Page 102 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

OLIVIA

Aleks’s eyes roam the walls of my room.

He lingers on the image I’ve drawn of him, and I find myself waiting for him to say something about it. A comment on the likeness, an insult on the crudeness.

Instead, he says nothing.

I can’t stand the silence. “What else could you possibly want from me?” I finally ask.

“Your cooperation.”

“I am being cooperative. That’s what this is.”

“Not quite,” he says. “I need information from you.”

I frown. “Why on earth would you think I’d agree to that?”

He gives me that tilted smile of his that makes my heart ache and beat faster at the same time. “Because you’ll get something out of it, too.”

“Which is…?”

“The chance to see your family again.”

My eyes go wide. I don’t even have the forethought to manage my expressions; I just give him exactly the reaction he’s looking for. I know that’s not wise, but I can’t bring myself to care.

He sees it right away, of course. “Is that a yes?”

“I… I’m not sure yet,” I say. Too little, too late, but I have to start getting my shit together or I’ll never win a single one of these head games with him. “I need to know what you expect from me.”

“Simple. Your brother has been leading an investigation into my Bratva—”

“You want me to get information on an FBI investigation?” I interrupt incredulously.

“That is the gist.”

“Rob is never going to tell me a thing. Especially not now.”

“There’s only one real piece of information I want to know.”

“Which is what?”

“The tip he received,” he says. “The one that tied the abductions to my Bratva. I need to know his source.”

“He might not even know his source,” I point out. “People report stuff anonymously all the time.”

“Then it will cost you nothing to ask.”

The conversation between us, like always, pings back and forth so fast that my head spins. I find myself staring into his blue-green eyes, wondering how he managed to close the distance without even realizing it.

“You’re asking me to betray my brother.”

He shrugs. “I wouldn’t say it like that.”

“Of course you wouldn’t. Tell me, then: how would you say it?”

“You’re helping me find out who is really responsible for these disappearances,” he snarls. “Because there is a predator out there, Olivia. And it’s not me.”

“Wow. You’re very convincing.” I clap my hands softly. “I almost believe you.”

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