The Fixer: Bratva's Dark Allegiance (Bratva Dark Allegiance Book 1)

by Raven Scott

  But that would never happen. Aleksander Makovich enjoyed his power. Pawns may be replaceable, but it was still a hassle. This was her only saving grace right now.

  “… When I was 7, I went outside during a rainstorm because I wanted to play in the rain.”

  Tearing me from my thoughts, Ophelia sniffled a little as my brows twitched in interest. She downright refused to tell me about her childhood, so I could only assume it was traumatic in some way.

  She went on in a quiet voice, “My dad locked me out. He stood right there in the doorway, and I thought he was waiting for me, watching me. But when I tried to go back in, he shook his head. He didn’t let me in until my toes hurt from the cold. Finally, he told me, he said… ‘We’re Cherinivsky’s, Ophelia, and Cherinivsky’s don’t run around in the rain like poor brats with no homes to keep them dry’.”

  The coldness in Ophelia’s tone sent shivers down my chest, ruffling the hairs before she took her hand from mine to smooth them. Pulling up the blanket, she smoothed that too, while my mind churned over her confession.

  “Another time, Martin decided to flood the bathroom and pin it on me. I had to clean it all up by myself. The maids didn’t want to risk their jobs for me. Martin stood over me the whole time, making comments and telling me it’s what you deserve.” If it was possible, her tone got chillier.

  I tightened my arm around her back in an effort to keep her warm.

  “When I was done, my parents told me that they hoped it was a good lesson… that I learned something. And I did. Martin was the only boy, so he was the favorite. Nothing I did would ever convince anyone otherwise, and my only comfort was knowing that he’d fuck it up somehow, someday, so bad that he couldn’t blame it on me. And my mom…”

  The venom with which Ophelia spat those three, short words gripped my whole body in anticipation. Her mother had always hated me so passionately because she wanted to control Ophelia so badly. Honestly, I’d never found out the root of why and the time had passed to ask. Not that I’d get a straight answer, anyway.

  “My mom despised me more as Martin and I got older. I was better than him at everything. I learned to swim faster. I had better grades than him. I topped him on Sports Day, and I made better friends easier than him. When I decided not to go to Uni, my mom was so relieved. And then… Martin flunked out. But hey, he’s still better than me because he tried, right?”

  “… You’re alive, Oppie, and they’re not.” God, she felt frigid in my arms. Rolling over to hold her to my chest, I buried my nose in her hair. Even then, I couldn’t feel my damn teeth chattering.

  “Love and live are one letter off,” she stated quietly.

  “You’re making me feel really bad right now, so just stop talking, please.” My lips quirked up, and I squeezed her a little tighter. Pulling the comforter over us completely, I simply went back to stroking Ophelia’s hair. She didn’t warm up, but at least she wasn’t getting any colder.

  I had enough information to keep my mind busy and my mouth shut. Ophelia’s home life was bad; I knew this already. If these were the stories she was sharing now, I couldn’t imagine the worst of them. There were always going to be things she wanted to keep secret. I respected this.

  But this… whatever this was… kept wreaking havoc on her, and that wasn’t very easy. Maybe, Ophelia wasn’t as rock solid as she pretended to be. She was only 22 for fuck’s sake. A 22 year old with 22 years of experience in this. That’s about as long as I’ve had my degrees.

  When things got broken down like that, it seemed overly simple. Ophelia had just as much experience in her field as mine. If only she were 15 years older, or I was 15 years younger…

  13

  Ophelia

  Straddling Sascha’s thighs, I rubbed down either side of his spine with my palms. He was so warm, so sturdy. A tiny smile fixed between my cheeks. Sinewy muscles eased under my hands, his skin twitching when I leaned down. Conforming to his back, I soaked up his comfort; he wasn’t even holding me. I was just holding him, and it felt so wonderful. “I love you, Sascha.” Kissing the nape of his neck, I hummed softly. “I’m thinking… maybe I should open the second drawer of your nightstand for the first time since closing it…”

  Regret…

  “I would love if you did that, Oppie.” Craning his neck to look at me, Sascha smiled lazily. “I love you, too.”

