Page 104 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“I have no desire to keep your family, Olivia,” he continues. “But your brother started something here. And I have to stop it.”

“Even if he’s right?”

“He isn’t,” he says firmly, eyes flashing.

I squint at him, trying to figure out if his sincerity is imagined or not. I hate the fact that I want to believe him, especially because it means that my brother might be mistaken. That all of this might be for nothing.

“Of course you’d say that.”

“Don’t mistake me for a saint,” he says. “I’ve murdered and stolen. I’ve tortured and lied. I’ve destroyed businesses and men, I’ve brought my enemies to their knees, and I’ve never apologized for any of it. I still don’t regret a single thing I’ve done. I doubt I ever will. Because whatever I’ve done, I’ve done for a reason. Taking these women, though… what reason could I possibly have had for that?”

I blink in confusion. “Maybe you like to be in control. Maybe you get off on it.”

“Oh, I do,” he admits freely. “But I don’t need to kidnap women to get them to do what I want. I know an airplane bathroom that can attest to that.”

Embarrassment and shame and something far too close to arousal rolls down my back in hot waves. I groan in frustration. “For God’s sake, would you stop bringing that up?”

He tilts his head to the side. “Why? Does the memory bother you?”

“Obviously.”

What I don’t add is, It’s only my greatest shame and the single sexiest moment of my life wrapped into one.

“It complicates things, doesn’t it?” He leans forward, eyes locked on mine. “Because you wanted to believe in the fairytale I spun that day. But now, I’ve given you too much evidence against it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I never do. I’m only telling you what I can see.”

My jaw clenches, but I refuse to drop my gaze. “Oh yeah? Go on, then: what else can you see?”

“A woman who would do anything for her family. Including bargaining away her life for a year to make sure they’re safe.”

The change in subject is jarring, but I roll with it. Anything to avoid talking more about the airplane bathroom. “I don’t recall doing much bargaining. Besides, they would do the same for me.”

He nods. “Believe it or not, I admire that about you all. You, your mother, your sister. Even your irritating fucking brother. In my world, loyalty is the most important thing.”

“My father used to say that,” I whisper. “Well, some version of that. He used to tell us that we needed to look out for each other no matter what. Especially when he wasn’t around anymore.”

“How long has it been since his death?” Aleks asks somberly.

“Seven years. Feels like a lifetime ago and like yesterday at the same time.”

It’s easy to speak the truth as long as I don't look at him. Even though I still feel those eyes burning on me like spotlights.

“You see yourself as living in the past,” he remarks. It’s not really a question. Just a statement of fact as he sees it. “That makes sense.”

I frown. “What makes sense?”

“People who live in the past find it difficult to live at all.”

I glare at him. “You know nothing about my life.”

“I know enough, kiska.”

“No, you don’t,” I argue. “You may know the broad strokes, but you don’t know details. You can’t know someone based on a fucking file folder. People have nuances. I have nuances. At least, I did. Before you stole everything from me.”

“Nuances, hm?” he asks, calling my bluff. “Say more. Paint the picture of your life for me, Olivia.”

---