by Raven Scott
“Because I was the one who told them it was a good idea and set it all up for them. “You’d know that if you took a moment to realize that pawns are the most important pieces in the beginning of the game….you can’t move anything else until you move them.”
The nonchalance with which Ophelia revealed that tidbit of critical information caused pride to bubble up in my chest like a thick, black tar.
Aleksander’s expression closed like a brick wall and he reached to cover his frown with the back of his hand.
16
Ophelia
We were put into an office, so I could further my investigation into the plot.
Scratching my scalp absently, I slumped back in my chair to frown at all the lunacy spread out before me. Erik and Rucca weren’t dumb enough to put their plans on paper, but I still had a pretty good picture of what was happening. With her dead, it only stood to reason her idea was the one used in the actual attempt on the Patriarch’s life. The second she found out it’d failed, Rucca killed herself rather than let Aleksander do whatever he wanted with her.
But Rucca was a romantic and anything she came up with would have to be tempered down quite a lot. Clearly, her father knew something was going on by his emails, but he wasn’t involved. Which meant…
The only viable option to who had started all of this was Erik Avernisk. He’d also know that I’d snitch without hesitation, so he’d kept me out of it as desperately as he could.
He’d been holding out while being tortured on the assumption that if he reinforced his innocence, it would eventually pay out and he’d be released. Aleksi would break easily, and Erik knew this. The poor kid just turned 18 and was being introduced to the Suvensk business. If he thought he’d unwittingly done something he wasn’t supposed to, he’d cop to everything that ultimately happened.
“Aleksander was right about who, at least generally…” My murmur was loud in this small, grey office as I rubbed my palms up along my face with a sigh.
The door cracked open, revealing a slightly familiar face crested in a small smile.
“What?” I asked.
“Nothing. I was just coming to talk to you.”
I had to reach far back into my memory— far, far back for just a few days, to figure out her name. Envre. She was Aleksander’s girlfriend, I thought. Sitting up straight, I propped my elbows on the desk to pinch the bridge of my nose.
“Is this a bad time?” she asked.
“… I psyched myself out about Aleksander. That was my first time meeting him in person— the day he killed my parents and my brother. I misjudged him.” My admission was all I felt comfortable revealing.
Envre giggled knowingly. Wandering into the office, she plopped down to rub her legs, her knees clinging together.
I went on, “He hated us, thought we were rodents, and I guess he was right, in a way… I never expected him to need me to fix his mess.”
“I actually didn’t know you guys existed until a week ago, either.” Envre shrugged. “I always thought Aleksander’s socialist bullcrap was it. Finding out all those American movies had truth in them was… well, it was strange. Aleksander doesn’t think some things are important when they really are.”
Arching a brow quizzically, I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth…My mind churning.
Envre sat back, a small frown gracing her lips. “Like with Levrenti, for instance.”
“I honestly thought that was staged. So, what do you think is important that you came to me?”
She laughed a little, tucking her hair back behind her ear with a little shrug. “Have you seen the video, yet? … I think Vyachaslav’s bodyguard slash double was in on it. I like the old man and I know he likes me.””
Shaking my head, my brows drew knitted together. I was saving the video for last, once I had a clear picture to tie into it. “Okay, let’s watch it.” Mousing around the computer screen, I wiggled my lips thoughtfully. “If he was in on it, that’d make sense. Erik can’t get information on Vyachaslav otherwise without being caught. The old man started shifting the business on Aleksander, making himself scarce in the process. That’s something I wondered about too…why was the shot so bad? If you’re going to try to kill someone like him, you’d need to make sure it’s fatal, even if not immediately. Of course, that guy isn’t the only one I was considering.”
“Who else do you think would do this?” Envre asked.
I ignored her for a moment to open the video file, leaning in close to the screen. Vyachaslav wasn’t within two feet at least, of his bodyguard, which was concerning. Not only were they on the sidewalk, but the bodyguard just… fell. The guy just dropped while Vyachaslav himself ducked behind a car. This forced Vyachaslav to reach to grab his man, but this perfect headshot was a missed opportunity. There wasn’t a second attempt.
Either the sniper rushed out assuming he’d killed Vyachaslav, or just didn’t care because that wasn’t the objective. Because it’s entirely likely that Vyachaslav himself is involved in his own assassination attempt.
“Honestly, I don’t know enough right now to send Aleksander running around like a chicken with his head cut off.” I shrugged. That’s not something I want floating around. After all, why would Vyachaslav send Malda after Sascha and I unless he knew I would suspect him? “What I will say is that Erik’s not capable of shooting not only a moving target, but anything more than 30 feet away. His embarrassment about being such a shit shot is why he fails less miserably at krav maga.What about Aleksi?” I suggested. “If Erik is behind it, I get needing a fall guy, but… According to Aleksander, Erik isn’t trying to implicate Aleksi.” Glancing at Envre over the edge of the screen, I cocked my head at that. Why…?
“Because implicating Aleksi means he’d have a reason to. You’re really new to this, aren’t you?” She flushed faintly.
I frowned under furrowed brows. I hadn’t thought this muck, this clearly, in… well, ever. “Okay, so the last thing you want to do when being tortured is to say ‘hey, go ask that guy— he knows’ because then you imply that you know what he knows. If you’re going to say anything, make sure it’s benign, but even then… you really shouldn’t ever talk. Once you open your mouth, you lose.”
“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.”
Meeting 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.”
