Bratva Dark Allegiance: The Complete Collection

by Raven Scott

  “Lyov, my youngest son, wants me to kill her. Do you have any idea why?”

  My skin crawled at the viciousness of Vyachaslav’s stare and the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. “She’s capable of handling herself. If he wants to try, he can fail, just like Aleksander failed when he let emotions get in the way. Ophelia takes emotion into account and she doesn’t let it drive her actions.” Is this really a conversation I just had? Why? Turning to him as he sat, stately and old and growing into the pew like a fungus, I frowned and stroked my beard thoughtfully. “You came to see me because you thought you’d be able to convince me easier than her? And you brought up all the women in your family as some way to make me think you’ve got experience with the mystery that is the gender? You know… it’s a good thing you’re old, or you’d look just about as stupid as Aleksander does right now… sir.”

  “I’m afraid you put far too much faith in that girl. Things aren’t going to end well for either of you if you don’t, at the very least, attempt to—”

  Closing my eyes, I sighed a terrible, rough sigh and ran my hands up my face into my hair. Twisting on my heel to face Vyachaslav fully, I stalked back up the aisle as his hawk like eyes locked on me. My irritation over the simple fact that he was here no doubt showed on my face, but I didn’t bother hiding it. “Maybe, just maybe…I can’t convince her of anything because I don’t know how dire the situation is. You come here to my work, to tell me about the shit job you did raising your kids. That your prodigal son feels threatened, and you fabricated an attempt on your life, and for what? Vyachaslav Makovich? Why did you do that? Why are you here? Why are you avoiding Ophel—“ My barrage dried at the top of my tongue as what seemed like genuine worry flashed in his eyes. Almost too sharply, my brain skidded to a stop and my jaw threatened to flop right on the floor. “Y-you didn’t—you’re not…” Even the youngest of Vyachaslav’s children was older than Ophelia by a few years, I thought. Lyov ‒ Ophelia had a run in with him, and Malda showed up to save her from the guy.

  The Patriarch’s face darkened like thunder clouds.

  At his reaction, my brows rose as a bark of harsh laughter burst from my throat. “You’re avoiding her because you’re her biological father. Her digging…there’s no way she won’t find out.”

  “… I was not necessarily a consenting party,” he barked out. “This was a long, long time ago, Sascha Matheson, when Ophelia’s parents’ still thought they could curry my favor. Cherinivsky…”

  This is wild. I might pass out. Slinking into the seat across from him yet again, I stretched out my legs and flopped my head back to frown at the high ceiling. Vyachaslav obviously had demons and more than most, but this was just—mindboggling.

  He went on, “My wife died, but I had to continue on. I’m not proud of what I did in my grief. It’s haunted me and I can never forgive myself. If Ophelia were to discover that she’s a Makovich…that her parents plotted that night with the intent to use her to burrow under my fingernails many years later…”

  “It’d probably be a relief.” Ophelia’s image flashed behind my eyes when I closed them.

  Vyachaslav’s eyes bored holes into my face.

  “You should tell her. I guarantee you, sir… she’ll find it relieving to know those people aren’t her family. And before you ask, no I’m not going to do it. I know you’re worried about your family right now. They’ll hate you for Ophelia existing. But they’re young and they haven’t experienced the hardships of a life after love has been ripped away. I doubt any of your kids even remember the years directly following their mother’s death.”

  “… I can see what Ophelia sees in you, Sascha Matheson.” His rasp bounced around inside my office before Vyachaslav stood up to quietly leave the lecture hall.

  I cracked my eyes open, lifting my head.

  Malda came bounding up the stairs as she shot me a wild, quizzical look.

  I was too dazed from my conversation to say anything.

  I had about an hour to decide if I wanted to bring this up with Ophelia or wait and see what the old man did. Chances were, Vyachaslav was dying and suspected ‒ or even knew for sure ‒ and that was why he was doing what he was doing. Chances were even better that he wasn’t dying, and he created this whole bullshit scenario simply because he couldn’t bring himself to say the words.

