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

by Raven Scott

  Rolling my bottom lip between my teeth, I tilted my head back to stare at a spot on the ceiling.

  He went on, “I’m one of your strongest links to Ricardo Montoya in Spain. For that matter, I’m definitely your strongest link to India, too. I work for you simply because I was born Russian. You’re not my only option.”

  “I’m aware of why you were put in charge of arms, Darren.”

  Why am I here? Just as the question popped into my mind, I felt Aleksander’s intense eyes on me. My cheek twitched, and I inhaled deeply before lowering my gaze to meet his.

  “What do you think, Ophelia?” Aleksander asked.

  “I think this should’ve been an email. I’m not leaving Russia longer than I have to.”

  My irritation prompted Aleksander to smirk.

  My frown threatened to show on my face. “You’ve made your point. I know you and your dad conspired together to give you a pretext to destroy the families to secure yourself for elections. I know you’re not torturing Aleksi or Erik. I also know this strange rollercoaster of a campaign you’ve been waging against me to get me under your thumb, worked. What else could you possibly do to make me feel stupid?”

  “You know… when my father told your boyfriend you made me look incompetent, you drew the exact opposite conclusion most people would.”

  Irritation warmed my face, and I crossed my legs opposite.

  Aleksander propped his elbows on his desk to lace his fingers. “Do you know the problem with plotting out my every expectation of other people? Those people surprise me sometimes. You surprised me, Ophelia, not because you figured me out, but how fast you did so.”

  “Ah, wonderful. I came all the way here to get praised in person.” Planting both my feet on the floor, I hoisted myself up to stand. “Next time, email me.”

  Aleksander finally showed some emotion. He frowned, his brows furrowing as surprise flashed briefly in his eyes. “Sit… down.”

  Blood drummed in my ears as threat seeped from Aleksander’s pores like hot oil. Slowly sitting down again, my knee cracked in protest.

  His gaze pierced me, silently warning that this was not the time to get snarky. “You’re forgetting something important, Ophelia. I told you the day this was all set in motion that if you’re not useful…you’ll have to give me someone that is.”

  Flames engulfed my lungs as he sat back, his sharp eyes flickering to Darren. Sucking in a shallow breath when Aleksander’s brow twitched suggestively, I ground my teeth hard. The tension buzzing along my skin only intensified when Darren glanced at me, and I clenched my hands into tight fists on either side of my thighs. “I’m tired of you, and I’ve only known you a few weeks.”

  Real— or not— surprise flashed across his entire face at my low, slow admission.

  All the anger bubbling in my veins just dissolved, leaving nothing behind but emptiness. My nails unhooked from my palms, my back slouching sharply. I ran both my hands up my cheeks and into my hair. “I’ll go to America for you, Aleksander Makovich, but consider it my parting gift. I’m not suffering through the intense emotions that I have because of you. I’m not sacrificing my relationship because of you. I’m tired, and you’re not going to push and push and push until I end up face first in the dirt…” When I stood a second time, I didn’t stand there like an idiot. My bare feet were caressed by the carpet.

  Aleksander’s wide eyes followed me on my way to the door.

  Did I crack earlier than expected? Did I surprise him, or was he acting? Those questions and many more circled behind my eyes, but I didn’t care to find the answers. Not this time.

  Shutting the door with myself on the wrong side, I huffed lightly as my heart slowed dangerously. My eyes throbbed wildly. I wiped my nose and mouth with the back of my hand. I was 22 years old— I shouldn’t be dealing with this. I was barely an adult, but barely didn’t seem to mean much in this business.

  “Ophelia?”

  The curious, feminine voice drew my muddled attention, and ice lodged in my chest.

  Envre looked concerned.

  Well, maybe, she was genuine, but I wasn’t sticking around to find out. I’d fucking walk all the way back to Moscow than stay here one more minute.

  “What’d he say?” She sounded annoyed as she stalked past me and into Aleksander’s office. Her angry chiding droned into white noise the closer I came to the stairs, and I stood at the top. They looked hard… of course, they’re hard. They’re marble stairs. And there were a lot of them, at least 25.

