inbound processing herself to avoid further fuckups.

As I park my car in the hangar, I can see her barking orders to every man who isn’t already scrambling to swiftly obey her. She doesn’t stop her stride even when she hears me slam the driver’s door shut.

“Get Vlaski on the phone and tell him it’s today or never,” she orders one of our lower vors. “If he pulls any shit, we’re canceling the order. Make sure he knows it.”

Watching my baby sister keep everyone in line is already soothing my temper. She’s a mirror image of our mother with her long, dark hair and slim build, but she has the same fire and tenacity in her soul that I’d need from any man as my second.

Which she reminded me of the one and only time I suggested she find a man, get married, and have a few kids of her own.

My ears are still ringing from how loud she screamed in my face that day.

I cock a brow at the crates being loaded into one of our covertly disguised trucks. “I do like making money. Can’t do that if you pull the order.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t like being nagged by some mudak who can’t wait one more goddamn minute for his fucking guns.” Sofi braces her hands on her hips as she keeps a sharp eye on the whole process. “Did you know he actually propositioned me? Me! ‘As compensation for the delay.’”

I scoff. “What did you tell him?”

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