Page 2 of The Fixer

“Envre, your cell phone.”

She handed it to him. He then held my phone out to me.

Tears welled in my eyes at this and my throat tightened to block my lungs. My trembling intensified even as the cold vanished from my scope of comprehension. Shuffling across the room, I carefully reached for the smartphone offered to me.

Aleksander snatched it back slightly, almost playfully. He smirked grimly to thicken the goosebumps blanketing my skin. “Three minutes, Ophelia.”

“Three minutes.” For the first time, I let my mind wander to Sascha. His handsome, strong jaw, his thick beard that ruffled my hair when he drew me close. His bright, brown eyes twinkling whenever they caught mine. Taking the phone, I tapped in his number and closed my eyes to picture him.

Sascha… the love of my life; the man I wanted to hear my final words. If I truly was about to pay for the mistakes of my family, Ineededhim to know my heart was his. The ring on the line tightened my chest, as I struggled to breathe under the weight of what might very well be my final conversation with him.

And we couldn’t even have this talk face to face.How deplorable.My family despised Sascha; he wasn’t Russian born, but he’d lived in Russia almost all his life. He spoke our language, ate our food, taught at our universities…

“Dr. Matheson,” Sascha answered.

Leaning heavily against the wall, I stuffed my free hand into my mouth at the sound of Sascha’s voice. So deep, soft, but filled with confidence and authority.

“Hello?” he spoke again.

“Sascha—” I croaked hoarsely and sniffled hard as I wrapped my fingers around my throat. The action did nothing to relieve the burning, the pressure, and I licked my lips heavily. My face grew so hot, I exhaled stale air as dread roiled my stomach. “Sascha… I h-have to go, now.”

“Ophelia? What’s wrong? I’m worried about you…you haven’t taken any of my calls or anything for two days.”

The relief in his tone sent sharp, icy prickles down my sternum and I smiled sadly.Why did I ask to talk to him?I had no idea what to say now when he was on the phone. “I just want—I want you to know— Sascha, I love youso much—” My voice cracked harshly, and I sniffled viciously. “I love you.”

“What did your parents do this time, Oppie?” he asked.

A horrendous sob burst from my throat, and I practically threw the phone at Aleksander. Crumpling to pull my knees to my face, I covered my head and buried my hands in my hair. Blood drummed in my ears so loud that I couldn’t hear my own cries or ragged breaths. The sting in my throat intensified as my heart beat out of control. Why— why— why didn’t I accept Sascha’s offer to run away? We could’ve eloped and gone to America… we could’ve gotten away from my ugly family and been happy!

Tremors assaulted my spine as snot and tears stained my face and jeans. The heat in my face threatened to melt my cheeks as it seeped down my neck. After four years of trying to separate us, my parents finally succeeded. Now, though, there was no use for anger.

But this didn’t stop it from forming a dense, writhing ball in my chest, knocking my heart out of rhythm and squeezing my lungs until they were useless. Everyone around me was more concerned with their plans than my happiness. My mom and dad were more focused on where Sascha was born than what he grew up to be.

“Ophelia…” Aleksander’s called to me. He, at least, had the decency to look sad for me. “Let’s go.”

I swiped at my throbbing, reddened eyes with the back of my arm. Sniffling harshly, I struggled to stand, alone, even as Aleksander’s henchman flooded the room. Shouts and struggles were drowned under the ache in my head. Getting dragged out of the room, my parents and elder brother yelled and begged while I stayed silent. Like so many times before, the differences between us were obvious. I seemed to be the only one who could face reality.

When they decided this attempt on Vyachaslav Makovich’s life was a good idea, they’d sealed their fates. The only real issue for me was… I wasn’t involved at all. I didn’t know anything was going on behind the scenes. I’d been too caught up in Sascha and our life together to notice something was amiss. Maybe, because I didn’t want to shatter my beautiful moment— the unfiltered happiness that had filled me to bursting.

Only, now that happiness was gone, there was nothing but a void left. Unfillable, bottomless— empty.

2

Ophelia

“My father wants to kill everyone in your family.” Aleksander watched me with his hawk like gaze. “Are you upset because of what they did?”

I could only summon a slight nod. He’d been raised as the eldest Makovich to be power itself. In no feasible way did he care about the opinion of a small fish like myself when he was a shark whose teeth always grew back. “They’re stupid.” Licking my dry lips, I lifted my head.

Aleksander arched a brow quizzically.

My mouth dried at his calm demeanor— all the while I was falling apart. “What?”

“You’re not going to try to reason with me for your life?”

A soft scoff escaped my nose, but if he took offence, it didn’t show on his face. The darkness that slowed my mind became deeper, and I reached a trembling hand to my temple.

“Well, I suppose that does count for something.”