Page 156 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

OLIVIA

I will not betray my family.

But the devil in front of me has eyes that beckon.

It’s more than just Aleks’s masculine beauty. It’s his confidence, his strength, his power. It’s everything that I’ve dreamed of while lying in bed next to the quiet, boring men I thought were all I was allowed to ask for.

I denied it to Mia before, but of course I chose safe men. Because safe is easy. Safe is safe.

Rain batters against him, soaking through his shirt. The contours of his chest become more visible through the wet fabric. His broad shoulders. His chiseled chest.

But it’s hard to focus on anything with his predatory eyes on me.

“Don’t flatter yourself that I want you,” I say, trying to infuse strength into my tone. “It doesn’t mean anything. It won’t last long.”

“That’s what I thought, too,” he rasps somberly. “But I can’t stop fucking wanting you.”

My jaw almost drops. It might be the first time he’s ever said anything of the sort. Ever admitted that the thoughts in my head aren’t crazy.

This might be crazy, yes—this mad passion, this unreasonable obsession, this stupid fake marriage—but I’m not crazy for thinking it exists. It’s real.

But I would be crazy if I let it continue.

I should leave. Run, don’t walk. The rain is cold and I’m starting to shiver. But I don’t want to turn my back on him.

I step out from under the shelter of the tree. “Jesus,” I gasp, shivering. “The rain is freezing. Aren’t you cold?”

He shakes his head. “They train it out of you.”

“The cold?”

“The feeling.”

I frown. “What does that mean?”

“It means you should go inside,” he sighs. “Before you get sick.”

“And I suppose you don’t catch colds, do you?” I ask. “That’d be too human for you.”

“They train that out of you, too.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Sometimes, you don’t seem real to me.”

“I feel the exact same about you.”

“Like that!” I exclaim. “What the hell does that mean? Who says cryptic things like that every second of every goddamn day?”

Aleks just sighs again. “Come,” he says. “Let’s go back.”

We walk up the path towards the house in silence. I try to act like the chill isn’t bothering me. I try to be immune, just like Aleks. But my teeth are chattering by the time we get inside.

The moment the door is shut, Aleks starts stripping down. He removes his shirt first, discarding it on his tiled floors. Then he starts unbuttoning his pants.

“What are you doing?” I ask in alarm.

“What does it look like I’m doing? You better get out of those clothes, too.”

“I’ll wait,” I say. “You do realize the maids are around, don’t you?”

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