  Aleksander had it all figured out; he didn’t need me. He was using the Santino issues to keep jerking me around. I couldn’t get ahead of him, and he was never going to leave me alone. That’s what people did to objects ‒ used them and fixed them when they were broken ‒ and then kept using them until repair wasn’t an option anymore.

  “Ophe—“

  The stairs grew longer, the droning in my ears turning into a whistling as I closed my eyes.

  “Ophelia! Ophelia— no!”

  30

  Ophelia

  Groaning gutturally, I cracked open my eyes as Envre rolled off me. My right wrist ached hotly, drawing a hiss from between clenched teeth as I struggled to figure what the hell just happened. Pushing myself up to sit, I shook my head wildly while the nerves in my forearm were engulfed in flames.

  “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Blinking hard, I slurred heavily as the shock wore off and my eyes found Envre.

  Holding herself on her hands and knees, she, too, shook her head.

  I glared hotly when her gaze locked on mine. Gingerly cradling my broken wrist, I huffed steam as irritation flooded every cell in my body.

  “I-I thought you were gonna throw yourself down the stairs or something— you looked…” Standing as she sputtered a reply, Envre frowned as she raked back her mahogany waves.

  My knees ached in protest, my hip flaring in disdain at being forced to move. Flexing my toes against the marble, I clenched my teeth and sucked in a huge breath to steady myself. Rearing back my hand, the slap of my palm on Envre’s face echoed through the wide, tall halls behind both of us.

  She stumbled to the side from the impact.

  I fisted my hand as my bones rattled up my arm. She’s got a hard face.

  Wide, brown orbs flew to me as she held her cheek, mouth agape, body slouched against the wall.

  Behind her, Aleksander noticeably tensed, his hair puffing out like a cat ready for a fight.

  I ignored him to gnash my teeth at her. “Even if I was— who the Hell do you think you are trying to stop me?”

  If possible, her eyes got even wider— until the brown and gold flecks in them almost disappeared at my snarl.

  “Believe it or not, but I’m very fucking much capable of thinking critically. If I was going to kill myself, it wouldn’t be here and it wouldn’t be some half-cocked method of throwing myself down the stairs.”

  “I was trying to—“

  I growled like a dog.

  Envre shut her mouth.

  Enraged shivers raced down my spine. “Trying to what, you nosy bitch? Trying to stop me? Trying to help me? You all think you know what’s better for me than me? Do you think butting your fucking noses where it doesn’t belong is going to make me want to serve Makovich? When my parents were alive, I fixed their messes, and they were the ones that took all the risks from you people. And you know what? You’re right. I do fix… I fix, and I fix well. But if I can’t fix the shit storm you’re trying to encircle me with, then I’ll cut my fucking losses.”

  Shock and horror mingled in Envre reddened, hand printed face.

  I flung out my arm to point at Aleksander with a trembling finger. Envre flinched automatically, but I drew no pleasure from it. “Congratulations! Your boyfriend’s perpetual ‘my dick is bigger than yours’ problem has consequences! The fucking audacity that beating someone into dust for your ego is going to make them upset! You fucking set me up and threaten me then make me feel like a bug
under your heel. You sap every good moment I have with a sweep of your hand and you— you— you think I’m not going to snap?”

  “Ophelia…” She sounded so sad for me.

  A disgusted laugh escaped the dense lump in my throat. The burning in my eyes streamed down my cheeks, and I wiped my snot from my nose to sniffled hard— painfully. My gaze trained on Aleksander standing outside his office door, not a lick of shame or regret glistening under his tightly knit brows. “Your father gave me an out—“

  Aleksander’s pupils narrowed into slits now.

  I hiccupped a breath, and my lip curled into a sneer. “—because I make you look stupid. You’re about to see exactly how fucking stupid you are. It might’ve been a lie, but if you think I was trying when I cleaned up my father’s idiocy— you’re in for a rude fucking awakening.”

