Page 67 of Sinful Blaze

I’m sure he would have loved to take credit for making me who and what I am today. But that would be a lie—all credit goes to my mother. Not because she ruled with an iron fist or kept our men in line with one hard glare like he did.

But because she showed me how to climb out of hell.

“What do we think of this Daphne?” she asks Mak and Sofi between bites of beet caviar. “Do we like her? Do we anticipate problems?”

“She’s great,” Mak answers with a genuine smile. “I’d say Pash could do worse, but I don’t think he could do better. She’s got a good head on her shoulders, and she can hold her own in a fight.”

Again, Mama’s head whips around to me. “She’s been in a fight? Already?!”

Sofi reaches out to calm her down. “I think what he means, Mama, is that Daphne’s tough. She’s got fire in her. And yeah, like you said, she’s managed to hold her own with this guy, so that’s gotta count for something.”

I glower at my family. “You all talk like I’m so terrible to live with.”

“Not terrible. Just… hard-headed.”

“Grumpy.”

“Demanding.”

“Stubborn.”

“Arrogant.”

“Hard-headed.”

“Short-tempered.”

“A royal pain in the ass more often than not.”

“For fuck’s sake,” I interrupt as they all break up with laughter, “I get it. Enough.”

Mama’s eyes twinkle as she rests a soft hand on my elbow. “The point is that we know you. But this Daphne… you need to let her get to know you, too.”

“I have been?—”

“The real you, Pasha. Not the pakhan. Not the man always in charge who gets his way without question. Show her the sweet Pasha. The artistic soul Pasha. My Pasha.”

I slump back in my seat. What she’s saying is insane. If I started doing any of that shit, I’d lose the respect of half my vors and God knows who else in our underworld.

But… fucking hell, I don’t even know what. I just know that none of it sounds quite as crazy as it ought to. Let her get to know you. That’s madness.

And yet… it doesn’t feel that way.

Hell if I know what that means.

24

DAPHNE

The call comes in while I’m halfway through chopping vegetables and I nearly chop a finger off instead. Cursing up a storm, I rinse my hands in the sink and answer it on the tablet.

I half-expect it to be Pasha checking in, but I’m happily surprised to see that it is, in fact, my beloved sister. “Mel! Oh my gosh, hi!”

“So you are alive!” Melanie exclaims. “For a moment here, I thought you were dead. Since you’ve missed our last. Eight. Calls.”

I wince at the camera as I set the tablet up on its stand. “Sorry. Been distracted.”

“No shit! Mom hasn’t shut up about it since she found out. And here I am thinking, ‘Hey, Daph’s obviously gonna call me and give me all the details.’ But nooooo…”

---