by Raven Scott
“O-oh. Okay.” She nodded. “I’m not really involved in this. I mostly just give Aleksander perspective he wouldn’t ordinarily think of. I mean I told him too, that he shouldn’t be hasty. I think he was really, really freaked out about the notion of his dad dying. They just started trying to fix their relationship. Um, their dad-slash son relationship, not boss-slash employee one.” She paused to look at me. “I know you’re not exactly happy with how he treated you, Ophelia.”
Humming softly, I nodded as I sat back. “The first time I ever heard the name ‘Aleksander’, I was 16. I don’t know how I went so long not knowing who he was, but that’s not the point. My parents were fighting about him telling them what to do. He was only in his mid-20s and he was ordering them around…the audacity!”
Envre smiled knowingly.
I swished myself side to side. Remembering that conversation brought a frown to my face. “He was always the guy you couldn’t cross openly. Aleksander is the god of a religion of his own creation. The past week has been really difficult for me contending that image of him that’d been cultivated my whole life with the fact I was now planted right in front of him.”
“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ophelia.”
“I don’t really care what you think or feel. I’m telling you this because I have leverage on him, now. I’m not telling him anything I know unless he meets me at the negotiating table.”
Her eyes widened in surprise.
If her reaction was from my coldness to her apology or my conviction, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t care. In seconds, my whole view on Aleksander had shifted and I couldn’t let this opportunity slide by me. Just like with Lyov, I had to establish myself early on, even though I couldn’t do it immediately.
Honestly, though, I was mad. I was mad at myself for being so unnerved by someone I had no experience with. I felt angry and bitter for letting Aleksander Makovich get under my skin… and that would not happen again.
17
Sascha
“On a scale of one to ten, how fucked am I?”
The question shocked me, drawing my gaze as Aleksander rubbed his jaw in agitation. “I’m not used to being in this position. I admit that I screwed up. You know Ophelia better than anyone currently alive and maybe dead too, so… how fucked am I?”
“It’s a shame you can’t seem to admit defeat to the person that beat you.” Sitting back on the sofa to frown, I ignore the instinctual crawling of my skin under his narrowed eyes. “If you did, she’d go easier on you.”
“I’ll take my chances.”
Then why’d you ask me in the first place? Staring steadily at Aleksander, I tilted my head back to stroke my beard. He was young and powerful and he’d exercised that power with an iron glove. True, we only had maybe, eight or nine years between us, but being raised to rule was bound to have some nasty side effects. “Frankly, I wouldn’t know how bad you messed up. I usually only hear about the aftermath and Ophelia has never been so pissed. What I can guess is that you’re gonna have a hell of a time turning down whatever she wants. You left her in there, alone, with every piece of information you have. That was a mistake on your part.” I couldn’t shake the nagging sensation of how rarely did Aleksander Makovich request advice. Tugging my beard lightly, I flopped my head back to stare at the ugly painting on the ceiling. “You left a real bad impression on her and then crawled back asking for her help…and lied about your intentions. Oppie fixes, she literally does nothing but fix her parents’ messes and now, she has to fix yours. There’s a reason she gets paid so much to do it. You’d rather let her crush you under her boot than admit she’s a real person who deserves to be treated like a real person? Because she will, and you need her more than she needs you.”
“I know how much she gets paid…I was the one that authorized it.”
Lifting my head to frown blandly, my brows arched suggestively.
Aleksander sat there stiff on the sofa while fuming and grinding his teeth. “… But I get your point.”
“You don’t apologize often, do you, Aleksander Makovich? It’s obvious. I’d bet money that you’ve never ‒ not a single time ‒ admitted defeat. Tell her earnestly that you’ve learned your lesson and you’re going to actively try not to treat her like garbage. She’s not a chess piece, even if everyone else is.”
He jerked his head in a nod just as the door to the anteroom opened.
