Page 63 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

The brutality.

I’m not so sure I can ever put those things down on paper quite right.

“Enjoy dinner,” Yulia says.

“Wait!" I grab for her hand. “You’re not joining us?”

“You’ll be fine,” she says, lowering her voice. “You look amazing. He can’t take his eyes off you.”

I’m not sure that does anything to help my nerves. But I’m left with no choice but to turn to him as Yulia disappears back into the garden.

I walk carefully to the table. Aleks doesn't stand to greet me. He stays seated and fixes me with a hard, intimidating expression.

Immediately, I feel like an idiot. Did I really think a pretty dress might change things? Like he’d turn into a blubbering Mr. Nice Guy at the snap of my fingers?

“Sit,” he orders quietly.

I sink into the seat opposite him and study the beautifully laid table to avoid meeting his eyes.

“Why go through all this trouble for me?” I mumble.

“I was having dinner anyway,” he says. “It wasn’t a problem to include you. But I appreciate you going through all that trouble for me.”

The glow in his eyes makes it clear that he’s checking me out unabashedly. I flush with color, but I still keep my eyes averted. “I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Your mother forced me into this dress. Pretty much literally.”

“Are you often forced into doing things you don’t want to do?”

I grit my teeth. “You should know better than anyone that some people won’t take no for an answer.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I don’t remember you ever saying no to me."

He smiles. It's laced with bad intention.

Despite that, my body hums. I felt it in the airport, too, when he sat next to me at the bar. It's the animal part of me, drawn to him even though I know better.

“Did you feel bad?” I blurt out so suddenly that I surprise even myself.

“For?”

“For deceiving me like you did,” I say, powering ahead despite my increased heart rate. “For pretending like you were interested in me? For sleeping with me under false pretenses?”

His expression doesn’t change. But there's a glint in his eye that drives the air from my lungs.

“If I let pitiful feelings hold me back like that, I’d be a very different man, Olivia.”

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