Page 117 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

She bites down on her lip. “He’s not interested. He understands how things work.”

“Tell me: did his interest in you increase once you told him who I am? Who we are?”

Her eyes go wide. “That’s a cruel thing for you to say.”

“I haven’t said anything yet,” I seethe. “Answer the question.”

She looks like a trapped animal as the predator is closing in. “Our friendship is real,” she insists. “I swear it is. I won’t—I haven’t spoken about you.”

I lean in and pin her against the wall with one hand planted on either side of her face. “I forgave you for your mistakes once. I won’t do it a second time, mother or not.”

“What are you saying?”

“I expect you to end your relationship with him,” I order. “I will not allow pillow talk to be my undoing.”

“Pillow talk?” she balks. “I’ve already told you, we’re not romantically involved. I’m not his type.”

The way she says it catches my attention. As though she’s privy to some insight about Hargrove that isn’t common knowledge.

I fucking knew it. Everyone has skeletons in their closet.

“Not his type, huh?”

She gives me a noncommittal shrug, trying frantically to backpedal from her slip of the tongue. “It’s just a thing people say.”

“How did you meet him?”

“It might surprise you to know that Donald and I have been friends for a while now. We were first introduced when you were in Russia.”

“You’ve known him for years?”

“Many,” she says. “He’s been my friend and confidant for a long time.”

“Confidant,” I echo. “I don’t like that. What do you confide in him about?”

“For starters, he knows what it means to have a fraught relationship with your child,” she says.

“Oh, spare me the bullshit. We have—”

“What we have is hostility,” she interrupts. “Arguments. Rage. How long has it been since we sat down and had a conversation, Aleksandr? Just a pleasant, comfortable conversation?”

I shake my head. “What would be the point?”

“I’m your mother,” she says. “You should be able to talk to me.” She runs her hands over her face as though she’s trying to see clearly. “Honestly, I sometimes think that the biggest reason I want to be included in Makarova business is because it’s the only way I can connect with you.”

I frown. She sounds sincere, but it seems so unlike her.

“I’m not sure that’s the smartest plan.”

She sighs and touches my face with a tender hand. “You live and breathe this life, Aleks. It doesn’t leave much room for anything else. Or anyone else.”

“This is what I was meant to do.”

“I’m not disputing that. I’m just saying, there’s more to life. You could have everything, and yet you’re settling for this one little part. And you don’t even see what it’s costing you.”

“No price I’m not willing to pay,” I growl defensively.

“What about a family?” she presses. “One day, you might want one.”

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