by Raven Scott
Yesterday at the construction firm, I could’ve done without Sascha’s and my conversation in the elevator… but it was in the past. I needed to focus on the present. I intended to live in the moment, try to be positive! Who knew, really, how long I would be on this Earth ‒ get to enjoy Sascha ‒ before Aleksander decided I was too much of a security risk?
Shivering as I cracked open my eyes, I sat on the sofa Sascha liked so much to caress the soft plush with trembling fingers. This piece of furniture was the only one going to storage; everything else was getting thrown out or donated. Whatever the maids had left wasn’t worth much, anyway.
But Sascha loved this sofa, and our house had a room specifically for it. The dark grey was stark against my pale skin, and I sniffed a little as pressure beat against the backs of my eyes.
The music suddenly cut out, but it took a few seconds for my brain to realize it was silence drumming in my ears. My vision moved slowly towards the entertainment system against the wall, packed neatly under the television. Jerking from the delayed shock, my shoulders curled as I caught sight of Malda, and I frowned nastily.
“Are you high, Ophelia?”
Amusement grated my brain and I flung myself back to roll onto my front. Frustration flooded my veins, forcing out the more pleasant feelings. Panting lightly, my heart beat hard and fast against ribs that struggled to release the tension buzzing between them.
“Ophelia—“
“I’m not high…” At least, I was pretty sure I didn’t slip myself something in my breakfast, or my coffee, or… Craning my neck to watch Malda wander towards me, my eyes rolled until I couldn’t follow her anymore. “What are you doing here? How come you just come into my house and never knock?”
“I’ve been instructed to bring you to Saint Petersburg, Ophelia.” Sitting gingerly next to me, Malda oozed discomfort— like she didn’t want to be the one doing this. “Aleksander Makovich has requested your presence to discuss your upcoming trip to America.”
…Fuck! “Sascha’s coming with me.”
My grumble earned me a slight shake of her head, and Malda frowned deeply.
Alarms went off in my head, my mouth drying with all the anxiety of going at this alone.
“We’re leaving, Ophelia— right now. I’m sorry, but if I don’t do my job as expected, I have to go back to dealing with Lyov. The plane takes off in 20 minutes.”
If it was time sensitive, why didn’t Aleksander come here and cut travel time in half? That was a stupid question. This was Aleksander, exerting himself on me— reminding me that I was a puppet, and it was his hand up my ass. “Yeah— I spent a total of 20 minutes with Lyov, soI don’t blame you.” Hoisting myself up onto my knees, I sat back on my heels to puff a sigh. “… Do you know what this is about?”
“No. I was just told to bring you to Saint Petersburg.”
I knew Sascha and I weren’t a package deal to Aleksander, but the anxiety gripping me in a vice strained my heart. Scooting off the sofa, I closed my eyes briefly and ducked my head. Goosebumps washed my bare arms and across my chest, my sweat freezing my skin.
Malda looked sympathetic. “You’ve got enough time to throw some clothes on.”
“Why bother? I’m gonna get fucked anyway.” My arms hung heavy by my sides as I stood up, and all my good feelings seeped through my feet. Flexing my toes against the cold that crept up and made them ache, my legs tingled wildly. “If I knew this was going to be what my life would be like, I would’ve fought harder to keep my idiot brother alive.”
“It wouldn’t have made a difference, Ophelia.”
All these ups and downs— ignoring the issues I was supposed to deal with was coming back to bite me in the ass. I knew that Aleksander was toying with me. He gave me an inch, then set me back a mile. This was his way of lording over me, reminding me I was never going to be truly happy. Those short moments were brief glimpses into a life I could never have. “Let’s go, I guess. I can’t imagine what Aleksander could possibly want. He won, he knows it. I know it. What’s the point in playing anymore?” I’d done exactly as Aleksander Makovich predicted. Even when I tried not to, I moved to the spot he wanted. I accepted that this was my lot in life, but the one thing he couldn’t control was my relationship with Sascha.
But he could end it. So easily, Makovich could rip Sascha from my life. I would kill myself if that happened.
