by Raven Scott
Lyov was sitting in the computer chair when I turned around, and an involuntary bark of a scoff escaped me.
He walked the seat around the desk, his eyes watching mine, like he was a child daring me on a technicality.
For a fraction of a second, red seeped into my vision. My mouth dried as something dark and ugly clawed at my throat. Honestly, it’d been so long since I’d directly involved myself with this business that these feelings were almost alien. This need to assert myself, to prove I meant business…Prove I wouldn’t take anything less than I deserved. “You’re pathetic, Lyov Makovich.” The pathetic part would be that Lyov was older than me, but he acted like a 6 year old.
He paused, the leather seat creaking when he stiffened.
I crossed my arms over my chest with a slight shake of my head. “You really enjoy being miserable and stupid, don’t you?” My voice was level, calm, not portraying any of the disgust I felt, only the pity. “Does acting like this give you a reason to hate everyone, so you don’t have to hate yourself? I guess it doesn’t matter. If you can’t do your job, I’ll call Big Brother and get you replaced. He’s been doing that a lot recently, right? I wonder what he’d do to you because you’re hindering my investigation of the people that tried to kill your daddy.” I poured all my disgust and haughtiness into my eyes.
He slowly stood up to turn on his heel and storm out.
The door slammed hard enough to make me wince, echoing off the wood trim and bookcase covering the left wall. “Cool.” Grabbing the chair, I wheeled it back to its spot to sit and type in my dad’s password. Squinting at the screen, a tiny smile tilted my lips. “That works, too.”
My smile didn’t last long, though. I didn’t like acting this way, being hurtful to others because it was how I had to be. Nothing was worse than having a stranger talk down to me. Nothing was worse than telling someone I didn’t know opinions based on a minute of interaction. Granted, Lyov was an extreme baby of a man, but that gross taste in my mouth was still intense.
8
Sascha
My phone buzzed for the 50th time in about as many minutes, and I sat down to fish it out of my briefcase. I was fairly certain Ophelia wasn’t having an emergency because of the regularity of the texts. Whenever she was embroiled in her work, she’d blow up my phone just to express whatever she was feeling.
I thought it was cute, and I liked how she didn’t expect an answer, especially when I was teaching.
“Professor Matheson?”
Pausing unlocking my screen, I glanced up under furrowed brows at that familiar but not too familiar voice.
Malda stood, waiting, watching me expectantly. “Can I have a moment?”
I turned my phone against my leg. “You’re not one of my students, Malda.”
She rolled her eyes at me, gesturing to my office door behind me with a wave of her hand.
I only arched a brow, trying fruitlessly to hide my scowl. “What can I help you with? I already had a one sided conversation this week.”
“With Kiri, yes I know. It won’t be happening again. I’m not here as your student. We need to talk and I thought you’d want to do that privately.”
I almost groaned aloud at this little tidbit of infuriating information. Malda was so grumpy that it rubbed off on me immediately. I stood up to slide my phone into my pocket.
“Have you talked to Ophelia this morning?” she asked.
“I was about to text her, why? Is this going to be an everyday thing?” Walking into my office, I ground my teeth as my phone continued to vibrate in my pocket. “To what do I owe the nuisance?”
Malda nodded her business-slash-professional attire seemingly out of place at university. “Yesterday, you said you’d go after Vyachaslav’s daughters if you did have a slimy motive, and one happens to text you the moment I leave. Why did you agree to that?”
My heart nearly stopped at that casual admittance, and my eyes narrowed on Malda. “I assume that whatever you did to my phone lets you record conversations… So you know that she talked at me.” She must’ve cloned my phone yesterday while we were talking. Reaching to scratch my beard, I sat on the edge of my desk to cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not in a position to deny anything creepy, uncertain, or vague. Oppie’s more than capable of handling herself, but any help I can give her is more than she’s got.”
