Page 10 of The Fixer

I flicked the burner off as, but the nagging in my head didn’t die down. Obviously, I was missing some key information. Grabbing the pot, I shuffled my way over to the stove to drain my pasta.

Sasha looked up at me. “Oppie… you don’t want to get caught off guard again, but speculating isn’t going to do you any good. Let’s have a nice dinner, and I’ll walk you home after.”

“My life is on the line, Sascha… Ican’tget caught off guard again.”

Behind me, Sascha stood up, his chair scraping slightly on the hardwood.

Filling the pot with an inch or two of water, I closed my eyes when he wrapped his arms around me. His warmth seeped into my back, his own hands covering mine in quiet support.

“What aren’t you telling me, Ophelia? What is Makovich hanging over you to make you worry this way?”

Chapped lips brushed my neck and jaw, and a shaky sigh crowded my chest. Sascha’s questions echoed in my ears, insistent but nottooinsistent. “He told me… that if I wasn’t useful, he’d find someone who was.” Shame coated my tongue, sticking to the roof of my mouth as I frowned darkly. “He’s got no problem removing anyone that gets in his way. This is serious, Sascha. Aleksander would never let anyone from the families just leave.”

“Okay. I’ll handle this, you go sit.”

An ugly, black blotch engulfed my insides at my little, white lie. Slipping out from under Sascha, I walked the short distance to throw myself into his vacant chair. Covering my face with my hands, my fingers inched into my hair while my heart made a bid to squeeze out between my ribs.

“Earlier, at the Square,” Sasha spoke again. “I did manage to learn that Aleksander is replacing people with his siblings. Kiri wasn’t happy about being forced to work. What do you think that means?”

Propping my elbows on the table, I inhaled a deep breath through flared nostrils. My eyelids fluttered closed, but my mind didn’t stop whirring at a frantic pace. If Aleksander had been planning anything before the assassination attempt on his father, I surely wouldn’t know about it. That was worrying; Aleksander didn’t answer to anyone. Traditionally, the head families kept this kind of thing in check, but he obviously couldn’t care less about tradition. “I won’t really know anything until I get to my parents’ place in the morning. You know, Sascha… I’m really regretting the whole not eloping with you thing right now. Aleksander reaches far, but not as far as America. That’s the only thing I’m sure of right now. Thelastthing Makovich needs is to piss off Carlyle Santino.”

Sascha’s curious gaze settled on my shoulders.

I blustered a heavy sigh. My not-so-subtle change of subject worked, at least. “If we got married, I could get an American visa on your dual citizenship, and Aleksander wouldn’t be able to touch us there.”

“There’s someone Aleksander is afraid of?” Sasha asked.

Grunting lowly at the amused, disbelieving lilt in Sascha’s tone, I shook my head. Makovich was so, so careful when it came to America, and ‘why’ was one more thing I knew for certain. Santino was dangerous ? a psychopathic, world ? wide phenomena that took down the Italians in a single blow.Not that it was that hard…“If there’s one person in this world that Aleksander Makovich respects, it’s Carlyle Santino. My parents always tried to push Vyachaslav to do something about him, but the old man never gave in. I assume that Aleksander and Carlyle have an agreement of some sort that’s more beneficial to keep up than rip apart. Carlyle owns the Americas, Canada, England. Even Makovich doesn’t have that kind of influence. West of Iraq is his. While it’s great for drugs and stuff, Makovich isn’t a household name across the world like Santino. Carlyle Santino took down the Italian Mafia in one hit.”

“Oh… I wonder what it’d be like to be a fly on that wall,” Sasha mused.

I’m sure I’ll find out at some point. Vyachaslav was the target of an assassination attempt. At the very least, Carlyle Santino will come to scope out the stability of the Russians. I’m more concerned about why Vyachaslav is following Sascha…

There wasn’t much I could do about it right now; until I had more information, I was fairly powerless. And that sucked.

7

Ophelia

Gazing up at my parent’s humble home: a 3 story mansion with a really ugly fountain in the middle of the circular driveway… I reached to rub my face. I hadn’t even stepped inside, but I already felt frustrated. Tiredness hung my lids low, clinging to the backs of my eyes to throb lightly. As if a sleepless night wasn’t bad enough, my blood was a thick slurry of anxiety and fear of what I would find beyond the ornately carved front door.

My parents were stupid. That much was proven without a doubt. They were already in the ground in some nondescript grave, maybe somewhere on the property. Truth be told, I couldn’t care less at this point; what’s done is done and should stay done. No one could’ve stopped Aleksander Makovich, and no good could ever come from my lingering on the past.

But that past also affected my future far too directly for my comfort. Clenching my hands into tight fists, I scrunched up my nose as I started up the wide steps. My parents had modeled this house after Aleksander’s, as if that would somehow impress him. The opulence of every detail was excruciating, and the ache in my eyes intensified with each step. Grabbing the curved, brass handle, I sucked in a huge breath through flared nostrils and held it.

My heart beat wildly before I opened the door, and dead silence met me. All the staff had been laid off, but what shocked my system was the noiselessness left behind. The stillness— a barrette dropping on the tile would be as loud as an earthquake. Gazing around at the utter lack of presence, I wrapped my arms around myself tightly to rub my goosebumps off my biceps.

“Creepy.” My voice echoed, and a shiver raced up my spine to bristle the hairs on the back of my neck.This is like those haunted house shows Sascha likes to watch.Shutting the door behind me with a damningclickof the lock, I gulped down the tightness in my throat. The tiles had a faint coat of dust from being completely undisturbed. Obviously, the cleaning staff hadn’t been here ? maybe since the day my family got stuck in the basement.

I took to the curved staircase to head upstairs, and surprise rose my brows from all the open doors. Peeking into the nearest room, my mouth dried at the mess left behind. Cori’s love for exotic, designer clothes was strewn all over the floor, a broken necklace dangling over the foot of her bed on rumpled, soft pink sheets. Wandering deeper into the room, I knelt down to pick up the gems left behind.

“Someone had a good time,” a voice spoke.

Jumping at the overly loud observation, I almost tripped over my own feet as I whipped around. My heart jumped into my throat, and my lungs stuttered underneath my palm.

The young, handsome man leaning on the bathroom door frame arched a brow quizzically at me.

I closed my eyes to stop the world from spinning.