  Guilt…

  My phone chirped insistently and a groan of foreboding tumbled out of my mouth. Reaching over to the heap of my clothes, I squinted at the brightness. A gasp of surprise escaped me, my brows rising.

  Sascha propped on his elbows to twist, his face painted in curiosity.

  I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth. Uncertainty flooded my veins, making my thumb tingle as I swiped the ‘Answer’ button. “Hello?” I held my breath as I scrambled to my feet, my phone burning the soft cartilage of my ear. “This is Ophelia.”

  “Did you really find all this like this, or are you messing with me, Ophelia?” Aleksander Makovich chuckled.

  I tensed as prickles raced down my spine.

  He kept chucking. “You know…it’s been far too long since I thought something was just funny. Maybe, I’ll commission this into a play, so I can see it in action.”

  “I’m— I—w-what do you want?” Perching on the ottoman, I held my head in my free hand and fought a sigh. “I have more time to—”

  “You always have more time until it runs out, Ophelia. I gave you two months to prove your worth to me because I know you already have appointments that you can’t just move up. I didn’t just spit out a time frame. Relax.”

  Aleksander Makovich telling me to relax only wound me up more tightly, and my back started to ache.

  “Anyway… there is one urgent thing. This plot… It doesn’t seem like your mother or brother could draft it by themselves. Even with your father’s half a brain, it’s a little too sophisticated. I want your input, do you have any idea where they’d get some… inspiration?”

  Long, nimble fingers wrapped around my shoulders and the base of my neck as I sucked in a sharp breath. Licking my dry lips, I leaned into Sascha’s hands to close my eyes. Every thought I could conjure flashed behind my lids. His warmth, his wonderful touch, combatted the icy tendrils slithering from my phone. Firmly kneading the writhing muscles under my skin with his thumbs, Sascha silently kissed my other cheek. “Erik Avernisk is the only one I can think of. You already have him, though, so why not just ask him?”

  “He’s a world class liar. Even if I did ask him, I wouldn’t believe anything he said. Right now, he’s with Demitr and holding out, which is surprising. It’d be foolish of me to save face and not admit that I can’t read him…can’t tell if he’s lying to me. It’d be even worse to think I could trust what he said. You’ve known each other all your lives, Ophelia. Why are you so sure it’s him?”

  My mouth dried at his brutal honesty, my lips falling into a deep frown. Aleksander Makovich… bad at something— the audacity! How strange it truly was to listen to someone like him admit he couldn’t do something. Slumping back into Sascha’s arms fully, I flopped my head back and moved my phone to my other ear. My heart beat slowed as he locked me in his secure embrace; in his arms, not even Aleksander could hurt me.

  Of course, it helped that Aleksander was 700 kilometers away.

  “Erik loves animals. Torturing him won’t get you anything, but…” Trailing off as sourness coated my tongue as I inhaled big through my nose. “I’m sure its him because there’s no one else. Everyone else is dead or too young to be able to do something like this. Even if it’s not him, why does it matter to you? Your best option is to replace everyone. You’ll never trust Erik and there’s no ‘maybe’ about it, Aleksander.”

  “Replace everyone but you, you mean?”

  I gulped hard at this, and Sascha’s arms tightened around me. Pulling me deeper into his lap, he buried his face in my neck. Just his mere presence comforted me.

  Aleksander Mako
vich didn’t let me savor it as he went on, “I was thinking you’d be able to get more information, or at least, watch his interrogation. I’ve arranged for you to come to Saint Petersburg, your flight leaves Moscow Vnukovo Airport in 4 hours.”

  “… I can’t just get a Skype call? How long is this going to take? Because I’m still sifting through my parents’ stuff and all assassination plots aside, I have to rework my Ukraine meeting in three weeks because they never screwed up what I predicted they would.” I don’t even want to think about this right now. I couldn’t have one day… one day!

  My bland tone drew silence from the line.

  “It’s easy to call me and have me fix problems, but I’m rarely on the proactive side, you know this. Two months and I—“

  “Ophelia…”

  The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up, and my heart leaped into my throat.