“You expect me to believe your phone has been going on with variations of ‘oh my god’ with every different kind of shock emoji for the past hour as a sign she can handle herself?” Malda glared at me. “The only thing it proves is she’s smart enough not to disclose details via text. I’m not saying you’re not just the good guy into chicks half your age that you claim to be, Sascha…. It’s just that I don’t believe you.”
Rolling my jaw, I only bopped my head at this, since I’d have to figure out this phone situation now. “Four years… it’ll take you about that long to figure out I’m not lying.”
She frowned at the idea of spending that long tailing me, but it served her right.
I shook my head. “Do you know why I put up with knowing all the things I shouldn’t know about, Malda? Why I put up with you, and Aleksander, and Vyachaslav…all of it? Because Ophelia is a wonderful, beautiful woman, and I was born 15 years too early. Everything goes on around her, she’s the calm eye in a raging hurricane.”
“Very philosophical way to put it.” Malda sounded very unimpressed.
It was what I truly thought. If only my brother and I had been born opposite, the age difference between Ophelia and I wouldn’t matter.
“Sascha. You haven’t given me anything to doubt how much you care purely for Ophelia, and that’s the problem. You have a perfect relationship and that is troubling.”
“We’re too good for each other, is what you’re saying?” Covering my mouth to hide my smirk, I couldn’t hide the scoff escaping from my nose. “There’s got to be something wrong with us, and you’ve been sent because Vyachaslav can’t find it otherwise. I’m not going to air our dirty laundry to you.”
“But you do have any dirty laundry?” She leaned on her forearms on the back of her chair.
The silence stretched as my phone buzzed in my pocket to reverberate through the room.
“I guess that’ll have to be good enough for now. So, does Ophelia know about Kiri offering you sex?”
“She did?” My confusion almost choked me. I stood up as the hairs on the back of my neck bristled. In a flash, my mind raced through my 20 minute conversation with Kiri Makovich. “At no point did she bring that up.”
“Dude…she asked you if you know the nearest hotel to Red Square.”
I held my hands palm up in question, shaking my head slightly. My confusion only doubled at the look Malda sent me… like I was stupid and cute at the same time.
“Oh, my God. Sascha…you poor bastard.”
“What?”
Malda laughed at me, throwing her head back.
Frowning darkly, an ugliness filled my chest as my memories focused on her amusement. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I sighed heavily.
Malda dissolved into hysterical giggles.
I shrugged. “She said she was uncomfortable with cabs. I don’t get why that’s funny. Thousands of women are assaulted by—”
“No, no and no, Sascha…” Shaking her head viciously, Malda gripped the back of the chair to suck in a whistle of a breath. “If you gave her directions, she would’ve asked you to walk her there, then help her find a room— then try to jump you. Are you that oblivious? You said it yourself… they’re sluts. If Kiri Makovich thought for one second that screwing you would get her out of whatever Aleksander has planned, she’d try to seduce you in a heartbeat. And she’s fucking rich too, she has a car of her own, a driver and her own security. There’d be no reason to take a cab, she more than likely had a car idling somewhere for her.”
“What do I have to do with the overhaul? He didn’t even know I existed until I became a secondary player w
hen Ophelia called me because she thought she was going to die.” My lip twitched up under furrowed brows.
The humor danced off Malda’s face. “The question becomes… how did Kiri know about you? Aleksander didn’t take any interest in you. Kiri hasn’t talked to Vyachaslav since her obligatory ‘Happy Birthday’ weeks ago, and you happen to be in a relationship with someone exactly the same age as her. Either, she’s scoping out her options on marrying the elderly, or she approached you for a reason only she knows.”
Rubbing my face in frustration, I shook my head at all those damned unknowns.
Rounding the chair to sit in it, Malda crossed her knees and pursed her lips thinly. “Do you have any prevailing theories, Professor?”
“Okay, number one…don’t call me ‘elderly’ until after I turn 40 alright? Secondly, Vyachaslav can’t figure out what the hell his own kid is up to?” Glancing at my watch, I shook my head with a frustrated sigh. “I’m sure you’ll have an epiphany by the end of my next lecture.”
