Page 34 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

I push my hand deep into my pockets, looking for my phone, but I can’t find it. Did I drop it somewhere in the midst of all the chaos?

“Looking for this?” Aleks has my phone pinched between his fingers. He waves it at me casually.

“You stole my phone?” I balk.

“Don’t worry. You’ll get it back.”

“What assurance do I have of that?”

“None at all.”

He turns to leave, but I jump forward desperately. “Wait…!”

He shoots me an impatient glare, though he stops at the threshold and waits for me to continue.

But all that comes out is the same limp protest I’ve been repeating ad nauseum. “I… I can’t stay here…”

“And yet that’s exactly what you’ll do,” he growls. “For as long as it takes. Your brother should have known better than to fuck with the Bratva.”

“Just tell me they’re going to be okay,” I whisper desperately. “Tell me my family is going to be okay.”

He narrows his eyes. The blue seems to be gone now, eaten up by the vicious black of his pupils. “As long as I’m in your life, none of you will be okay.”

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