Page 86 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“No,” I retort, “you didn’t. We’re getting married today, Olivia. And your brother was thoughtful enough to be here to watch it happen.”

“You… you can’t be serious, Makarova,” Rob stammers.

I tap my chin thoughtfully. “Why would I joke about the holy bonds of matrimony?”

Another door opens and four of my men come hustling in with a table, which they set up in the middle of the space. A fifth sets a thin stack of paperwork on top of it.

“You can’t force me to do this,” Olivia finally blurts.

I laugh in her face. As if saying something so pitiful will stave off the inevitable.

“Force you?” I ask in mock surprise. “Of course not. You want to marry me, Olivia. You just don’t know it yet.”

“You son of a bitch!” Rob yells as he suddenly lunges forward.

My men are quick to grab hold of him. There’s no way he’s getting through that human wall. All he can do is strain, hurl insults at me, and keep growing redder and redder.

I round on him. “I warned you, Lawrence,” I snarl. “I gave you very specific instructions and you ignored them all. So now? Now, we’re about to become family.”

“Aleks,” Olivia says, grabbing my arm again feebly. “This… this isn’t happening…”

She sounds so helpless. So fragile. Poor little thing doesn’t know what to do.

But I know.

I always know.

"It's unfortunate that you’ve been caught in the middle of this, Olivia,” I sigh. “But I gave your brother multiple warnings.”

“He’ll listen this time,” she says, close to tears. “He will, I swear. Right, Rob? Right?”

“No, he won’t. Look at him.” She doesn’t move, so I grab her face and wrench it around until she’s staring her brother in the eye. “He won’t ever stop, Olivia. He’s a bulldog with the scent in his nose. Or at least, what he thinks is the scent, even if he’s wrong. He’s not that much different from me, come to think of it. Rob just chose his path and I was born to mine.”

“He will listen,” she protests again. Her voice is growing weaker and weaker. “I’ll… I’ll make him. I’ll convince him.”

I shake my head like a disappointed parent. “There are consequences to every action. And he’s going to meet his now.”

A sob escapes her lips with no words attached.

I turn from her towards the priest. “Are we ready?”

He nods without raising his eyes to meet mine. He’s really taking this “see no evil, hear no evil” thing to heart. “Yes, sir,” he mumbles. “Bring the bride forward.”

“Bride?” Olivia gasps, as if that one simple word is finally making this real to her. “I’m not a bride. No… no, you can’t make me marry him.”

“Olivia!” Rob tries to force himself between my men. All that does is earn him a punch to the gut.

Olivia screams as he falls to his knees and groans.

“You can make this easier on him,” I whisper in her ear as two of my men grab him and haul him back to his feet and a third rears back to punch him again.

Fearing the worst, Olivia throws her hand out and grazes the Bratva soldier’s elbow. “No, stop! I… I’ll do whatever you want.”

I hold up a hand and my soldiers freeze in place. “What was that?” I ask her mildly.

She wrenches her eyes to mine and blinks back her tears. “I’ll… I’ll marry you.”

I nod. “Smart choice.”

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