Satisfaction nearly bowled me over. Aleksander acknowledged he’d fucked up— that was great. All of this could’ve been avoided, though, if he didn’t make the mistake of thinking every person was expendable. Some people, like his brother and Ophelia, simply weren’t realistically replaceable.
“What did she say, Envre?” he asked the girl who’d wandered in.
Envre sashayed over to perch on the armrest of the sofa, and
My interest peaked at her drawn expression. She was pretty, plain, but obviously lived a long, long, young life.
Aleksander stared at her. “I didn’t expect her to pour her heart out to you or anything, but—”
“She said she psyched herself out, and you’re not nearly as godlike as she was led to believe.” Her tone was chiding, almost.
Aleksander groaned softly as he flopped his body back forcefully.
Envre went on, “She won’t tell you anything unless you negotiate. I told you before that your stupid idea to marry her off to some dirtbag over the Urals wasn’t going to work, Aleksander.”
“I wasn’t actually going to go through with it…I just needed something to dangle over her.”
My heart nearly stopped beating long before Aleksander’s poor attempt to rationalize came rolling off his tongue. Marry her off? Ophelia? Was that why she kept bringing up breaking up so much? Before last week, she’d never breathed a mention that she thought we needed space— or that she doubted me standing by her.
But if Ophelia thought she couldn’t withstand Aleksander, and he’d told her she would suffer the same fate as her parents…
“I take back what I said just now.” Hoisting myself up, I scowled darkly as both pairs of eyes watched me from across the low coffee table curiously. “Ophelia won’t give you an inch, no matter what you do. And we’re leaving. You might as well cut your balls off now, because that’s what it’ll take to get her to tell you anything.”
“Aleksi,” Aleksander called out.
The hulky guy who’d been watching a movie on his phone the entire time I’d been here finally moved at Aleksander’s command.
As I looked over at him, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
Aleski only shrugged. Casting Aleksander the most ‘I told you so’ look possible, the scar on his face rippled as he frowned. “You’re fucked, Carlyle. Accept it. Everyone told you to back up and think, but you ignored us. What’s the point of having any of us around if you won’t listen to us? So… I think this guy’s right. You accept the consequences and let them go home where they can decide exactly where they want to display your balls in a jar.”
Well, this was a surprising twist in this terrible drama. Aleksi didn’t make any move against me, he barely even looked at me, as I exited the room. A fired breath escaped my nostrils. I clenched and released my jaw while my mind worked furiously.
“Hey…”
Ophelia’s call drew my gaze.
Her posture seemed lighter than it had been in days as she bounced down the stairs. “You look mad…what happened?”
“I spent a few minutes too many with Aleksander. You, on the other hand, look very good.”
Ophelia smiled broadly—her beautiful, happy smile that had rarely left her face in four years. She still wore bags under her eyes ‒ still looked tired ‒ but she clearly felt better than she had in a long time.
“Are you ready to go?” I asked. “You went through all that in a few hours?”
“There wasn’t nearly as much to actually read as there was with my parents’ stuff. I’m ready, yeah.”
Meeti
ng her at the bottom of the curved staircase, I wrapped my arm around her shoulders. She’s warm. A smile of my own tugged at my lips, and I glanced over at the closed door to my left with a smugness.
She let out a sigh. “I need to go home and think…”
“Do you want me to drop you off at your place, or do you want to come to mine?” We strolled out of Aleksander’s mansion without any hesitation. The overcast had grown dark as I took a deep breath of the wet air. “It’s gonna rain— we’re probably better off taking the train back.”
“Yeah. We can go to yours. Your car is still at my parent’s house, though.”
Waving off her concern, I exhaled a satisfied sigh at how all of this played out. Squeezing Ophelia to my side, I ran a hand through my hair roughly. My mouth dried while we descended the steps; I’d been to Saint Petersburg enough to know where the train station was, at the very least. “We’ll walk until we find a bus stop. There’s some things we need to talk about, Oppie.”
