Page 38 of The Fixer

“Do you want to get married?” He asked the question so easily.

I sighed before shaking my head.

“Why not?”

“Marriage is not something I have a good experience with. I don’t want what we have to be tainted by expectation, Sascha.” Sourness coated my tongue.

He hummed as he slung his arm over my waist.

His warmth seeped into my skin, his fingertips brushing my lower back comfortingly. Closing my eyes to savor his feel and smell, I let all my worries wash away. “I love you too much to marry you.”

“How long are you going to be in America?”

“I don’t know, yet, but I want you to come with me. I thought you could see your brother? It’s been a long time, hasn’t it? Almost a decade.”

Squeezing me to his chest, Sascha grumbled in agreement.

I would be anxious about going to America another time. Right now, in this beautiful moment, I simply loved him with all that I was. “Want to cook dinner together?”

“I would love to, Oppie. What were you thinking?” Sweeping his hand up my back, Sascha nuzzled my forehead tenderly.

A tiny smile crested my cheeks, the peace of this moment wrapping around my bones. “Maybe we’ll keep with the America theme. I’d have to look up some recipes, though.” The peace didn’t last as I rolled sloppily over and off the sofa with a grunt. Worry prickled down my spine as Sascha’s revelation overtook my brain. If Vyachaslav and Aleksander had planned everything as well as I suspected… I wasfucked.

It meant that scaring my pants off was intentional, and not just for fear’s sake.

It meant that reassuring my pantsback onwas also very much according to their plan.

It meant… I had nothing. I had no leverage. I had no security. I was completely at Aleksander’s mercy— but, hey! At least I wasn’t pissing myself every time I wasn’t trying to get a 360 degree view of myself and my surroundings.

Scowling lightly as I left the living room, I raked both my hands through my hair.There’s nothing I can do about it, now. I’ve been totally fooled. There’s no use wasting energy on it. I just have to learn not to underestimate Makovich again.

Of course, I may or may not be part of Makovich, but I’d successfully ignored that prospect for a decade. I could keep ignoring it. Obviously, the Patriarch didn’t want that information getting to his kids— that he’d cheated on their dead mother. If Aleksander Makovich has plans for me, I’ll just have to take it all as it comes. Dealing with the aftermath of acknowledging my parentage was way worse than anything he could do to me.

This time, though, I would handle it better.

My reason why wrapped his arms around me to crane his neck and kiss my cheek. “I love you, too, Oppie.”

I’m so screwed. I’m so fucked. God damnit.

26

Sascha

“So… this is all going to happen while we’re in America?” Skepticism strained my voice as I rocked back on my heels.

Ophelia nodded firmly.

The computer generated model looked nice and clean. On the screen, the house didn’t look anything like where Ophelia and I currently lived.

“It’s only been two weeks since Vyachaslav came to my lecture hall, Oppie. I know things are looking up, but this seems a bit too optimistic, don’t you think?”

“Do you think? According to the email I got the other day, we’ll be in America for a month. And it’s all paid for by Makovich Industries.AndI want it done before winter. It’s already late in September, and the rains are already starting up.” Ophelia’s family assets had been transferred to her, and she just went with it. That same day, she’d contracted a company to rebuild her parents’ house. She spent a good amount of money on something for herself, even though she refused to tell me what it was.

My understanding of how much money she had, just in liquid, was completely inaccurate. All these years together, and I never knew exactly how much money Ophelia had access to. She never showed off; of course, her nice clothes for company events wereexpensive, but these past weeks were something else entirely.

It’d calm down, I hoped. Ophelia was entitled to a little splurging. These past four years, she’d been very good at managing her money because she was always afraid of her parents cutting her off. They’d certainly threatened it a lot ? if she didn’t break up with me ? if she didn’t make them look good… if this and that and all the other petty reasons.

“So, what do you think of the plan?” The head builder was a mason whose age was impossible to determine on his looks alone. “We can always change it. It was smart of you to tear it all down. It’s much easier this way than doing a remodel.”