Page 176 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

I have to give it to her—the woman’s good.

“Is there a reason you gave Demyan a full-blown report on me this morning?” I ask with irritation as I turn to face Jennifer.

She makes no apologies as she leans against the wall and crosses her arms over her chest. There are dark circles around her eyes, though she’s tried to hide them under a thick coating of foundation.

Jennifer’s always been an emotional dresser. She chooses her clothes based on how she’s feeling. When she’s happy, she goes with bright colors—yellows, pinks, oranges. When she’s feeling down, it’s blues and grays. Anger is reds and blacks.

Today, she’s wearing deep navy trousers and a soft gray sweater that comes high up her throat. She’s tied her blonde hair back, leaving only a few strands floating around her heart-shaped face.

Depression it is, then. I’m only a little surprised.

“He was worried,” she retorts. “And I wasn’t about to lie.”

“Right, because you’re so bad at that.”

She narrows her eyes at me. “Don’t be an asshole.”

“We all stick to what we’re good at, don’t we?”

She goes quiet for a moment, clearly not expecting my antagonistic attitude. The truth is, my anger has nothing to do with her. I’m pissed off at myself.

“You’re falling into the same trap that I did.”

I lean against the opposite wall and stare down at her. “Which trap is that?”

“I made the mistake of thinking I could have a future with someone I had no business being involved with.”

“Your business is what I tell you it is,” I growl.

She is unfazed by my irritation. “What makes you think you’re so different from me?” she asks. “You spent the night with her, Aleks. I remember you telling me not so long ago that you never spend the night with any woman. It’s your most absolute rule.”

“Rules are meant to be broken.”

“Really? Is that how you’re writing this off?” she snaps. “I never took you for a hypocrite.”

“For fuck’s sake, I didn’t mean to spend the damn night, okay?”

She presses forward and catches my forearm in her grasp. “If you’re catching feelings for her—”

“Stop,” I say, cutting her off. “I am not catching anything for her. She was brought in because I needed something strong enough to control that irritating brother of hers. She is nothing more than a weapon I will use to cow him. This marriage was not about emotion; it was about convenience. And when her purpose is served, she will get to go back to her pathetic little life, and I can move on with mine.”

“That’s harsh,” Jennifer says. “She—”

But before she can finish, the door flies open and Olivia stands there, framed against the darkness. The sheet is wrapped around her chest. Her eyes are fixed on me.

She stares at me, waiting for me to tell her that what she’s just heard is a lie, a farce, an act of pride.

I don’t say anything.

“That’s all I am to you, is it?” she whispers.

“Olivia,” Jennifer begins, releasing me and stepping towards her.

“No!” Olivia answers, holding up her hand forcefully. “Don’t come any closer. I don’t want either one of you near me. You realize I’m a person, right? Not a tool or a weapon or… or… collateral damage.”

She looks at Jennifer with tears in her eyes, ready to fall.

“I trusted you. We all did. My mom, she still refers to you as her daughter. Because that’s how our family is. We loved you by virtue of the fact that you made Rob happy. You could have crawled in from the gutter and we would have loved you regardless. You didn’t just hurt him, Jennifer—you hurt all of us. And now, I have to deal with the knowledge that my brother will find out that, despite how deeply he loved you, you never truly loved him back.”

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