THE FIXER

His mother-lying to him about coming back.

Me-telling lies about him to get him banished.

And now this-what must seem like the biggest betrayal of all.

He must believe it was all fake. All a lie. That I played along until I had my chance to steal my fortune away from him. Leaving him heartbroken and alone.

And me sipping Mai Tais on a beach in Spain with my mother.

Neither my mother nor I made a peep during the shooting. No screams. No movement. It’s like we’re the prey animals whose only protection is going perfectly still.

“Maxim.” I finally make my voice work, force my lips to move.

“Don’t speak to me.” He turns and leaves the hotel room, taking my life-my future-everything I ever wanted and more-with him.

Ravil, Pavel and two soldiers I don’t know crowd in the room.

It takes me a few seconds to realize Ravil’s gun is still out, and he’s considering me and my mother. I remember my mom orchestrated Vladimir’s death, and Ravil must know that.

“Ravil,” I croak. “It was them.” I point at the dead men on the floor. Men I can’t find it in me to feel one ounce of sadness for. I don’t believe my mother cares much, either. “My mother and I are the victims here.” Now I’ve become the liar Maxim believes me to be.

“Hvatit vrat!” Ravil barks. Enough with the lies.

I drop the pretense and do the only thing I can think to do to save her life-I beg.

“Please don’t kill her…us… please.”

Ravil seems to make up his mind. He tucks his gun in the waistband of his slacks. “It’s for Maxim to decide.”

The air leaves my lungs. Maxim will decide our fate. Whether we live or die. I honestly can’t decide if that’s a good or bad thing.

Does he hate me enough to condemn us to death?

Ravil gives orders to the soldiers with him, and they start to move around, staging the bodies. “You two-get your things.” He beckons to us.

We scramble up off the bed. My mother grabs her purse and zips up a small suitcase.

To Pavel, the pakhan says, “Get them out of here and into a different hotel. Sit on them until I contact you.”

Pavel nods wordlessly. He doesn’t look at me when he walks past. “Let’s go.”

We leave the dingy hotel room, and Pavel leads us down the stairwell and out a back door to the alley behind the hotel.

“I didn’t know, Pavel,” I try to tell him as we follow his long strides. “This wasn’t my plan.”

“Save it.” He affects a cold, bored tone.

My heart thuds painfully against my sternum. “I got in my, car and my mom pulled me out, and then it blew. That was the first I knew about this.”

“I don’t give a shit about your story, Sasha. Save your breath.”

Hot tears burn the backs of my eyes. “I need to talk to Maxim.”

That seems to get under his skin. He stops and whirls. “No, you don’t,” he snaps. “You don’t ever need to talk to him again.”

My tears start to fall in earnest.

“You don’t fucking deserve the tears he shed over you.”

My heart squeezes so tight it stops beating for a moment. Maxim cried over me?

Pavel throws open the door to a white Mercedes SUV, and my mom and I climb in the back.

“This wasn’t my plan,” I repeat brokenly as he starts the car.

“Shut your mouth, Sasha,” Pavel says. “Or-” he breaks off and shakes his head.

He probably left the threat unspoken as a fear tactic, but the silliest part of me wants to believe it’s because Maxim loves me. And Pavel can’t threaten me in case we work things out.

I cling to that hope for the drive.

My mother says nothing. Her face is drawn up and pinched, and she squeezes my hand tightly, but doesn’t say a word.

She probably knows how much danger our lives are in.

Pavel takes us to another seedy hotel, and we follow him in. After he books a room with two doubles, he lets us in it, and sits down in the chair.

When he takes out his gun and rests it on his knee I give up on conversation.

In fact, I give up on figuring any part of this out. I pull back the covers to one of the beds, crawl in and squeeze my eyes closed.All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

If only I could fall asleep and forget it all.

Maxim

I STUMBLE INTO THE PENTHOUSE, which appears to be spinning. I thought I waited long enough, drinking straight vodka at the bar on the corner, that everyone would be asleep, but no fucking luck.

It’s like the assholes were waiting up for me.

And the sympathetic vibe makes me want to hurl.

“Fuck off, all of you.” Not sure if I growled it in Russian or English. Maybe Chinese.

I stumble, and Nikolai gets up like he’s going to help me, so I take a swing at him.

And miss.

And somehow end up on my face, my shoulder smacking the couch on my way down.

Oleg hauls me to my feet. At least I think it’s Oleg. No one else could do it so easily.

I blink up at him. “Fuck off,” I slur.

I’m not sure what happens after that. I think I black out.

When I become aware of my surroundings again, light’s pouring through the windows straight into my skull. I try to move and roll off the couch onto the floor.

All the fucking assholes are still in the living room. Or maybe they left and came back, I can’t be sure.

I climb up and sit on the couch. “What do you want?” I grumble at Dima, who gazes at me from his work station.

“I’m sorry about Sasha,” he says.