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

by Raven Scott

  “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 when 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 h
otter 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.”

  My brows rose, a harsh bark of laughter squeezing from between my clenched teeth. Tapping the speed dial button just to be safe, I tightened my grip on my fishing pole. Anxiety gushed through my veins, replacing my blood.

  Lyov then stormed across the office. He exuded rage and hurt, his eyes bulging from the stuff that leaked from his ears.

  “If you don’t want to be babied, don’t act like a baby. I’m not here to coddle you or be your friend. You’re here to do a job, Lyov. If you can’t even monitor me while I uncover my family’s gnarly secrets because you’re too busy crying over what I said, go back to Saint Petersburg.” Honestly, I didn’t know if Aleksander would bother picking up the phone. I could hope, though. If Lyov did anything to me, Aleksander would really have to replace me; it wasn’t something he particularly wanted to do. Definitely, keeping me was the easier option.

  Standing chest to chest with me, Lyov practically breathed fire through his nose. His clenched teeth ground loudly enough that I heard it clearly. There was no denying he was upset, but it was why that was so incredibly unbelievable. Not only did Lyov get angry about being called out, but he just ignored his whole part in the ordeal.

  As if he hadn’t walked my chair away from me.

  As if he didn’t insult me first.

  “Unless you want to get slapped, back away from me, Lyov Makovich.”

  His pupils became almost nonexistent, as Lyov finally seemed to reach his breaking point. His arm that trembled so violently lifted out of the corner of my eye.

  My heart nearly stopped. The tension thickening to the point that it filled my lungs.

  In slow motion, he reared back his arm.

  Now, the fine hairs on my face stood up.

  So faintly, the click of a gun being cocked, cut through the atmosphere.

  Lyov froze, his face going pale with shock.

  My lips parted in surprise.

  “Ophelia Cherinivsky is right. You’re done here, Lyov. Go back to Saint Petersburg, you incompetent fucking dog.” The feminine voice wrapped around us thickly.

  Very, very slowly, Lyov lowered his arm, all the emotion training from his expression…his body deflating to give way to its owner.

  She was pretty, with just enough makeup and a fair face.

  Lyov sluggishly shuffled away, more pitiful than he was before.

  A pang struck my chest, and I winced before the metallic glint of a gun got my attention.

  “Nice to finally meet you, Ophelia. I’m Malda and it’s a damned good thing I bugged your phone, and that I was already on my way.”

  10

  Ophelia

  Malda then shrugged. “I’m not staying. I’m here to document what you’ve discovered about the plot to kill the Patriarch? I never understood why we’re supposed to call him that…he’s just a withered, old man now. Rumor is that he was once more intimidating than Aleksander, but I don’t know if that’s possible.”

  “Thank you and all, but I almost wished he’d hit me so I had a reason to hit back. My dad always said you have to be stupid to hit first without intending to knock out.” Inhaling deeply through flared nostrils, I finally moved from my spot. Every hair on my body stood up, my knees wobbling as they carried me to a small sofa against the wall. “So, why were you coming here in the first place?”

  If Malda thought less of me, it didn’t show on her face. “Lyov can’t do something as simple as a check in, so I was sent to find out what’s up. You’ve been here all day, right? I assume you found some juicy stuff you want to gossip about?”

  A slight smirk stretched my lips at this as I nodded firmly.

  She smiled. “Wanna get a head start on that bottle stashed in here somewhere?”

  “The bookshelf.” Pointing absently across the office, I covered my face with my hands and flopped back to groan loudly. “I’m tired of this day. I’m tired of the drama. My head hurts…wah, wah, wah.”

  “I know Sascha told you about me. I just wanna say that I don’t listen to anything unless you make a call or are in a curious situation. I’m not creeping on you two or anything. Honestly, I’m jea
lous of you.”

  My head snapped up at this.

  Malda was glancing at me over her shoulder. “Don’t tell anyone. I’m supposed to be a professional.”

  “Why would you be jealous? Truly, it sucks, dragging Sascha into this drama. I feel so guilty all the time,” grumbling the confession, I pulled my knees to my chest to close my eyes.

  Malda made a noise of acknowledgment as she hunted through my dad’s bookshelf.

  I shook my head. “Is Lyov like that all the time? I know I was a little harsh on purpose, but…”

  “Yeah. I jumped at the chance to follow your boyfriend around just to get away from him. Usually, I’m Lyov’s bodyguard. I think I’m much more suited to recon, though.” Interest sparked in my brain.

  Malda gave a faint ‘hah’ before whipping around. The quarter—empty bottle of whiskey in her hand sloshed faintly, the amber liquid mesmerizing. Practically sashaying over to me. “So, why’d Lyov tell you that you were gonna die? Or was he just being an annoying idiot?”

  Damn, she seemed so nice, personable and relatable, I got the nagging feeling we could be friends if I ever made the mistake of trusting her. “Apparently, there was a whole plan to kill off all the Makovich’s. It read like the plot to a bad thriller, to be honest. I printed it out.” Pointing at the desk, I took the bottle she offered, but sourness coated my tongue. Whiskey…I really didn’t like the stuff. Malda just offered, and I accepted because… I didn’t know why, really. Laying down on my side, I set the bottle on the floor. “It looks like my mom and brother were in charge of all the planning. Which explains why their whole plan is laid out in bullet points.”

  She shot me a perfectly manicured, arched brow. “I-I— are you serious? She put it in writing?” Malda crossed the short distance to snatch up all the papers I’d printed, a hard, disbelieving laugh filling the room. Leafing through, her bemused expression grew more exaggerated.