  Vyachaslav was letting his emotions cloud his rationale when he felt threatened. Like father, like son.

  23

  Ophelia

  “Malda— what are you doing here?”

  She smiled broadly at me.

  I shuffled to the side, gesturing her in with a sweep of my arm. “I’m just about to eat. I’ve been neck deep in paperwork and computer screens all morning.”

  “Find anything interesting that I should know about?” she asked.

  Pursing my lips thinly, my brows furrowed while I shut the door behind her. What had I learned so far, sifting through a lifetime of bitterness and bad business models? Just that my dad hated Martin more than he was willing to verbally admit ‒ Martin wasn’t going to run away with his pregnant girlfriend. He was going to run from her… which wasn’t out of character for him. “My dad’s girlfriend was emailing him asking to meet her. I called her and she said she’ll be here in… about 20 minutes.” All the legal stuff I hadn’t thought about was rushing at me, and I fought a shiver of disgust. My dad was married with kids; whatever legal leg this lady thought she had to stand on wasn’t as strong as she thought it was.

  Quietly, Malda and I walked to the kitchen. I popped open the refrigerator with a heavy sigh. “She seems to think I’ll honor whatever she wants because my dad was ‘in love’ with her. I have all their emails and stuff. And he did promise her some stuff… like, he’d keep paying for her apartment, and they did briefly talk about what would happen when he died. I hope she doesn’t get all crazy, but I’m not sure how to deal with it. I was thinking of just giving her a lump sum of her estimated living costs for 20 years.”

  “That’s very generous. Why indulge her at all?” Malda asked. “She’s only a few years older than you, and she was having an affair with your dad.”

  Shrugging lightly as I grabbed a package of ground beef, I checked the date absently as my mind whirred.

  “What about his other mistresses?” Malda suggested.

  “She seemed like the most rational, so I decided to deal with her first. I honestly think she’s genuinely upset that my dad’s dead. I think she really liked him, even if she didn’t love him. I’m doing it because I just want her to go away and it’s honestly, not a lot of money. $3million Rubles should be on the higher end.” The problem was that even though this woman seemed to be my father’s favorite, she wasn’t the only one. His emails kept piling up…why did he suddenly stop correspondence? Was everything okay? Then, it all turned into anger at being ignored. “I sent out a mass email to the five of them explaining that he’d died suddenly, that I would appreciate it if they would just move on with their lives. This woman, Gigi was the only one who wanted to meet in person immediately.”

  Malda cocked her head at me. “If she’s so rational, don’t you think it’s suspicious if your dad convinced her he was in love with her?”

  Shaking my head, I set the package of meat on the counter as I pondered this notion. I didn’t care for this situation at all, but I had to deal with it. If I could make these women go away… good. I didn’t want to destroy them financially and emotionally because of my father’s empty promises. Ducking under the island to grab a cast iron pan, my lips twisted in a scowl before parting. “I guess there’s really no way to know for sure until I meet her. Speaking of suspicious… why are you here? Was Sascha too swamped or something to talk to you?” When I straightened, Malda was nodding, and my frown smoothened some. “What do you want to talk about?”

  “I dropped by the University, but he was preparing for a lecture and I hate being there, anyway. I didn’t try too hard. I came by because I have an invitatio
n for you from the Patriarch.”

  Pausing at this, I clenched my jaw hard.

  Malda leaned on her elbows on the island. “Makovich has been invited to America by Carlyle Santino, the leader of the Syndicate.”

  Blinking hard, I sucked in a sharp breath as my heart leapt into my throat.

  Malda cocked her head again.

  The silence pooled in my gut in the form of dread. I didn’t fucking want to go to America under pressure! Especially with Aleksander or Vyachaslav, or anyone else who wasn’t Sascha. His brother lives in America, though… “I can’t say ‘no’, can I?”

  Her dark eyes narrowed before Malda shook her head slightly.

  A deep sigh issued from my lips. “Why?”