Did Aleksander Makovich plan for that?
“It’s pouring out. Are you sure you don’t want some clothes?”
Blinking at this, I shook my head; whenever I talked about Aleksander with someone other than Sascha, something happened to me. I relied so much on him to stabilize me.
If only I were a dozen years older. If I couldn’t handle a meeting without him, I had a problem. Relationships required a sense of autonomy. After all, it wasn’t Sascha who negotiated with Ukraine’s Prime Minister. It wasn’t Sascha that dealt with unruliness and dissent with Makovich’s shadows. I couldn’t play this game better than Aleksander, but I had to play it better than I had been these past few weeks. “The rain will do me some good.”
My murmur earned me a face scrunched with dismay. Malda didn’t protest as I walked out of the living room, though.
“Hey… you’re my friend, right, Malda?” Pausing at the archway, I glanced over my shoulder under heavy lids.
“To an extent, yes. Why?” Watching me curiously, unfiltered wonder glimmering in her deep, brown eyes, Malda pursed her lips.
“I don’t know what this is about, but if Sascha tries to come after me… stop him. I need to handle Aleksander by myself.”
Her eyes narrowed into slits, and she nodded curtly.
With this assurance, my heart finally slowed. My lungs filled with fresh air instead of recycling shallow, hot huffs. Turning back to head down the hall, I left my ‘friend’ behind as I headed to her car.
True to her word, it was raining, but not very hard. The cool air welcomed me, enveloping me and dousing the furious flames licking my cheeks. Lifting my face to the dark clouds hanging low and thick overhead, I took as huge a breath as I could fit in my chest.
“Miss Cherinivsky…”
Frowning at the man waiting by the open car door, I tilted my head in question.
He blushed, lowering his hat and ducking his head.
At least I can get a tiny one up on Aleksander. He won’t expect me half naked. And to be honest, it was pretty nice to wear only underwear and a sports bra. I felt naked ‒ like there were no secrets about myself that he could hang over me. I felt confident ‒ because this is what he gets. There were no fancy clothes trying to cover up any uncertainties I had.
I should do this more often.
28
Sascha
I twirled my keys as I wandered in the general direction of my car, but my mind was flung far, somewhere else. The drizzling rain settled on my hair and beard, making everything smell and feel so fresh. Despite the gloom around me, I was in a good mood; in a few hours, between my last two classes, I’d be meeting with Marchik to discuss ‘retiring’.
My phone buzzed faintly in my jacket pocket, and I paused my walking to fish the device out. Shouldering my briefcase to cover the screen, my keys jangled and glinted tantalizingly. The number wasn’t one I recognized, but my thumb tingled as it dragged the ‘Answer’ button along the screen. “Hello? Sascha Matheson. Who is this?” The hairs on the back of my neck bristled lightly, but I ignored it to continue to my car.
“Aleksander Makovich.”
Damn— fuck— instantly, a scowl dragged down the corners of my mouth, and I covered it with my hand.
“It’s been a while, Sascha.”
His deep timbre rattled the bones in my face, rippling down my neck and through my beard. “What do you want? Why do you and your father play games with me when you’re trying to get Ophelia’s attention?” My voice roughened in exasperation. “Honestly, the best way to get a girl’s attention is to talk to her directly, not plow thr
ough everyone she knows trying to figure out what she likes.”
Aleksander chuckled lowly through the line. “I’ll keep that in mind. This isn’t about Ophelia.”
I reached the very edge of the parking garage, and I inhaled deeply to swipe my hair back with my free hand.
“I’m calling you because I’m facing a dilemma, and everyone I ask has given me shit answers. I thought that since you’re the most sagely person I know, it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
“Let me get my robe.” My bland response earned me the beginnings of an uncomfortable silence. Rubbing my hand down my face, I grunted lowly. “What do you want, Aleksander?”
“My girlfriend has never gotten a Christmas present, and I need help finding one.”
