by Raven Scott
“Why did you get her a ring if she refuses to marry you?”
I closed my eyes at this probe, remembering the decision that seemed so long ago. Everything before the coup was almost like a different life, and I cleared my throat roughly. “Ophelia will never marry me, and that’s okay. She has her reasons, and I respect that. I knew her view of marriage won’t change. I bought her the ring because I wanted her to be able to put on it whenever she wanted and be happy knowing it’s not the ring that ties us together.” Reaching to scratch my cheek and jaw, I smiled a little as an image of Ophelia sprung up behind my eyelids. “That’s the essence of a good gift. Making her smile and feel good every time she looks at it, no matter how much time has passed.”
“… I knew it was a good idea to ask you, Sascha. Thank you. I know that our previous encounters made me hesitant to call you, but I appreciate you giving me advice.” Aleksander’s voice lilted with true gratefulness as he continued, “If things continue this way, maybe, one day, we can share a drink as… associates. I have a guest today— otherwise, I’d invite you over.”
“I’m not going to ask, Aleksander, but it sounds like whatever outcome you’ve planned to the letter is hopefully a good one. That’s good. I doubt a man like you has many friends, but I’d probably enjoy that drink.” If Aleksander was true… if this wasn’t some sort of manipulation, and he was being honest maybe, Ophelia and I had a chance. “I better get a fancy, new robe if this is going to be a frequent thing, though. Mine’s getting tattered.”
My joke earned me another laugh, a louder, more heartfelt sound than before. Aleksander didn’t reply before hanging up.
I ground my teeth as I held my phone out. The screen darkened before going black, but my mind churned in confusion. If Aleksander Makovich wasn’t such a fucking asshole, we could’ve been friends; if that conversation was an indication, we might even have been good friends.
But that was never going to happen. He was never going to not be an asshole, even if he didn’t mean to. This moment was fleeting and an indicator of absolutely nothing. Shaking my head viciously, I rounded my car to pull open the driver’s side door. I’m supposed to call Ophelia on my way to lunch, but I don’t know if I can keep my mouth shut about this right now. I’ll just call her before my next class.
29
Ophelia
“Why are you naked?” Aleksander Makovich didn’t wait for a reply, and I wasn’t particularly keen on giving him one beyond my slight glare. Shaking his head, he gestured me to follow him up the grand, curving staircase of his lavish home. “How was your flight?”
“It’s just a fancy plane.” My grumble tugged at the corners of my lips, that recent memory floated up behind my eyes. Adjusting my shoulder strap with a snap that echoed off the marble, I raked both my hands through my hair in agitation. “What’s this about, Aleksander? Anything about America could’ve been an email.”
“It’s not about our trip to America.”
Curiosity slathered my ribs as my heart leaped into my throat. Aleksander didn’t elaborate as he led me to his office, and suspicion bubbled up to cloud my vision.
He pushed the door open smoothly, gesturing me in with a sweep of his arm.
One of the two armchairs in front of his desk was occupied, and I clenched my jaw hard. The man stood up before freezing, clearly taken aback by my lack of clothing. Goosebumps washed my arms and down my legs from the intense sweep of his wide, brown eyes. Clearing my throat harshly, I arched a brow as my lips twisted in a small sneer. He was quick to avert his eyes, but my skin crawled from the phantom of his gaze even when I dropped into the vacant chair beside him.
Crossing my knees, I flexed my toes to stop the tension in me from cramping my foot. Energy zinged up and down my spine.
Aleksander planted himself in front of the windows.
Across the vast expanse of his desk, he held all the power, but I was okay with that. I had no choice but to be, anymore.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Darren.”
My eyes narrowed into slits on Aleksander as alarm bells rang in my head. Darren? As in Darren Willians, the arms dealer? “Your trip from the Middle East wasn’t too terrible, I hope.”
“What do you want, Aleksander? You can get away with scrambling your lackies inside the Motherland at your discretion, but you don’t have that liberty with me.” Languidly sitting in the chair next to me, Darren shot Aleksander a pointed, nasty look.
The animosity he felt towards his boss was astonishing, but I kept my expression decidedly neutral.
Aleksander though, was cool as he leaned back to glance between Darren and I.
Now, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
His face was unreadable, his eyes showing nothing as he trained them on Darren. “As you know, I’ve been reorganizing my operations. Ophelia Cherinivsky already knows my plans, but you’re the first person I’m telling explicitly. Within the next 10 years, I’m going to run for Prime Minister of Russia.”
The declaration straightened Darren’s spine rigidly.
I had to admit, when Aleksander said it aloud, it had a different heaviness to it.
Stunned silence met him, and I inhaled deeply.
Darren suddenly found his voice, “Yeah… whatever you’re planning on doing with me…moving me… removing me. It’s not gonna happen, Aleksander. You may be the boss, but these people I deal with don’t trust easily. I’ve spent 15 years building my contacts. You’re not going to singlehandedly destroy it, just because you can.” Darren so casually denied Aleksander that it was obvious he’s done it before.
Rolling my bottom lip between my teeth, I tilted my head back to stare at a spot on the ceiling.