  “You’re a fixer, Ophelia. You have to fix this rift between Santino and Makovich. We need to get back into the States and Nikayev’s attempts to negotiate with Carlyle hasn’t gone well. If you succeed, you’ll save Aleksi and Erik’s lives and make us a lot of money. Not to mention you’ll get to wag your tongue in Aleksander’s face some more.”

  “… The Patriarch wants me to fix our relationship with Santino when I haven’t fixed the problems created by the attempt on his life?” Scrunching up my nose at my own question, I turned to the stove as my thoughts rushed behind my eyes.

  Malda simply waited for me to work through this problem.

  I braced against the oven door railing. “If he wants me to stop digging, I’ll stop. I don’t like not having answers, but if whatever I find puts me at such risk, I can deal with it. I figured that if Vyachaslav really did orchestrate his fake murder attempt, he’s not making this up as he goes along.”

  “What is it you think is going on, Ophelia?”

  Why is everything changing so suddenly? Closing my eyes to focus, I tugged my lower lip between my teeth. My parents and brother had been dead two weeks; every secret they’d ever had was coming to light. I’d gotten the best of Aleksander and I knew he hated that I did. I just didn’t want to be afraid of him the way I felt when we first met in person. I’d basically achieved that. “I think Vyachaslav planted the idea of assassinating himself to the families so Aleksander’s streamlining of the business would be easier. I think he’s pretending to be disappointed even though everything happened exactly how he thought it would. I think… he and Aleksander are fooling everyone and I was the one who didn’t react as expected, which is why Vyachaslav is doing damage control.” Tilting my head back to watch Malda through narrowed eyes, I licked my lips heavily. “Aleksander wasn’t hastily emotional when he did what he did. The only thing that didn’t go as planned… I was better at my job than they’d anticipated.”

  “… You think very highly of yourself, Ophelia, and with good reason. You’re exactly right. You are truly formidable.”

  I took this as a threat, not a compliment.

  Malda ducked her head in a nod. “How long did it take you to figure out that Aleksander was fooling everyone?”

  “When I went to Saint Petersburg to see Aleksander and Levrenti fight, Levrenti was genuinely upset… Aleksander was almost haughty. At least, if he tried to hide it, it would’ve been more convincing.” I turned to Malda as she stifled a laugh, but my lips dragged down in a frown. “I’m separating my home and work life, Malda, and I would appreciate it if you’d respect that.”

  “I apologize. I was under the impression you and Sascha share thoughts in real time.”

  Exhaling through flared nostrils, I had nothing to say. This mess with Aleksander. It interfered with my life with Sascha, and I couldn’t let it happen again. I’d actually, actively tried to push him away— to get him to break up with me.

  And for what? A game. To Aleksander, everything and everyone was a game he could master. Clenching and releasing my jaw, I turned back to the stove to flick on a burner, covering the flame with the pan. “Aleksander is replacing every important position with his siblings to create a monopoly. If he doesn’t want me involved in that, I’ll back off. But… what happened can never happen again. I won’t let him control my personal life. That goes for Vyachaslav as well. I’ve served Makovich for 6 years, and I’ve served them well. My family was obliterated by them. I foster business with Ukraine for them. I will fix whatever they want me to fix, Malda… but when I’m home, I am home. Believe it or not, Sascha and I don’t tell each other every, single, little thing.”

  “I do believe that. I also believe firmly that you make Aleksander look bad because you’re too good.”

  My heart stuttered at this— so, that’s why she’s here. Makovich wants me out of the way because I embarrassed them. Lyov— Aleksander— Vyachaslav… there was a reason that fixers like me were restrained on such a tight leash.

  Malda sighed heavily. “I’m here as your friend, Ophelia. You’re going to have the chance to leave, and if you value your personal life so much, I think you should consider it. Eventually, everything you know will catch up to you.”