“Don’t put this all on me…you’re the one Kiri’s after, Sascha. It’s only fair that we both try to figure this out. I’m sure I can think of something while sitting through your incredibly boring lecture. Now, text your girlfriend back before she thinks you’re not just gullible for an old man.” Malda settled into the chair.
I flopped my head back to inhale a deep breath. Fishing my phone out of my pocket, the device felt heavy in my palm. Just as Malda said, all of Ophelia’s incoming texts were ‘Oh my god’ in some way.
Whatever she found, I’ll have to make sure we’re not in earshot of my phone. Thinking of the consequences of everything on my phone no longer being private made me hesitate. Anything I texted, said, looked up— it was all there for Malda to sneer at.
‘Sascha: They bugged my phone. Or your phone. Or both. We’ll talk when we get home.’
Malda stood up, adjusting her skirt as I made my way out of my office. “Write a list. Ophelia knows the Makovich’s better than me, but not as good as you. Obviously, she’d have better ideas, being a little more objective.”
Slipping my phone back in my pocket, I nodded curtly. Pausing with my hand on the knob, I glanced back through narrowed eyes. “Did you have any other revelations about my conversation with Kiri that you think I should know about?”
“Aside from the fact that you didn’t tell Oppie you got a hookup offer because you didn’t realize it? Nah, I think you need to have the next revelation on your own.”
Lingering frustration flared as I pushed open the door rather than let her see it. What the Hell else am I missing because I’m ignorant?
Malda laughed, said it was so obvious… in a way, she was right.
I loved Ophelia, so other women’s flirting just went over my head.
Even before I loved her, I was bad at recognizing that kind of thing. Ophelia just made it a weak skill I no longer needed.
9
Ophelia
“Hold it like this.”
My eyelids fluttered closed as I held a kid sized fishing pole, complete with magnetic end. Smiling faintly, I sat on my old bed, in my old room, where nothing had changed since long before I’d moved out. The only reason I had this fishing pole was because I lied…partially, at least. It had been a souvenir from Vladivostok. The festival was amazing, and I’d wanted to remember those 12 days.
True… those things were true. I’d go back if I could. That week and a half had been one of the best times of my life.
But not because of my friends. Not because of the experience. Not the coverup I’d created when I broke up with all those friends for threatening to tell my parents about what I was really doing. They were worried, thinking Sascha was a predator or something.
They were right to be worried, but wrong about what to be worried over. I never thought things would get as serious as they were now. I never wanted things to get this serious…me, telling Sascha everything concerning something he should know nothing about. Me, asking his opinion on those forbidden things. Me, only making silly science sex puns because I didn’t know jack shit about nuclear science.
It seemed like such a one-sided, intellectual, relationship sometimes. The 18 years between us were telling.
“You need another minute to process the fact that you’re going to die?”
Lyov’s rasp forced me out of my contemplating, much to my annoyance. I’d rather do almost anything than listen to him. Cracking my eyes open, I frowned as he stepped into the room to glance around.
“Was this your room? The maids didn’t get to it?”
“No…they did. They just didn’t make a mess because they liked me.” Throwing my thumb over my shoulder, a small smirk crested my lips. “The closet’s empty. So are my jewelry boxes. I’m not a liar like my sisters…I had real gems.”
“What’s with the pole? You go fishing on your first date or something?”
Lyov had avoided me as I made discovery after gruesome, stupid discovery. Curiosity flooded my veins as he sauntered into the room.
Taking his hands out of his pockets, he sat next to me, clenching his hands into tight fists between his knees. “I feel bad for people like you, you know.”