  “Ophelia!”

  My head snapped to the left and my eyelids twitched.

  Sascha stood in the open doorway, his beard bristling and hiding his paleness.

  Casting one final glare at Aleksander, I stomped down the stairs as my brain pounded against my forehead with increasing ferocity.

  But, even now, in the very back of my mind… the tiniest voice in my head told me that Aleksander had counted on this happening, too. His blank stare— his calm demeanor— it was all because he expected this to happen. I should’ve punched her instead. At least, he probably wouldn’t have thought Envre would get in the middle somehow. Stepping out into the weak sunshine, the slight hairs on my back rose as Sascha followed me, sensibly keeping himself to himself.

  “What are you doing here, Sascha?” Pausing just before the gravel lining the driveway, I glanced back as he watched me intently. “Did Malda show up at your hall and order you here?”

  “She was worried about you, so I wouldn’t say ‘ordered’… I know I shouldn’t trust anything she says, but I believed her when she said she was acting on her own.” Sascha stuffed his hands in his pockets and pulled an uncomfortable expression. “What’s going on, Oppie?”

  “That’s a good question.” Aleksander Makovich planned everything down to the second— the second. Goosebumps pocked on my arms and down my thighs. “I’ve been behind all this time— trying to catch up. Trying and failing to get ahead of him. It’s done horrible things to me. Being useful… Aleksander has hung that over my head, and I just thought I had to be able to answer any question he had— fix anything he needed fixing.”

  “But…?”

  Staring at a particularly large pebble, I frowned at Sascha’s gently prodding. Coming up next to me, he still didn’t touch me, but he was close enough to make my goosebumps dense and my arms hairs bristle wildly. Taking a deep, cool breath to douse the fire in my lungs, I closed my eyes as I thought back…all the way back.

  Back to when my parents were alive, before I realized I would always be ahead of their mistakes. Back to when my brother was my biggest, baddest enemy. Back to when the name Aleksander Makovich was just an amorphous, looming presence in the background.

  “That’s not my role anymore. I got complacent with my parents and their blunders. The obviousness that came with experience. But I have no experience with these people.” Every single thing— every time I blinked— every time I breathed— Aleksander Makovich had taken into account. Since the second my parents ceased existing in this world, he’d calculated to the minutia; of course, some of it must’ve been lucky guesses. This was my trial run, and the past few months were years in condensed form.

  Aleksander used my greatest fear against me— losing Sascha and this life I had with him. He’d exerted his authority by killing my parents and brother. He’d reminded me that he was always watching me. He’d reinforced our roles as master and servant.

  None of that was unique. None of that wasn’t something I’d go my entire life without experiencing. Aleksander was master of all and appeaser of none. There was nothing he wouldn’t do to get what he wanted. And what he wanted was—

  “Santino.” Darren sauntered out of the house, a cigarette hanging from his lips, he sparked up to glance at me under the flames. “He’s right. You’re impressive, how fast you figure shit out. It took me years to realize that Vyachaslav can walk circles around me, and I’d never be able to follow it.”

  “Are you going to America, too?”

  Shaking his head as he took a deep drag of his cigarette, Darren frowned as he held his breath for a long moment. “Not immediately, unfortunately. I’m not supposed to come in until after you’ve done your job. It’ll be nice not to have that asshole brother of Carlyle’s take cut from me, though. You know, I once watched Oran Santino beat a man to death with his bare hands simply because he was frustrated at having to hold a gun? I mean, the guy has probably never shot a gun in his life, but he could kill you without you even knowing it. All the arms I move into the States and Mexico, I have to sell to them, first.” He exhaled through his nose as he spoke. Darren frowned under furrowed brows when he dropped to lounge on the steps. “I didn’t know Aleksander was gonna say that, no offence. I mean you’re hot, Ophelia, but you’re not that hot that I’d go through with that. It’d kill my business if I was married and unfaithful. These people have the strangest scruples.”