  “Right now, I’m going to settle my family’s affairs…the literal and the figurative ones. I have someone coming to pick up the cars in a few hours. Sascha and I are looking at our options for this house. We haven’t made any decisions about our future, yet. I’m not in a position to clearly consider anything the Patriarch offers me.” Snatching the meat off the counter, I ripped open the plastic with a sharp pop.

  Malda remained quiet at my declaration.

  All the while, my mind was in a fury. Why is this coming up now? What’s Aleksander’s plan, and where did I fit in it? What does Vyachaslav know that he is so afraid of that he’d offer me a secure out?

  Most importantly… going to America was a convenient excuse to cover up the fact that Aleksander or Vyachaslav ‒ or both of them, together ‒ were planning something here in Russia that I couldn’t be privy to.

  “When Aleksander runs for his first political office…” The tension in the air thickened, my voice knifing through it as I glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll probably vote for him. That’s not for another year or two, at the earliest. So, whatever he has planned has nothing to do with me, yet. The secrets he hides… I’ll stay away. I’ll shut down my investigation and go back to simply being our diplomat to Ukraine. But only if he does something for me in return.”

  “What do you want?” Malda ground the question through her teeth.

  Now I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. Aleksander was running for Prime Minister, eventually. “If I manage to fix the relationship between us and Santino… Erik is the one that goes to America, not me. Russia… Moscow is my home. I’m not leaving it.”

  24

  Ophelia

  “Who the Hell are you?” Even as I posed the question, I knew the answer.

  The woman on my doorstep was noticeably pregnant. Her long, dyed blonde hair swished over her shoulder when she jerked her head, her eyes big and wide. Licking her lips, she seemed to have the intentional unintentional sensuality down packed. “You’re Martin’s sister, right? They told me h-he…”

  Arching a brow when she trailed off, I cocked my head. Irritation simmered in my veins; I was in the middle of consoling my dad’s poor mistress and trying to convince her to take a check. That’s right… either she’s the best actress in the world, or she’s genuinely upset as well as stupid.

  “Umm, can we talk?”

  The inquiry brought my mind back to the woman standing in front of me, and disdain tingled down my spine. She hadn’t even told me her name and my gut didn’t like her. “Does this act really work on people?” Summoning all my knowledge of all that I’d read in not only my father’s emails, but my brother’s as well, my brows drew tight.

  She paused— or more like froze.

  I leaned on the doorframe to cross my arms over my chest. “Why would I be stupid enough to talk when you intentionally got pregnant? I mean, I get it. Martin was rich and pretty stupid, and almost every outcome was a win-win for you. That’s the key word, though… was. He’s dead. I am not going to do jack shit for you
or that manipulation tool in your belly.”

  “He’s the one tha—”

  Holding up my palm to quiet her, I ground my teeth. Unless Martin raped her, she was complacent in getting pregnant, too. She couldn’t shift all the blame onto him; there wasn’t much of a way to play victim now, since he was dead. “I don’t care. Goodbye.” She didn’t even introduce herself. Jesus— what was wrong with people? Shutting the door on her, I frowned at the pristine tile directly under my feet. A few years down the line, and she could’ve easily portrayed Martin as a deadbeat father; he left her after promising he’d support her! What about her baby? Clothes, food and school, oh my!

  Running my hands up along my cheeks and combing my hair back, I took a stabilizing breath. Making my way back to the kitchen, my mind turned to the woman whose name I did know.

  Gregoria, an American in Russia for her job, who began an affair with my father about four months ago. She was young, but so vibrant and upbeat that it hurt my eyes to look at her. Entering the kitchen, even with the lights on, Gigi was the brightest thing in the room.

  “I apologize…“ My English sucked, but I was better at English than Gigi was at Russian.

  Smiling at me, the shadows played in her green eyes.

  I’d bet this was as close to death as she’d ever come. “I don’t know what I can do. Throwing money at people is kind of my… best skill.”

  “I don’t want your money, Ophelia.”

  The way she talked grated my ears, but I managed to keep a straight face as I leaned on my elbows on the island.