by Raven Scott
“That’s very generous. Why indulge her at all?” Malda asked. “She’s only a few years older than you, and she was having an affair with your dad.”
Shrugging lightly as I grabbed a package of ground beef, I checked the date absently as my mind whirred.
“What about his other mistresses?” Malda suggested.
“She seemed like the most rational, so I decided to deal with her first. I honestly think she’s genuinely upset that my dad’s dead. I think she really liked him, even if she didn’t love him. I’m doing it because I just want her to go away and it’s honestly, not a lot of money. $3million Rubles should be on the higher end.” The problem was that even though this woman seemed to be my father’s favorite, she wasn’t the only one. His emails kept piling up…why did he suddenly stop correspondence? Was everything okay? Then, it all turned into anger at being ignored. “I sent out a mass email to the five of them explaining that he’d died suddenly, that I would appreciate it if they would just move on with their lives. This woman, Gigi was the only one who wanted to meet in person immediately.”
Malda cocked her head at me. “If she’s so rational, don’t you think it’s suspicious if your dad convinced her he was in love with her?”
Shaking my head, I set the package of meat on the counter as I pondered this notion. I didn’t care for this situation at all, but I had to deal with it. If I could make these women go away… good. I didn’t want to destroy them financially and emotionally because of my father’s empty promises. Ducking under the island to grab a cast iron pan, my lips twisted in a scowl before parting. “I guess there’s really no way to know for sure until I meet her. Speaking of suspicious… why are you here? Was Sascha too swamped or something to talk to you?” When I straightened, Malda was nodding, and my frown smoothened some. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I dropped by the University, but he was preparing for a lecture and I hate being there, anyway. I didn’t try too hard. I came by because I have an invitation for you from the Patriarch.”
Pausing at this, I clenched my jaw hard.
Malda leaned on her elbows on the island. “Makovich has been invited to America by Carlyle Santino, the leader of the Syndicate.”
Blinking hard, I sucked in a sharp breath as my heart leapt into my throat.
Malda cocked her head again.
The silence pooled in my gut in the form of dread. I didn’t fucking want to go to America under pressure! Especially with Aleksander or Vyachaslav, or anyone else who wasn’t Sascha. His brother lives in America, though… “I can’t say ‘no’, can I?”
Her dark eyes narrowed before Malda shook her head slightly.
A deep sigh issued from my lips. “Why?”
“You’re a fixer, Ophelia. You have to fix this rift between Santino and Makovich. We need to get back into the States and Nikayev’s attempts to negotiate with Carlyle hasn’t gone well. If you succeed, you’ll save Aleksi and Erik’s lives and make us a lot of money. Not to mention you’ll get to wag your tongue in Aleksander’s face some more.”
“… The Patriarch wants me to fix our relationship with Santino when I haven’t fixed the problems created by the attempt on his life?” Scrunching up my nose at my own question, I turned to the stove as my thoughts rushed behind my eyes.
Malda simply waited for me to work through this problem.
I braced against the oven door railing. “If he wants me to stop digging, I’ll stop. I don’t like not having answers, but if whatever I find puts me at such risk, I can deal with it. I figured that if Vyachaslav really did orchestrate his fake murder attempt, he’s not making this up as he goes along.”
“What is it you think is going on, Ophelia?”
Why is everything changing so suddenly? Closing my eyes to focus, I tugged my lower lip between my teeth. My parents and brother had been dead two weeks; every secret they’d ever had was coming to light. I’d gotten the best of Aleksander and I knew he hated that I did. I just didn’t want to be afraid of him the way I felt when we first met in person. I’d basically achieved that. “I think Vyachaslav planted the idea of assassinating himself to the families so Aleksander’s streamlining of the business would be easier. I think he’s pretending to be disappointed even though everything happened exactly how he thought it would. I think… he and Aleksander are fooling everyone and I was the one who didn’t react as expected, which is why Vyachaslav is doing damage control.” Tilting my head back to watch Malda through narrowed eyes, I licked my lips heavily. “Aleksander wasn’t hastily emotional when he did what he did. The only thing that didn’t go as planned… I was better at my job than they’d anticipated.”