He went on, “I’m one of your strongest links to Ricardo Montoya in Spain. For that matter, I’m definitely your strongest link to India, too. I work for you simply because I was born Russian. You’re not my only option.”
“I’m aware of why you were put in charge of arms, Darren.”
Why am I here? Just as the question popped into my mind, I felt Aleksander’s intense eyes on me. My cheek twitched, and I inhaled deeply before lowering my gaze to meet his.
“What do you think, Ophelia?” Aleksander asked.
“I think this should’ve been an email. I’m not leaving Russia longer than I have to.”
My irritation prompted Aleksander to smirk.
My frown threatened to show on my face. “You’ve made your point. I know you and your dad conspired together to give you a pretext to destroy the families to secure yourself for elections. I know you’re not torturing Aleksi or Erik. I also know this strange rollercoaster of a campaign you’ve been waging against me to get me under your thumb, worked. What else could you possibly do to make me feel stupid?”
“You know… when my father told your boyfriend you made me look incompetent, you drew the exact opposite conclusion most people would.”
Irritation warmed my face, and I crossed my legs opposite.
Aleksander propped his elbows on his desk to lace his fingers. “Do you know the problem with plotting out my every expectation of other people? Those people surprise me sometimes. You surprised me, Ophelia, not because you figured me out, but how fast you did so.”
“Ah, wonderful. I came all the way here to get praised in person.” Planting both my feet on the floor, I hoisted myself up to stand. “Next time, email me.”
Aleksander finally showed some emotion. He frowned, his brows furrowing as surprise flashed briefly in his eyes. “Sit… down.”
Blood drummed in my ears as threat seeped from Aleksander’s pores like hot oil. Slowly sitting down again, my knee cracked in protest.
His gaze pierced me, silently warning that this was not the time to get snarky. “You’re forgetting something important, Ophelia. I told you the day this was all set in motion that if you’re not useful…you’ll have to give me someone that is.”
Flames engulfed my lungs as he sat back,
his sharp eyes flickering to Darren. Sucking in a shallow breath when Aleksander’s brow twitched suggestively, I ground my teeth hard. The tension buzzing along my skin only intensified when Darren glanced at me, and I clenched my hands into tight fists on either side of my thighs. “I’m tired of you, and I’ve only known you a few weeks.”
Real— or not— surprise flashed across his entire face at my low, slow admission.
All the anger bubbling in my veins just dissolved, leaving nothing behind but emptiness. My nails unhooked from my palms, my back slouching sharply. I ran both my hands up my cheeks and into my hair. “I’ll go to America for you, Aleksander Makovich, but consider it my parting gift. I’m not suffering through the intense emotions that I have because of you. I’m not sacrificing my relationship because of you. I’m tired, and you’re not going to push and push and push until I end up face first in the dirt…” When I stood a second time, I didn’t stand there like an idiot. My bare feet were caressed by the carpet.
Aleksander’s wide eyes followed me on my way to the door.
Did I crack earlier than expected? Did I surprise him, or was he acting? Those questions and many more circled behind my eyes, but I didn’t care to find the answers. Not this time.
Shutting the door with myself on the wrong side, I huffed lightly as my heart slowed dangerously. My eyes throbbed wildly. I wiped my nose and mouth with the back of my hand. I was 22 years old— I shouldn’t be dealing with this. I was barely an adult, but barely didn’t seem to mean much in this business.
“Ophelia?”
The curious, feminine voice drew my muddled attention, and ice lodged in my chest.
Envre looked concerned.
Well, maybe, she was genuine, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I’d fucking walk all the way back to Moscow than stay here one more minute.
“What’d he say?” She sounded annoyed as she stalked past me and into Aleksander’s office. Her angry chiding droned into white noise the closer I came to the stairs, and I stood at the top. They looked hard… of course, they’re hard. They’re marble stairs. And there were a lot of them, at least 25.
Aleksander had it all figured out; he didn’t need me. He was using the Santino issues to keep jerking me around. I couldn’t get ahead of him, and he was never going to leave me alone. That’s what people did to objects ‒ used them and fixed them when they were broken ‒ and then kept using them until repair wasn’t an option anymore.
“Ophe—“
The stairs grew longer, the droning in my ears turning into a whistling as I closed my eyes.
“Ophelia! Ophelia— no!”
30
Ophelia
Groaning gutturally, I cracked open my eyes as Envre rolled off me. My right wrist ached hotly, drawing a hiss from between clenched teeth as I struggled to figure what the hell just happened. Pushing myself up to sit, I shook my head wildly while the nerves in my forearm were engulfed in flames.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Blinking hard, I slurred heavily as the shock wore off and my eyes found Envre.
Holding herself on her hands and knees, she, too, shook her head.
I glared hotly when her gaze locked on mine. Gingerly cradling my broken wrist, I huffed steam as irritation flooded every cell in my body.
“I-I thought you were gonna throw yourself down the stairs or something— you looked…” Standing as she sputtered a reply, Envre frowned as she raked back her mahogany waves.
