Page 93 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“Holy fuck,” I breathe.

She laughs. “Good, aren’t they?”

“Orgasmic.”

We sit in silence as I demolish five of the seven croissants sitting in their dainty little breadbasket. I wash them down with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.

“Feel better?” Yulia asks when I’m finished.

“Much.”

She nods. “Good. You know, darling, this doesn’t have to be horrible for you.”

I push myself off the chair and take two steps back. So much for the good vibes provided by the croissants.

“If you’re actually trying to suggest that I accept this marriage, then you’re delusional.”

“He can be cruel,” she continues. “But he can also be fair.”

“He abducted me because my brother was doing his job, then he forced me to marry him because my brother didn’t do what he wanted. Which part of that is ‘fair’ in your eyes?”

“It’s the way the Bratva works.”

“Well, it’s not how my world works. Or anyone else’s. So you can understand why I don’t want to give up on it just yet.”

“You are married to him now, dear.”

“So then we’ll be the first people in history to get divorced,” I seethe sarcastically.

“But think of the opportunity that this marriage could give you. You’d have real power. The ability to control your fate.”

I snort. “As if he’d give me that kind of freedom.”

“He can be reasoned with. He’s not all monster.”

“No, just part monster,” I say. “That’s so much better.”

“What I’m trying to say is that he will not hurt you if you don’t give him a reason to.”

“So I’m expected to be the obedient little doormat, am I?”

She shrugs. “There are worse things in life.”

“Worse than being turned into a glorified housekeeper?”

It’s a cruel barb, and unnecessary. As misguided as she is, she does think she’s trying to help. I shouldn’t attack her so viciously. Not like it’s gonna do anything positive for me, anyway.

Yulia freezes for a moment before she regains her composure. “I found my place in this world. It was more than I ever expected from my life.”

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

She nods sadly. “I was born poor. I grew up poor. When I caught Aleksandr’s father’s eye, everything changed for me. I got to experience a different kind of life. The kind of life that gave me more than just the gnawing futility of uncertainty.”

“Very poetic,” I say. “But can you honestly sit there and tell me you were free?”

“Freedom is overrated when you don’t have options, Olivia.”

“Maybe it was for you,” I say. “But I do have options. I have a life in New York. I have a career and friends and family. But my career is crumbling because I’m trapped here, my friends are probably wondering why I disappeared, and my family is worried shitless about me. Aleks is ripping every single option away from me.”

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