Page 127 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“Which one of the guys I’ve ever dated qualifies as a ‘bad boy’?”

“You chose safe because you didn’t want to get hurt,” she points out. “So you picked men who didn’t have a chance of hurting you. But that doesn’t mean it’s what you craved. This guy is different. He’s your wet dream come to life.”

I shudder. “Stop that.”

“I’ve seen him, Liv, remember?” she reminds me. “I saw the man clearly. I may have been bound and gagged, but I wasn’t blindfolded. He’s hot.”

“Mia—”

“But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a freaking Bratva don, honey. He’s dangerous. So believe me, I get that that’s part of the appeal—”

“Stop,” I say forcefully. “Just stop. I don’t… I’m not attracted to him, and I’m not okay with this situation, either. All I was trying to do is reassure you that I’m okay. I’m not being tied up or tortured or anything crazy like that. That’s all.”

She sits with that for a moment, but I know she’s not totally satisfied. “Has he… Have you… He hasn’t forced himself on you, has he?” she asks tentatively.

“Jesus, no,” I say firmly. “He hasn’t forced himself on me.”

“Okay, good. Glad he’s keeping his hands to himself at the least.”

I keep my mouth shut. It’s not totally a lie, and besides, she doesn’t need to know about what happened. Nobody does. If I had it my way, I’d wipe it from my own memory, too.

I hear shuffling on the other end of the line, and then Mia’s voice gets fuzzy in the background. She’s talking to someone else.

“It’s Liv… I know… She called me… Wait, Rob! I haven’t finished talking to her yet! Rob! Don’t—”

“Olivia?” Rob says, his deep voice filled with concern.

“What’s up, big head?” I say as cheerfully as I can, using the nickname I’ve had for him since I was a little girl.

He’s supposed to respond with Nothing much, chicken feet. But instead, all he does is growl, “Are you okay?”

I sigh. So much for faking happiness.

“Yeah, I am. I told Mia everything already. I can’t leave the house or anything, but I have freedom of the compound now. I’m treated decently.”

“Has he tried to force himself on you?”

“God, why does everyone keep asking me that?” I say. “No, he hasn’t. He’s been… fine. Distant. Aloof.”

“But has he tried to threaten you? Has he hurt you in any way?”

“He hasn’t hurt me at all,” I assure him. “It feels a little bit like living in a hotel, to be honest. There’s a maid that comes in to clean my room. There’s a chef in-house that’ll cook me whatever I want…”

“Fuck me,” Rob breathes.

“What?”

“You understand what he’s doing, don’t you?”

I frown. “Holding me hostage?”

“No. He’s luring you into his world. Trying to bring you into the fold. Soon enough, you’ll be his little puppet, parroting anything he wants you to say.”

“Rob,” I say, “listen to me. I’m not so simple-minded that I can be won over by a nice meal and clean sheets. I don’t intend to remain his wife for long. He’s told me that if you keep your word and drop the investigation, then he’ll release me.”

“Release you?”

“Give me a divorce and let me go,” I explain.

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