She hummed softly in agreement.
I hoped beyond hope Malda wasn’t listening in on our conversation. Making it to the gravel drive, I cleared my throat roughly before opening my mouth, “What else did you say to Envre?”
“I knew she wasn’t just checking on me to be nice, so I didn’t tell her anything. Why?”
Hesitation gripped my heart, but I couldn’t not bring up what Envre had revealed.
Curious eyes bored holes into my face. “What did she say I said?”
“She said Aleksander threatened to marry you off like Vyachaslav did to your parents.”
Ophelia stiffened, her gait failing mid step as she gasped.
Pausing to catch her eyes, I clenched and released my jaw a few times against the anxiety that threatened to lock it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I-I had time to ignore it, s-so I did.”
I didn’t believe this at all.
Ophelia tore her eyes off me to scuff her heel against the gravel. “Okay, maybe ‘ignore’ is a strong word. I just—I didn’t want to acknowledge it until I really had to.”
“So, when you said he would replace you, you knew he really meant that he’d find a puppet and use you anyway.” I fought a grimace. “Why did you suggest you wanted to wear the ring I gave you for your birthday?”
She lowered her head. “Because I thought that if I did only have two months, it’d be my only chance to wear it. My parents hated each other, but you know why they never divorced? Why they lived together, why they had kids together? Because Vyachaslav threatened to kill them if they didn’t do what he wanted.” Hugging herself, Ophelia sighed heavily, sadly. “You have no idea how awful it is to be threatened with anything by a man like Makovich.”
With this confession, my heart throbbed painfully. “If you don’t tell me what’s happening, how am I supposed to get an idea of how awful it is, Oppie?”
She just shook her head sullenly.
I closed the distance between us. Once again, I wrapped my arm around her. “Let’s go home.”
18
Ophelia
“Your phone’s off, right?” Sasha asked.
Licking my lips heavily, I nodded as my hand went to my pocket automatically. Malda had assured me she didn’t listen in, but we couldn’t just take her word for it.
Sascha sat back as the train sped out of Saint Petersburg, leaving that horrible city and horrible family far behind. “What did you find out?”
“I’m pretty sure it was an inside job.” My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth at his highly arched brows— the quick tilt of his head. “I think Vyachaslav either instigated it or let it happen. I don’t know why, but the aftermath makes it the most likely scenario.”
“The fuck kind of man tries to assassinate himself?”
Shrugging lightly, I splayed my fingers in helplessness; I’d asked myself that same question. The facts didn’t lie, though.
Scratching his beard roughly, Sascha sunk into his seat with a frown. “Aleksander’s whole spiel is power to the people, right? In order to bring Russia up, he needs to have that power if he wants to spread it. Russia’s never been in a good way, and it’s particularly bad right now. The Ruble is .016 of the U.S. Dollar…”
“Yeah. The only thing I can think of is that either the attempt on the Patriarch can either really help Aleksander, or it can really help someone or something else. The families are not known for their independent thinking of the greater good. Historically, they’re important because most of our business had shared risk. You out someone and you out yourself as well. Ever since Aleksander took over, he’s pumped attention on himself and the socialist fronts he’s created. He’s going to run for office. That’s the obvious thing.” Sascha’s surprised expression told me my assumption was only obvious to me. A sigh built in my chest.
“Everyone thinks they can do it better than the last time,” Sasha stated. “Aleksander’s entire economic presence is based on equal wealth distribution appropriate to skill. If you read the business model on Makovich’s website, it reads like everyone has a price. Doctors, lawyers, garbage men, call center representatives… they all have an intricately determined price tag.”
“That’s definitely not the first place my mind would go if someone tried to assassinate me. How would killing his dad do him any good?” Russia at the moment was a democracy, but anyone with eyes knew this country was in a bad state.