My knees ached in protest, my hip flaring in disdain at being forced to move. Flexing my toes against the marble, I clenched my teeth and sucked in a huge breath to steady myself. Rearing back my hand, the slap of my palm on Envre’s face echoed through the wide, tall halls behind both of us.
She stumbled to the side from the impact.
I fisted my hand as my bones rattled up my arm. She’s got a hard face.
Wide, brown orbs flew to me as she held her cheek, mouth agape, body slouched against the wall.
Behind her, Aleksander noticeably tensed, his hair puffing out like a cat ready for a fight.
I ignored him to gnash my teeth at her. “Even if I was— who the Hell do you think you are trying to stop me?”
If possible, her eyes got even wider— until the brown and gold flecks in them almost disappeared at my snarl.
“Believe it or not, but I’m very fucking much capable of thinking critically. If I was going to kill myself, it wouldn’t be here and it wouldn’t be some half-cocked method of throwing myself down the stairs.”
“I was trying to—“
I growled like a dog.
Envre shut her mouth.
Enraged shivers raced down my spine. “Trying to what, you nosy bitch? Trying to stop me? Trying to help me? You all think you know what’s better for me than me? Do you think butting your fucking noses where it doesn’t belong is going to make me want to serve Makovich? When my parents were alive, I fixed their messes, and they were the ones that took all the risks from you people. And you know what? You’re right. I do fix… I fix, and I fix well. But if I can’t fix the shit storm you’re trying to encircle me with, then I’ll cut my fucking losses.”
Shock and horror mingled in Envre reddened, hand printed face.
I flung out my arm to point at Aleksander with a trembling finger. Envre flinched automatically, but I drew no pleasure from it. “Congratulations! Your boyfriend’s perpetual ‘my dick is bigger than yours’ problem has consequences! The fucking audacity that beating someone into dust for your ego is going to make them upset! You fucking set me up and threaten me then make me feel like a bug under your heel. You sap every good moment I have with a sweep of your hand and you— you— you think I’m not going to snap?”
“Ophelia…” She sounded so sad for me.
A disgusted laugh escaped the dense lump in my throat. The burning in my eyes streamed down my cheeks, and I wiped my snot from my nose to sniffled hard— painfully. My gaze trained on Aleksander standing outside his office door, not a lick of shame or regret glistening under his tightly knit brows. “Your father gave me an out—“
Aleksander’s pupils narrowed into slits now.
I hiccupped a breath, and my lip curled into a sneer. “—because I make you look stupid. You’re about to see exactly how fucking stupid you are. It might’ve been a lie, but if you think I was trying when I cleaned up my father’s idiocy— you’re in for a rude fucking awakening.”
“Ophelia!”
My head snapped to the left and my eyelids twitched.
Sascha stood in the open doorway, his beard bristling and hiding his paleness.
Casting one final glare at Aleksander, I stomped down the stairs as my brain pounded against my forehead with increasing ferocity.
But, even now, in the very back of my mind… the tiniest voice in my head told me that Aleksander had counted on this happening, too. His blank stare— his calm demeanor— it was all because he expected this to happen. I should’ve punched her instead. At least, he probably wouldn’t have thought Envre would get in the middle somehow. Stepping out into the weak sunshine, the slight hairs on my back rose as Sascha followed me, sensibly keeping himself to himself.
“What are you doing here, Sascha?” Pausing just before the gravel lining the driveway, I glanced back as he watched me intently. “Did Malda show up at your hall and order you here?”
“She was worried about you, so I wouldn’t say ‘ordered’… I know I shouldn’t trust anything she says, but I believed her when she said she was acting on her own.” Sascha stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled an uncomfortable expression. “What’s going on, Oppie?”
“That’s a good question.” Aleksander Makovich planned everything down to the second— the second. Goosebumps pocked on my arms and down my thighs. “I’ve been behind all this time— trying to catch up. Trying and failing to get ahead of him. It’s done horrible things to me. Being useful… Aleksander has hung that over my head, and I just thought I had
to be able to answer any question he had— fix anything he needed fixing.”
“But…?”
Staring at a particularly large pebble, I frowned at Sascha’s gently prodding. Coming up next to me, he still didn’t touch me, but he was close enough to make my goosebumps dense and my arms hairs bristle wildly. Taking a deep, cool breath to douse the fire in my lungs, I closed my eyes as I thought back…all the way back.
Back to when my parents were alive, before I realized I would always be ahead of their mistakes. Back to when my brother was my biggest, baddest enemy. Back to when the name Aleksander Makovich was just an amorphous, looming presence in the background.
“That’s not my role anymore. I got complacent with my parents and their blunders. The obviousness that came with experience. But I have no experience with these people.” Every single thing— every time I blinked— every time I breathed— Aleksander Makovich had taken into account. Since the second my parents ceased existing in this world, he’d calculated to the minutia; of course, some of it must’ve been lucky guesses. This was my trial run, and the past few months were years in condensed form.
Aleksander used my greatest fear against me— losing Sascha and this life I had with him. He’d exerted his authority by killing my parents and brother. He’d reminded me that he was always watching me. He’d reinforced our roles as master and servant.