“… You think very highly of yourself, Ophelia, and with good reason. You’re exactly right. You are truly formidable.”
I took this as a threat, not a compliment.
Malda ducked her head in a nod. “How long did it take you to figure out that Aleksander was fooling everyone?”
“When I went to Saint Petersburg to see Aleksander and Levrenti fight, Levrenti was genuinely upset… Aleksander was almost haughty. At least, if he tried to hide it, it would’ve been more convincing.” I turned to Malda as she stifled a laugh, but my lips dragged down in a frown. “I’m separating my home and work life, Malda, and I would appreciate it if you’d respect that.”
“I apologize. I was under the impression you and Sascha share thoughts in real time.”
Exhaling through flared nostrils, I had nothing to say. This mess with Aleksander. It interfered with my life with Sascha, and I couldn’t let it happen again. I’d actually, actively tried to push him away— to get him to break up with me.
And for what? A game. To Aleksander, everything and everyone was a game he could master. Clenching and releasing my jaw, I turned back to the stove to flick on a burner, covering the flame with the pan. “Aleksander is replacing every important position with his siblings to create a monopoly. If he doesn’t want me involved in that, I’ll back off. But… what happened can never happen again. I won’t let him control my personal life. That goes for Vyachaslav as well. I’ve served Makovich for 6 years, and I’ve served them well. My family was obliterated by them. I foster business with Ukraine for them. I will fix whatever they want me to fix, Malda… but when I’m home, I am home. Believe it or not, Sascha and I don’t tell each other every, single, little thing.”
“I do believe that. I also believe firmly that you make Aleksander look bad because you’re too good.”
My heart stuttered at this— so, that’s why she’s here. Makovich wants me out of the way because I embarrassed them. Lyov— Aleksander— Vyachaslav… there was a reason that fixers like me were restrained on such a tight leash.
Malda sighed heavily. “I’m here as your friend, Ophelia. You’re going to have the chance to leave, and if you value your personal life so much, I think you should consider it. Eventually, everything you know will catch up to you.”
“Right now, I’m going to settle my family’s affairs…the literal and the figurative ones. I have someone coming to pick up the cars in a few hours. Sascha and I are looking at our options for this house. We haven’t made any decisions about our future, yet. I’m not in a position to clearly consider anything the Patriarch offers me.” Snatching the meat off the counter, I ripped open the plastic with a sharp pop.
Malda remained quiet at my declaration.
All the while, my mind was in a fury. Why is this coming up now? What’s Aleksander’s plan, and where did I fit in it? What does Vyachaslav know that he is so afraid of that he’d offer me a secure out?
Most importantly… going to America was a convenient excuse to cover up the fact that Aleksander or Vyachaslav ‒ or both of them, together ‒ were planning something here in Russia that I couldn’t be privy to.
“When Aleksander runs for his first political office…” The tension in the air thickened, my voice knifing through it as I glanced over my shoulder. “I’ll probably vote for him. That’
s not for another year or two, at the earliest. So, whatever he has planned has nothing to do with me, yet. The secrets he hides… I’ll stay away. I’ll shut down my investigation and go back to simply being our diplomat to Ukraine. But only if he does something for me in return.”
“What do you want?” Malda ground the question through her teeth.
Now I knew I’d hit the nail on the head. Aleksander was running for Prime Minister, eventually. “If I manage to fix the relationship between us and Santino… Erik is the one that goes to America, not me. Russia… Moscow is my home. I’m not leaving it.”
24
Ophelia
“Who the Hell are you?” Even as I posed the question, I knew the answer.