  “Do you have a girlfriend or something?” I asked.

  Darren reached to scratch the back of his head and ruffle his sleek, dirty blonde hair, lightened by years of harsh sunlight. “More like I’ve been chasing this solid goddess-level beauty for a few years, but all she wants is to fuck me. She’s a model in America, the only reason why I support this shit Aleksander’s doing. The agency she’s with is under one of Carlyle Santino’s shell corporations.”

  My brows rose at his downtrodden tone. I knew next to nothing about him, but his actions alone told me a good deal.

  Darren shook his head before sucking on the butt of his cigarette. “Anyway, I hope things get better for you, because if you do pull this off with Santino, you’ll be untouchable, and you can have the life you want, Ophelia.”

  31

  Sascha

  Taking Ophelia’s hand in my own, I lifted her fingers to lips before she looked at me for the first time. When Malda came to me, told me Ophelia was in a bad way, I didn’t think it could be this bad. I knew she was troubled by Aleksander and how incredibly ironclad the man was but witnessing her smacking Envre across the face was… disparaging.

  “I don’t know what to do, Sascha— tell me what to do.”

  Ophelia had never asked me what she should do, and worry dug deep into my chest. She wanted advice, she wanted a perspective, but never did she say those five words.

  Her red-rimmed eyes trained on mine, searching for an answer I couldn’t give. Rasping a sigh, she ducked her head to her knees.

  I wrapped my arms around her. “I don’t know how to navigate this situation, Oppie, but I’ll be by your side as you learn.” I wasn’t sure how much she thought I saw, but a sickness roiled my stomach and tightened my throat. Those so recent memories bombarded my mind’s eye, circling over and over again. Ophelia hit Envre— said those awful words she’d been too uncertain to speak before now. That moment when she realized this all had went just exactly how Aleksander Makovich planned. The hopelessness of someone always on top suddenly being plummeted to the middle.

  No, it wasn’t rock bottom, but this might even be worse. Being caught in the middle meant that ‘up’ wasn’t the only option, here.

  “Don’t worry about Aleksander.”

  Ophelia stiffened briefly at Darren’s drawl.

  I glanced over at him as he sprawled on the wide stairs. I couldn’t imagine it was all that comfortable, but I kept my mouth shut as his opened.

  “He’s an asshole at first, yeah…but he’ll relax once he gets what he wants from you. At least you have the benefit of knowing what it is. The way he’s been treating you isn’t okay, Ophelia. You lost your parents and your brother and took on everything they left behind, even though it conflicted with your own
life. Aleksander shouldn’t have fucked with your relationship.”

  An ugly sensation smeared my ribs like black tar as Darren went quiet; Aleksander had called me just hours ago asking for advice for his own girlfriend while actively trying to push mine over the edge. I’m never saying another word to him again. Such a juvenile thought, but it was true.

  Nothing Aleksander did was genuine—there was always some deeper, darker reason to everything he did and said.

  “I’m going to fix this situation with Santino so good that Makovich will never ask me for anything again.” Mumbling into her knees, Ophelia heaved a massive sigh.

  My heart ached for her. Here we were, sitting on Aleksander’s front steps with no way to move forward. We had to wait on him, and there was no way to force him to move.

  Through the open door, Envre’s yelling was faint enough that I couldn’t make out the words— but she was angry.

  And why wouldn’t she be? Envre had warned Aleksander and as a result of his actions, she’d been slapped. She’d been confronted with the human cost of this business, maybe for the first time. Seeing Aleksander do those terrible, terrible things to people was different than watching him drive someone else to kill herself. Not to mention, Envre could very well see herself in Ophelia. They’re just three or four years apart, I think. Whatever Envre had been through might’ve been close to Ophelia’s situation. Aleksander didn’t see Ophelia as a person, only a piece for him to move as he commanded.

  “It’s going to be a long two weeks until we go to America.” Ophelia lifted her head to take a loud breath in through her nose. “He hasn’t given me any information on the situation.”