  “Shut up and get here when you’re supposed to. Unless you want to end up next to your brother and parents, do what you’re told. You’re right, training someone new will be a hassle and a waste of time, but I have time. Do you?” Aleksander’s tone could cut steel, hard and low and crisp, not like he was grinding through his teeth because he was angry. No, this was something he did often enough to know the impact it had on everyone.

  I felt the blood drain from my face, silence ringing in my ears when my own pulse nearly stopped.

  “Unfortunately, I’m not in as good a mood as I was the day I killed your parents. Let me put this in terms you’ll understand.” He cleared his throat patronizingly. “Open your mouth unnecessarily, and you’ll have a hole through the back of it. Got it? Good. Someone will be waiting for you when you land to bring you to my mansion. Oh, and before I forget… Bring your boyfriend. I’m keen on finishing our conversation.”

  My abdomen tightened as even the trilling vanished from my scope of comprehension. “Y-yes…” Aleksander hung up, the short beeps sending jolts through my face. A powerful headache sprung behind my eyes, as goosebumps blanketed my entire body. What the fuck is going on? I blinked hard, gulping down the dense lump in my throat that made it impossible to breathe. My lungs screamed for fresh air.

  “Oppie…”

  The tender call made me jump and I whipped around with a strangled gasp. My hand flew for Sascha’s face but missed, my nails barely scratching the tip of his nose.

  He didn’t even jerk back, his eyes widening.

  I found enough mind to glare. Shock slackened his thickly stubbled jaw as my own clenched to grind my teeth.

  “Why can’t you just…” Trailing off, I lost my train of thought under the sharp ache against my forehead, I slid off the edge of the sofa. My legs— I couldn’t feel them…

  I couldn’t feel anything.

  “Fuck…” Slurring heavily, I buried my hands into my hair to ease some of the pressure on my chest. It didn’t help; I still couldn’t breathe, and black spots assaulted the edges of my vision. “What do I do?”

  At this point, I’d rather fucking die than deal with Aleksander Makovich. This was too much to put on my shoulders. I didn’t want to suffer through this anymore, and it’d only been a few days!

  Why— why— why was I being subjected to this shit?

  Gingerly, my phone slipped up along my fingers. The metal burned my fingertips, drawing my darkening gaze I dropped my phone carelessly onto the carpeted floor. Sascha wordlessly grabbed me. I couldn’t see his face— everything was black even as the smell of him sharpened in my nose. Struggling wasn’t something I had the energy to attempt.

  Not that it really mattered when Sascha sat down to fold me against his chest with his legs and arms. Bundled up so small and safe, my brain finally puttered intently enough to expand my lungs. The scent of him flooded my system, my hard gasps and slight gags floating high above our heads. Shivering violently, I only managed not to black out by focusing on him softly kneading my scalp to ease the pressure on my skull.

  I wouldn’t be surprised if I ended up bleeding out of every hole in my face if the throbbing was any indication.

  14

  Sascha

  “So… this is a private jet, huh? It’s just a fancy plane…” My stupid joke earned me a forced laugh, but I took my win for what it was.

  Ophelia acknowledged me for the first time in hours. Her brown eyes flickered across the aisle as the plane shook from its descent, clouded over from all the intense thinking she’d been doing. “That plot wasn’t the only thing I found on my dad’s computer. My brother got a girl pregnant.”

  My brows rose in surprise.

  Ophelia sighed heavily. Bags hung dark and heavy under her eyes, their spark dull when they captured mine. “According to my dad’s fuming emails, Martin was going to run away with her to Germany, where she’s from. I kept looking around after getting a little tipsy.”

  “If he was going to do that, why’d he plot to kill Vyachaslav? That’s a risk I wouldn’t take.”

  It seemed Ophelia already thought of that question, but she shrugged a slender shoulder tiredly.

  Worry replaced the blood in my veins, dragging down the corners of my mouth. “Why didn’t you bring this up before?”

  “Because I was stupid enough to think I’d have some quality time with you, and I didn’t want to spoil it.”