The woman on my doorstep was noticeably pregnant. Her long, dyed blonde hair swished over her shoulder when she jerked her head, her eyes big and wide. Licking her lips, she seemed to have the intentional unintentional sensuality down packed. “You’re Martin’s sister, right? They told me h-he…”
Arching a brow when she trailed off, I cocked my head. Irritation simmered in my veins; I was in the middle of consoling my dad’s poor mistress and trying to convince her to take a check. That’s right… either she’s the best actress in the world, or she’s genuinely upset as well as stupid.
“Umm, can we talk?”
The inquiry brought my mind back to the woman standing in front of me, and disdain tingled down my spine. She hadn’t even told me her name and my gut didn’t like her. “Does this act really work on people?” Summoning all my knowledge of all that I’d read in not only my father’s emails, but my brother’s as well, my brows drew tight.
She paused— or more like froze.
I leaned on the doorframe to cross my arms over my chest. “Why would I be stupid enough to talk when you intentionally got pregnant? I mean, I get it. Martin was rich and pretty stupid, and almost every outcome was a win-win for you. That’s the key word, though… was. He’s dead. I am not going to do jack shit for you or that manipulation tool in your belly.”
“He’s the one tha—”
Holding up my palm to quiet her, I ground my teeth. Unless Martin raped her, she was complacent in getting pregnant, too. She couldn’t shift all the blame onto him; there wasn’t much of a way to play victim now, since he was dead. “I don’t care. Goodbye.” She didn’t even introduce herself. Jesus— what was wrong with people? Shutting the door on her, I frowned at the pristine tile directly under my feet. A few years down the line, and she could’ve easily portrayed Martin as a deadbeat father; he left her after promising he’d support her! What about her baby? Clothes, food and school, oh my!
Running my hands up along my cheeks and combing my hair back, I took a stabilizing breath. Making my way back to the kitchen, my mind turned to the woman whose name I did know.
Gregoria, an American in Russia for her job, who began an affair with my father about four months ago. She was young, but so vibrant and upbeat that it hurt my eyes to look at her. Entering the kitchen, even with the lights on, Gigi was the brightest thing in the room.
“I apologize…“ My English sucked, but I was better at English than Gigi was at Russian.
Smiling at me, the shadows played in her green eyes.
I’d bet this was as close to death as she’d ever come. “I don’t know what I can do. Throwing money at people is kind of my… best skill.”
“I don’t want your money, Ophelia.”
The way she talked grated my ears, but I managed to keep a straight face as I leaned on my elbows on the island.
“I just wanted to meet you. I’m going back home in a few weeks, and I doubt I can spend $3million Rubles that fast.”
“From your emails, I thought you lived here. I didn’t know my dad meant to pay for your apartment until you come back from the States.”
She smiled slightly, a sad sigh escaping her slightly parted lips.
“What was my dad like with you?”
“He was a very tired man… tired and run down. It’s not surprising to me that he had a heart attack.”
Her smile saddened more and my heart twisted for her; even if they weren’t strong, Gigi’s feelings for my dad were very much real. This is fucked up. She’s my dad’s mistress.
She went on, “I think he liked being with me because I never expected anything from him. If he wanted to talk, I’d listen and give my input, but if not, that was okay, too. I think he just needed someone to listen and sympathize with him without being judgmental.”
“Did he ever talk about me?” Interest colored my tone.
Gigi shook her head slightly and sipping her coffee briefly, she hummed a sound that tickled my ears. “He mostly talked about his life— how his own father basically sold him to another family, and that family eventually forced him to marry your mother. It was a lot of stuff about his childhood and teenage years. If we had time, I’m sure I would’ve eventually gotten the whole story, but… I’d never use this information and it makes me very sad how far cruelty reaches.”
“I’m not paying you off, not that way, Gigi.”
A hard knock echoed from the front of the house, and I pursed my lips thinly as my brow twitched in irritation.
Gigi set her mug down, gathering up her purse with another slight shake of her head. “I’m sorry. I want to keep talking to you, but…All the crazies come out when someone dies. Especially when money is involved. I’ve heard stories.” Rounding the edge of the island, Gigi held my hands in delicate fingers. Her smile was warm, soft and gentle along with an emotional smile. “Thank you for reaching out to me, Ophelia.”