“Are you just not gonna say why or leave me wondering?” Was Lyov just incapable of finishing attempting to get a thought out of his mouth? Shooting him a bland look, I set my little fishing pole on my other side to sigh. “Look Lyov, I don’t care what you think about people like me. You can screw off with your faux superiority, okay? I get it…you killed your mom by being born. You’re the baby of the family. You aren’t Aleksander, so obviously you’re no one at all. Boo-fucking-hoo. You’re not the only one that came squawking out and your mom left…in fact, you should consider yourself lucky it wasn’t her choice.” I hate myself. Okay…I hated myself for being able to say these things so coldly, not because I was saying them to Lyov in particular. He was a little boy with a golden spoon up his ass and fabricated reasons to jam it deeper.
The more I spoke, the more tense he became next to me. The hotter the heat roiling off him.
Rubbing my palms against my jeans, I stood up to turn to him fully.
Lyov was pissed, his face pinched and the vein in his forehead bulging. His nicely styled hair bristled.
Frowning in disdain, my eyelid twitched at how his face reflected my own feelings at myself. “You do this shit on purpose and want people to feel bad for you, but everyone, eventually, will see you as the piece of shit you are. You shouldn’t feel bad for me, you should feel bad for yourself. I certainly do. If you’re so miserable, follow the precious object of your misgivings into the afterlife or change. Those are you only two options.” Reaching to grab my fishing pole, I left my childhood bedroom to head back to my father’s office.
Lyov didn’t storm after me. I made it a few steps into the hall before heaving a massive but quiet sigh. In my hands, my fishing pole seemed so small, a light green color that distracted me from the darkness around me. “Today needs to be over.”
My cell phone vibrated in my back pocket, sending tingles down my leg. Gnawing on my bottom lip, I swiped back my hair and straightened my shoulders. The time it flashed above Sascha’s name and I read 6pm on the dot. I cleared my throat roughly. “Hey— how’s your day going?” Holding my phone to my ear with my shoulder, I swung my fishing pole leisurely. “Guess what I found in my old room?”
“I don’t know, but I’m leaving campus right now. Do you want me to come pick you up? You stopped ‘oh my god’ing’ a few hours ago, so I was worried.”
Sascha was so sweet, and a genuine smile crested my cheeks. Warmth suffused my chest. I hummed in agreement.
He continued, “Remember when I said yesterday that I met with Kiri?”
“Oh…yeah. I’m not concerned about that or anything. I just thought it was weird because she seemed so quiet every time I saw her. Why? Did she show up to one of your classes?” I kicked open the office door as an uncomfortable silence stretched over the phone.
“Sascha? Hello?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. That woman, Malda, whose apparently got a daily appointment to pick my brain, said that Kiri Makovich was trying to flirt with me. It just made me wonder…” He trailed off, and
I frowned under tightly knit brows.
“Why would I interest her enough that she’d seek me out, let alone try to flirt with me?”
“Umm…I don’t know, but you should ask her the next time you see her. I doubt you’ll get a straight answer, though. No one in this family seems to be what they appear to be. Do you need directions to the mansion? I’ll text you the address. If you want, you can use my card that I snuck in your wallet last night and get a really nice, fancy dinner and some wine?” Smiling broadly at the very idea of it, I bopped my head side to side as I took my phone in my hand. “Also, to answer my own question, I found the fishing rod in my old room.”
“You haven’t set up a date yet with the construction company to tear down your parent’s house, right? And everything still works?”
Again, I bopped my head.
Sascha grumbled thoughtfully into my ear, “Wanna stay a few days? It’s where you grew up… you don’t really talk about it.”
“Oh, yeah sure. We can do that.” Discomfort slithered between my ribs and sent a shiver to lodge between my shoulder blades. Glancing around warily, I licked my lips heavily. “If we’re going down that road, better we just raid my parent’s liquor cellar, then.”
“Oppie, I’m sorry. Knowing someone’s listening to this makes me—“
The office door slammed open, and I jumped as my gasp cut Sascha off. Not bothering to say ‘goodbye’ I hung up my call and set my phone on the desk.
Lyov practically snarled at me, his straight, white teeth flashing. His lip curled nastily.
I held my breath as my heart leapt into my throat.
“I’m not taking shit from you just because you’re a girl.”