My heart nearly stopped beating as a burst of a laugh escaped me to echo through the layers of concrete around me. Aleksander was serious if his tone was anything to go by, and expectant silence prickled against my ear. Clearing my throat roughly, I forced myself to start walking as the absurdity of the conversation flooded my veins. “Well, you would’ve already been told to get something related to what she likes, right?” I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with Aleksander fucking Makovich, of all people. This guy threatened to kill Ophelia—hangs it over her head like it’s no big deal… yet, he can’t find his girl a present? “What about something of sentimental value? Something related to an important time to her.”
“… This has nothing to do with business, Sascha, and I would appreciate it if you’d keep this between us.”
My brows rose in surprise even as I agreed verbally; did Aleksander really expect me not to tell Ophelia he needed relationship advice? I mean, I won’t, but—
“Envre has worked all her life, so I was thinking of taking her on vacation… but I can’t actually take time right now. She and my father get along really well, and I know it’d mean much to the both of them. Envre is the only one who treats him like a dad.”
I stopped short as Aleksander’s voice rang between my ears, and he sighed harshly in frustration. When I blinked, I could practically see him pacing, and I felt a bit bad for him, to be honest. For the first time, he was a human being, not a puppet master. Aleksander had human problems that he had absolutely no control over; he was just really good at hiding them from prying eyes.
He went on, “My father invited us to Moscow, and she’s never been outside Saint Petersburg. This all happened before he got shot, though. I know he still wants to get together, though. I was considering sending her by herself and joining later. It would give them time together, and Envre has really helped my relationship with my father.”
I inhaled the deep, dank air of the car park and held it, flopping my head back to close my eyes and really listen. After all, I wouldn’t use this against him, but if it made him feel better, maybe Aleksander would be open to being lenient with Ophelia.
Everyone has an ulterior motive of some sort.
“Christmas is still two months away. If you’re unsure what to do, but want to include both of them… why not throw a small party? You, Envre, and your father, and your brother, maybe… the one that’s not a douchebag.” Aleksander chuckled even as I frowned, and I exhaled heavily before starting my trek to my car. “Not all gifts are material, Aleksander. Most of our most cherished memories are just that, memories. Having something physical to hold and look back on is only important because of the memories it brings with it.”
“Do you know what you’re going to get Ophelia? How did you make that decision?”
Pursing my lips thinly, I ground my teeth as I adjusted my briefcase strap against my shoulder. My chest tightened, a lump forming in my throat as I spotted my car around a support pillar. “To be honest, I haven’t thought about it. By the time we get back from America, it’ll be a few days to Christmas and… Frankly, I don’t want to plan for anything if something happens, and she doesn’t come back. That’s Ophelia’s greatest worry right now. Going to America isn’t something she wants to do. I don’t want to compound that bitterness with a Christmas present.” Twirling my keys, I paused to lean against the trunk of my car— the car she’d just willy-nilly given to me. “Even if I was going to plan something, it wouldn’t a material gift, I don’t think. In my experience, women like an equal balance of stuff and intention.”
“Why did you get her a ring if she refuses to marry you?”
I closed my eyes at this probe, remembering the decision that seemed so long ago. Everything before the coup was almost like a different life, and I cleared my throat roughly. “Ophelia will never marry me, and that’s okay. She has her reasons, and I respect that. I knew her view of marriage won’t change. I bought her the ring because I wanted her to be able to put on it whenever she wanted and be happy knowing it’s not the ring that ties us together.” Reaching to scratch my cheek and jaw, I smiled a little as an image of Ophelia sprung up behind my eyelids. “That’s the essence of a good gift. Making her smile and feel good every time she looks at it, no matter how much time has passed.”
“… I knew it was a good idea to ask you, Sascha. Thank you. I know that our previous encounters made me hesitant to call you, but I appreciate you giving me advice.” Aleksander’s voice lilted with true gratefulness as he continued, “If things continue this way, maybe, one day, we can share a drink as… associates. I have a guest today— otherwise, I’d invite you over.”