“Thank you for not being one of the crazies.” My tongue hurt from speaking nothing but English. Squeezing Gigi’s hands, I let them go to head for the door. She was quiet as we walked to the door, the banging getting louder and more abrasive. Throwing open the solid wooden barrier, I scowled darkly. “What about ‘I don’t care’ do you not understand!” I got nasty with the woman Martin left behind.
She jumped back with a shocked squeak.
Advancing on her, forcing her backwards down the stairs, I exhaled fire through my nose. Anger swirled in my chest because— well, because she was still fucking here!
Finally, this pregnant woman panicked. She stumbled a little as she rushed down the steps, away from me. Holding her belly protectively, she shot me the nastiest look. Pure hatred blazed from her eyes, and
I hoped she’d just crawl back into the hole she’d come out of. “What did you honestly hope to achieve by coming here?” To say I was curious wasn’t right, but I wanted to know.
The nameless woman tensed at my question, her expression twisting darker.
“Martin is dead. You came here and didn’t even introduce yourself when I opened the door, and from what I know of you, you’re a bitch. Martin was prepared to run away to Germany to get away from you, and you think that now… when he’s not here to refute anything you say, that I’ll just take your word for it? No.” My voice hung heavy in the atmosphere.
“That ass owes me! You think I like being like this— pregnant? My parents kicked me out! I’m going to get fired from my job!”
I could feel Gigi’s questioning gaze flicker between us, but I ignored it as I exhaled a hot breath.
The woman whose name I still didn’t know huffed hard, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her nose in the air. “The least you could do is pay me to go away. I can ruin your life.”
“What!” A bark of disgust burst from my throat, my hand flying to cover my mouth as it curved widely. I couldn’t help myself, my shoulders shivering with repressed amusement. Gulping harshly, I inhaled a deep breath and held it. “You can ruin my life? Oh, the horror! I’m so scared!” Cackling horrendously at the absurdity of that declaration, I threw my head back and hugged my sides. My heart raced, true mirth slathering my ribs as they creaked. Even my cheeks hurt from my smile. Suddenly, it all stopped, and I grabbed Gigi’s hand with a vicious shake of my head. As I promised
, I led Gigi to her car with one eye on Martin’s crazy, nameless ex-girlfriend. My brain just stopped working. I pinched the bridge of my nose as I stepped back from the car.
Gigi had been driven here, so there was no hesitation as the car rolled around the fountain.
Watching her go, I hoped somewhere foolishly that Gigi stayed well.
“I need a nap.” Inhaling deeply, I closed my eyes briefly before they found the other shivering body in the driveway.
She trembled and huffed, her eyes red and puffy but very much shimmering in embarrassment.
I wonder what else I’m going to uncover if I keep digging. “Go ahead and try— try to ‘ruin’ my life… see what I can do to you if you provoke me.”
The woman paled but somehow managed not to cower before I turned my back on her. Wandering back into my house, I reached to rub my scalp and grumbled to myself. Martin’s mistakes aside ‒ Gigi farthest from my thoughts ‒ my mind centered on the broad picture.
Vyachaslav… the Santino brothers… the family’s destruction… what did it all mean? Did I want to find out?
25
Ophelia
“Yeah— he visited me in person.” Sasha nodded. “Basically, he told me to convince you to back off because you make Aleksander look like he’s got no control over anything.”
Rubbing my face with both my palms, I groaned gutturally.
“What’d Malda say?” Sasha asked.
“Who cares about her? I’m more concerned about what to do next now that I know why this all happened. Vyachaslav didn’t just decide to invite me to a Santino function, and surely he didn’t decide to do so on the same day he told you that he wants me gone.” I tugged gently at my hair. “I can’t be that interesting or that much of a threat. Can I?”
