Page 46 of The Fixer
“I don’t know what to do, Sascha— tell me what to do.”
Ophelia hadneverasked 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 Santinoso goodthat 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 wasangry.
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.”
“Because there isn’t any.” Darren lifted his head.
Ophelia’s breath hitched softly in surprise.
“Santino took over like 20 years ago and— boom. Just fucked everyone else in the ass, especially the Italians because they resisted. Vyachaslav withdrew on contract as peacefully as could be expected. Ever since, all we’ve managed is trade agreements, basically. They pay us for girls, guns and stuff at a discounted price. It’s the only way we could have a foothold in America. Old Man Santino is a psychopath… areal, confirmedpsychopath. Vyachaslav couldn’t contend with that, so he’s been waiting until he could deal with the son- Carlyle. Bad, but not as bad.”
“Have you met him?” The question slipped out from between Ophelia’s ground teeth, colored in curiosity.
Darren shook his head, sitting up with a grunt to flick his cigarette into the driveway only to pull another from his pocket. “No, but I’ve dealt with the middle child… Oran Santino. There’s a third, but I heard rumors recently that he’s dead. I’m pretty sure something happened. About two years ago, Carlyle started taking more and more control from his father and whatever happened, changed Oran. He was an angsty douchebag with a big brother complex, but he disappeared for a while, kept sending his little English bitch to deal with me. After he popped back up, he was— just different. Like he came into his own somehow, and wasn’t trying to be his brother. Carlyle Santino and Aleksander Makovich are one in the same, if you ask me. You’re in for one hell of a fight, trying to get either of them too close. Honestly, you’ll be lucky if they don’t try to assassinate each other because you can’t replace people like them.”
At least ours isn’t the only drama with life-ending potential.
“What about your girlfriend? Does she let anything slip?” Ophelia asked.
This conversation was getting difficult for me to follow; Ophelia’s brain just worked so much farther than mine.I wouldn’t have thought to ask about Darren’s girlfriend. I wasn’t even paying attention at that part.
Shrugging lightly as he sparked up, Darren sucked in a toxic breath as he sat back, holding himself on a lanky arm. “She’s seen him once. He came to their headquarters on the California border to meet with this head bitch…some biker chick with a big dog and a lot of street smarts. When I saw Lydia last, she talked about it. Even across the room, she felt like she was in eminent danger. He was watching her, but never so much as glanced at her. She was really troubled recounting it, even though it happened a few months before. For what it’s worth, Lydia’s a mousy, little thing.” He smiled fondly, exhaling through curved lips as his care for this Lydia woman blazed from his eyes.
Truthfully, it reminded me a lot of how I felt for Ophelia before her parents were killed—before everything went to shit.
“You know what they say though, the timid mouse is less likely to be eaten than the bold rat.” Darren shrugged.
“Yeah…”
Before they could continue the conversation, a shadow fell upon us, and a scowl instantly twisted my face.
Aleksander actually seemed apologetic and awkward almost, as he cleared his throat.