  My brows drew tightly at the rasp in her tone. Ophelia certainly knew she wasn’t a genius or anything, but she’d never called herself ‘stupid’. This had always been a title she’d reserved for her family.

  “I don’t know what’s going on— I hate it. I always react and now, I can’t get ahead of anything that’s happening.”

  “Who was your dad emailing? People make mistakes sometimes. Maybe he sent the email to someone by accident.”

  “That’s the thing…he was emailing Avernisk. My dad hated Avernisk because they’re a rung above us. Above them was Aleksander, and then Vyachaslav. Now… The families aren’t the only ones with vacancies. Knowing Aleksander was torturing Erik, and Erik was holding out, makes me think he’s got a reason not to break. I wouldn’t put it past my dad to be fooled by some pictures off Google.”

  Not exactlym the first thought that comes to mind, but… At least, Ophelia seemed more stable, even though I had a nagging feeling she was just psyching herself up. Rising, I shuffled into the seat next to her. This time, she didn’t pull away when I took her hand and laced our fingers together.

  She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry you had to cancel your lectures tomorrow. I can’t do this by myself, and I hate it. Aleksander is the only one with a big picture and to react effectively, I need to know more.”

  “Is that what you want? To react?” I asked. “You want to spend the rest of your life reacting to Erik Avernisk, instead of being the one to not need a cleaner in the first place?” The notion that she’d never allowed herself to think settled thickly between us. “Is that what you want, and you’re afraid of it?”

  “I try not to think about that answer, Sascha. The thing with the families is that we only have power because Aleksander allows it. Cherinivsky… Roknevi… Suvensk… they’re just names… flimsy names. Allowing Makovich more control for more freedom is asinine. So, either I sell my soul to the devil, or he kills me. This isn’t fair to you, Sascha… but there’s not much room between being a slave and being dead for a relationship. My name is a collar and not those convenient ones that split in the middle and get longer or shorter.”

  “Oppie… are you trying to break up with me on a private jet in a city I’ve never been to, over a man who’s ruining your life for fun? Or worse…are you expecting me to break up with you over that?”

  The nastiest expression crossed her face. Her nose scrunched, lips twisting between the saddest of frowns and a horrible sneer.

  Squeezing her hand gently, I took a second to really choose my next words carefully. “If you want to break up, you’re going to have to say it. All five words.”

  “You’re not gonna tell me it’ll get better a
nd to just hold out?” She tilted her head away from me, but her hand didn’t leave mine.

  Despite the conversation, a tingly worm of satisfaction and relief slithered through my veins. Inhaling deeply, I rolled my jaw with a slight shake of my head. “I’m not going to invalidate your feelings by lying. You have a realistic expectation of the world, Ophelia. You’re a fixer. So, all I can do is support you while you fix the incredibly fucked up situation your parents put on you…again.” Licking my dry lips, I turned to her a little more even as she craned her neck to hide from me. “You realize that, right? That’s all this is, your parents fucked up, and you’re left to clean it up. You’ve done it before. This time is only different because Aleksander is involved.”

  Ophelia’s jaw ticked.

  I didn’t want to keep talking and screw up what I’d barely managed. Twisting back to stare at the tips of my shoes, I drummed my fingertips on my thigh absently. This kind of dilemma… we’d never had to deal before. Her parents hated me…fine. Whatever. I could handle it, but more importantly, Ophelia knew it was inconsequential.

  When faced with a brick all, all she could do was slam her head against it and hope the mortar chipped a little. “What do you want, Sascha?” Ophelia asked as she watched the ground come closer and closer.

  My cheek twitched at this question…Wasn’t that just the question of the day, though. Behind my eyes, my mind churned out too many answers. The only similarity between them—she was somehow still in my life.

  Four years.

  After four years, I couldn’t not have Ophelia with me. She was young, but I was the immature one in this relationship, I thought. I had to coax her to have a little fun when she was stressed. I had to get her hyped to try something new. In some ways, Ophelia was like a crotchety, old lady to set in her views and her ways.