Page 148 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

Mike raises his eyebrows, but I can see that he’s fighting a smile. “You’re talking about Mr. Aleksandr,” he says. “This is…”

“Oh my God,” I gasp when it finally clicks. “Aleks's father.”

Mike nods. “Bingo.”

And I just called his son an asshole. Right to his face, no less. I study the man’s features, searching for annoyance, anger, or insult.

But there’s not much expression there at all. His face is a desert, totally devoid of emotion.

His eyes, though? Those are bright, sharp, and searching.

And they’re fixed right on me.

“I’m sorry about the asshole comment. I didn’t mean it.” I frown the moment I start stumbling over my words. “You know what, scratch that. He is an asshole. Just… maybe don’t tell him that. I’m already in deep shit with him as it is, and—I mean, not that I care, but he… dammit.”

“Don’t worry.” Mike laughs and pats the old man’s shoulder. “Your secret’s safe with us. Right, boss?”

The old man blinks twice and mumbles something that I don’t catch. His speech is slurred, near-silent.

Whatever he says, though, Mike seems to understand. He chuckles and nods. “Right.”

“What did he say?” I ask, moving closer.

“He said that Mr. Aleksandr didn’t inherit any of his charm.”

I can’t help laughing, even though this man’s spawn is the cause of my worst nightmares. “It’s very nice to meet you, Don Makarova.”

He slurs out something else and Mike translates for him. “He wants you to call him Vlad.”

“Vlad?”

“It’s a nickname,” Mike explains. “I think that means he likes you.”

I nod, taking note of the state-of-the-art wheelchair. “Would it be rude to ask what happened?”

“A stroke,” Mike explains with crisp professionalism. “Years ago. It left him paralyzed on one side of his body. He can still move the other half, though. And he’s as sharp as ever.” He wheels Vlad forward so that he’s sitting right in front of the lake. “He likes coming here in the evenings. It’s peaceful. Better than staring at the damn ceiling day in and day out.”

“It is,” I agree. I move a little closer to Mike and lower my voice. “Um… do you guys live on the grounds?”

“We do,” Mike says. “Well, he does. Me, too, most of the time, but I have a few days off every month. Vlad has a second caretaker come in on those days.”

Vlad says something else. Mike leans in to hear him out. He chuckles again when he straightens. “He’s not a fan of his second caretaker.”

“No?”

“She doesn’t have the same laidback vibe with him that I do. Isn’t that right, boss?”

Vince mumbles something else, and this time, I catch most of it. “You were the best out of the worst bunch of morons I ever saw.”

Mike just looks at me and shrugs, totally unfazed. “You can guess where his son got the asshole gene.”

I’m a little surprised that Mike can get away with that kind of comment, but Vlad doesn’t seem to mind. Or maybe it’s more about the fact that he can’t afford to mind.

“So you’re the new bride, then?” Mike asks conversationally as he takes a seat on the grass next to Vlad.

I wince as I join him. “You heard.”

“Everyone who lives in this house has heard.”

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