Sascha’s eyes narrowed, as he seemed to put the pieces together, his head tilting curiously. “You think he’s going to run for Prime Minister? If that’s true, how would anything like an assassination work for him?”
“The only thing separating me and you,” I explained. “Is what we know. If we never met, you’d never know Makovich Industries was just a huge, money laundering front designed to captivate the masses. Everyone knows someone that works at Makovich in some capacity and people who don’t work there want to. And the ones who do work there don’t want to screw it up because it’s the best job they’ll ever get.” Turning to stare at the back of the empty seats in front of us, I fought a frown. I was still working through the ‘why’ and potential ‘how’, but rarely was I the one that screwed up. “If Aleksander did run for some office, there wouldn’t even be a point in running against him. His father being the target of an assassination attempt, gives him the excuse to get rid of everyone who knows too much and will probably use it against him. The families are enemies as much as friends. If they think they can get ahead, they’ll do almost anything for it.”
“Okay…” Sasha gave a slow nod of his head. “Maybe ignore that part for a second. Why would you think Aleksander wouldn’t think of that possibility by himself? You’re bargaining with our lives on the assumption that he’s a dense asshole, but even you have to admit he’s doing something right, Oppie.” Sascha tangled our fingers together as he continued with concern lacing his tone, “What’s to stop him from agreeing to what you want and then just killing you anyway?”
His palm felt so warm and comforting against mine as I answered, “Aleksander won’t consider it simply because he’s biased. His father, dying? No one elects to get shot at and I’d bet money that Vyachaslav is more than content letting himself fade into obscurity if it helped Aleksander’s cause. The old man is smart ‒ this isn’t the first time he’s done something crazy ‒ and it paid off. Aleksander is much more straight laced. If Vyachaslav thought with certainty that being assassinated would give Aleksander some substance, he’d probably set it up. However, I don’t think this was a serious attempt. I think it was a setup for an excuse to get rid of the families because we’re not needed anymore the way we were in the past. Not to mention the overhaul. Aleksander is centralizing his operations. This pretext is the next logical step to getting people out of the way. The only issue… is that Aleksander fucked it up.”
“By moving too hasty and letting his emotions get in the way?” Sasha asked. “You said he kept all the kids from the families, right? He kept you, Erik, and t
he other guy. One person from each family to keep things running. I wouldn’t put it past him to think he could strongarm and just ignore the consequences of totally obliterating everyone…”
Humming in agreement as Sascha trailed off, I scratched the back of his hand lightly and closed my eyes. Whatever Vyachaslav thought would happen by attempting to assassinate himself had happened. The operation was a success, for the most part. Most likely, the problem that now presented itself was Aleksander had spaces he needed filled and no one to fill them.
So, he was using his siblings as placeholders and that was a mistake.
“He screwed up by assuming that controlling everyone and everything around him means they won’t try to move on their own. Just like earlier, with Levrenti when we first got there. Aleksander has no recourse for someone he needs defying him. That’s the problem right now. If he wants to succeed, his first threat shouldn’t be ‘do it or I’ll kill you’. There’s nothing beyond that, especially when you kill everyone that might be used as leverage.” After today, my whole view of Aleksander had… wilted. No longer was he this godlike figure, terrifying and glorious at the same time. No longer did he make my heart race with uncertainty.
Just like most other people around me, Aleksander was just an idiot now…A powerful idiot. At the very least, I could work with that. I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, and as long as I could justify it, he couldn’t lash out at me. In this game, he’d unwittingly given me all the freedom I’d mistaken for subservience. Right now, in this moment, I held all the power. “He’s gonna have to fucking suck it up. He needs me way more than I need him. That’s the problem with this kind of thing, Sascha. You get used to having people do shit for you, and when they suddenly turn on you, you don’t know what to do. I’ve been working independently long enough to know when I’m coming out on top.” My voice rasped slightly with my conviction and I squeezed his hand. Fire burned behind my eyes, my lips thinning from the satisfaction that ripped through me.