“I’m not going to ask, Aleksander, but it sounds like whatever outcome you’ve planned to the letter is hopefully a good one. That’s good. I doubt a man like you has many friends, but I’d probably enjoy that drink.” If Aleksander was true… if this wasn’t some sort of manipulation, and he was being honest maybe, Ophelia and I had a chance. “I better get a fancy, new robe if this is going to be a frequent thing, though. Mine’s getting tattered.”
My joke earned me another laugh, a louder, more heartfelt sound than before. Aleksander didn’t reply before hanging up.
I ground my teeth as I held my phone out. The screen darkened before going black, but my mind churned in confusion. If Aleksander Makovich wasn’t such a fucking asshole, we could’ve been friends; if that conversation was an indication, we might even have been good friends.
But that was never going to happen. He was never going to not be an asshole, even if he didn’t mean to. This moment was fleeting and an indicator of absolutely nothing. Shaking my head viciously, I rounded my car to pull open the driver’s side door. I’m supposed to call Ophelia on my way to lunch, but I don’t know if I can keep my mouth shut about this right now. I’ll just call her before my next class.
29
Ophelia
“Why are you naked?” Aleksander Makovich didn’t wait for a reply, and I wasn’t particularly keen on giving him one beyond my slight glare. Shaking his head, he gestured me to follow him up the grand, curving staircase of his lavish home. “How was your flight?”
“It’s just a fancy plane.” My grumble tugged at the corners of my lips, that recent memory floated up behind my eyes. Adjusting my shoulder strap with a snap that echoed off the marble, I raked both my hands through my hair in agitation. “What’s this about, Aleksander? Anything about America could’ve been an email.”
“It’s not about our trip to America.”
Curiosity slathered my ribs as my heart leaped into my throat. Aleksander didn’t elaborate as he led me to his office, and suspicion bubbled up to cloud my vision.
He pushed the door open smoothly, gesturing me in with a sweep of his arm.
One of the two armchairs in front of his desk was occupied, and I clenched my jaw hard. The man stood up before freezing, clearly taken aback by my lack of clothing. Goosebumps washed my arms and down my legs from the intense sweep of his wide, brown eyes. Clearing my throat harshly, I arched a brow as my lips twisted in a small sneer. He was quick to avert his eyes, but my skin crawled from the phantom of his gaze even when I dropped into the vacant chair beside him.
Crossing my
knees, I flexed my toes to stop the tension in me from cramping my foot. Energy zinged up and down my spine.
Aleksander planted himself in front of the windows.
Across the vast expanse of his desk, he held all the power, but I was okay with that. I had no choice but to be, anymore.
“Thank you for taking the time to meet with me, Darren.”
My eyes narrowed into slits on Aleksander as alarm bells rang in my head. Darren? As in Darren Willians, the arms dealer? “Your trip from the Middle East wasn’t too terrible, I hope.”
“What do you want, Aleksander? You can get away with scrambling your lackies inside the Motherland at your discretion, but you don’t have that liberty with me.” Languidly sitting in the chair next to me, Darren shot Aleksander a pointed, nasty look.
The animosity he felt towards his boss was astonishing, but I kept my expression decidedly neutral.
Aleksander though, was cool as he leaned back to glance between Darren and I.
Now, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
His face was unreadable, his eyes showing nothing as he trained them on Darren. “As you know, I’ve been reorganizing my operations. Ophelia Cherinivsky already knows my plans, but you’re the first person I’m telling explicitly. Within the next 10 years, I’m going to run for Prime Minister of Russia.”
The declaration straightened Darren’s spine rigidly.
I had to admit, when Aleksander said it aloud, it had a different heaviness to it.
Stunned silence met him, and I inhaled deeply.
Darren suddenly found his voice, “Yeah… whatever you’re planning on doing with me…moving me… removing me. It’s not gonna happen, Aleksander. You may be the boss, but these people I deal with don’t trust easily. I’ve spent 15 years building my contacts. You’re not going to singlehandedly destroy it, just because you can.” Darren so casually denied Aleksander that it was obvious he’s done it before.
