Page 82 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

Am I really so weak that my opinions can be so easily changed? That my perspective can be so easily manipulated?

Maybe it’s true what Demyan said earlier—that confidence makes it more difficult to be manipulated. Which would explain why it’s taken no effort at all for Aleks to mold me to his liking.

All it took was a little bit of attention, and I found myself making excuses for him. Bending over backwards, both literally and figuratively.

“Is that true?” I ask, turning to Aleks.

He doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he keeps his gaze fixed on my brother. “You have evidence?”

“I do.”

“In what form?”

Rob narrows his eyes. “What does that matter?”

“It matters because whatever evidence you’ve been given is a fucking lie,” Aleks snarls. “It’s planted. I’m being framed.”

“And who would want to do that?” Rob scoffs.

Aleks throws Rob an incredulous look. “Do you know who I am? I have a lot of enemies. Many of whom fight like cowards.”

I study Aleks’s features, trying to determine how much of this is just an elaborate ruse and how much is true. He looks sincere. But then again, I’m sure he’s a brilliant liar when he needs to be.

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t expect anything from you,” Aleks says. “Especially not after today.”

“My sister’s done nothing—”

“No,” Aleks interrupts, “she hasn’t. But you have. And she’s going to pay the price for that. I did tell you her safety depended on you, didn’t I?”

Fear flashes across Rob’s face as he realizes the vulnerable position he’s placed me in.

“It’s okay, Rob,” I tell him, making sure to meet his gaze. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. Do what you have to do. I’m not the only one who matters.”

“I won’t abandon you, Liv,” he says. His jaw sets with determination as his gaze flicks back to Aleks. “You don’t want to make this a full-blown battle, Makarova. I work for the goddamn FBI. The house always wins.”

Aleks smiles. Menace rolls off him in waves. “You forget, Robert: chaos is where I’m most comfortable.”

Suddenly, I notice movement outside the open windows. At the same time, I register the click of a dozen different weapons being pointed in our direction.

“FBI! Drop your weapons now!”

I look around, realizing the entire building is surrounded by agents who are dressed in full riot gear. Rob looks triumphant as he takes another step forward.

“You’re surrounded,” he announces to Aleks. “If you want to walk out of here alive, you’ll let my sister go right now.”

I search Aleks's face for any sign of fear or nerves, but I find none. He just smiles at Rob. “Why would I do that when I have the upper hand?”

Before Rob can say a word, I notice more movement.

More men.

More guns.

And behind each of the FBI men, I see a Bratva soldier—masked and clad head to toe in riot gear—step up and press a pistol into their throats.

“I didn’t think you’d stick to our bargain,” Aleks tells Rob, who looks suddenly seasick. “So I didn’t, either. Tell your men to drop their weapons or I’ll tell mine to blow their fucking heads off.”

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