THE FIXER

I have no phone. I can’t even take an Uber to the Kremlin.

“We need to use those plane tickets and get back to Moscow. Then we can get your money and a fresh start.”

Here she goes again with her big plan.

“Mama, it takes months to transfer property after a death. Maxim didn’t even have access to Igor’s money yet.”

Her face goes pale. “That’s our only hope.”

It’s hers.

But not mine.

My hope is Maxim. My life is Maxim. I just have to get him to see me, so I can make him believe.

I open my suitcase and change out of yesterday’s clothes and into a pair of capri jeggings and a cute top. I opt for practical shoes.

“I’m going to see Maxim,” I declare. I don’t care if I have to walk across Chicago, I will get there, and I will see him

I ignore my mother’s dire warnings and protests and leave the building. It takes me all afternoon to get to the Kremlin on public transit.

The moment I walk through the front doors, the guard shakes his head. “Get out. You and your mother are forbidden from entering.”

“Please, I just need to speak with my husband.”

“Get out, or I throw you out. I’m on strict orders,” he tells me. “If you come back, I’ll call the police. And you wouldn’t want that, would you? Aren’t you supposed to be dead?”

And that’s when it hits me. I definitely don’t want to be dead.

And if I’m not dead, then Maxim has control of my money. Which means his obligation to Igor will still be in place. Unless he believes I nullified it.

Either way, it’s a good place to start. I nod. “Please call the police. I want to report myself not dead.”

Maxim

I’M on the couch working on drinking myself into oblivion again when my phone rings. It’s the security guard downstairs.

“Fuck off,” I mutter and dont answer.

He calls Ravil next.

“Huh. Well, call her bluff. Call the police on her,” Ravil says.

My head snaps up. “You’ve gotta be shitting me.”

Ravil shrugs. “She says she’s going to report herself undead unless you come down.”RêAd lat𝙚St chapters at Novel(D)ra/ma.Org Only

I settle back and nod. “Call her bluff. She has to stay dead if she wants to control her money.”

“I was going to wait a few days to tell you this, but-” Nikolai starts.

I hurl my glass at his head. It misses but smashes against the wall, shattering.

“Right. I’ll wait a few days.” Nikolai has the grace to look unaffected by my attempted assault.

It shouldn’t be so hard to go one day without hearing her goddamn name.

Without thinking about her. Imagining I smell her. Wondering how I could be so stupid as to get played.

Forty minutes later, the asshole guard calls again. This time I answer, ready to chop off his fucking head. “What is it?” I snarl.

“The cops want to talk to you.”

“What?” Fuck. She actually went through with it.

I don’t want to admit what that does to me. She just gave her fortune back to me. But I can’t do this. I don’t know what kind of game she’s playing, but I won’t let her play me again. No fucking way.

“Yeah, I think you might be a suspect in the bombing,” the guard says in Russian.

Ah. Now I see her angle. Or do I? Fuck, I have no clue. I can’t think straight.

I’m supposed to be the Fixer, but I can’t fix a goddamn thing right now.

I head for the elevator, and Ravil, Nikolai and Pavel get in with me. At least I know they’ll always have my back.

Brothers you can trust.

Just not women.

I go downstairs, and there’s two cops in the lobby standing with Sasha and the guard.

“Here he is.” Sasha gives a big smile and a wave. “You see? I’m not hiding from him.”

The female police officer narrows her eyes. “So you went into hiding after the explosion, and your husband thought you were dead? But now you’re not hiding from him?”

“I was never hiding from him. I was trying to protect him from trouble. My father was the head of the Russian mafiya, and after he died, I feared some of his men came after me for revenge.”

“Russian mafiya,” the male police officer repeats, looking us all up and down suspiciously. “What men were these?”

Sasha shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“How long have you known your wife was alive?” the female officer asks me.

“Since last night.” No point in lying.

“And you didn’t bother to notify us? Neither of you did?”

“Like I said, I was laying low. In case they were after me.” Sasha has the nerve to walk over and stand beside me like we’re a unit. She wraps an arm around me.

If it weren’t for the police, I would shove her away. Except I feel her trembling.

Aw, fuck.

I don’t want to care about that.

I don’t want to even have to try to figure out what my conniving devil of a wife is up to right now.

Is she trembling over me or over the cops?

Gah.

I grab her by the nape and yank her roughly around to kiss her hard on the mouth. Then I lift my head and look pointedly at the cops. “I’m so happy she’s alive.”

I wish she wasn’t breathless, looking up at me like she’s never going to look away.

It takes some more back and forth, and the promise of a detective following up, but the damn cops finally leave. I walk Sasha around the corner, where I pin her to the wall by the throat. “I don’t know what your game is now, caxapok, but you can stop playing it. It’s over between us.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and I muster every bit of rage I have against her to keep those glittering drops from moving me.

“Maxim, please. I just want to tell you what happened.”