Page 160 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“Not for almost a week. It’s been peaceful.”

She gives me a pointed smile. “I’ve heard that you two fight like an old married couple.”

I roll my eyes. “Christ. For all his macho masculinity, Demyan is a gossipy old crone.”

She throws her head back and laughs. “Cut him some slack. He loves you.”

“It’s the only reason I don’t kick his ass on a regular basis.”

“He thinks there’s something going on between the two of you.”

“Jesus,” I groan. “Not you, too.”

She raises her hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not saying I agree with him. I haven’t actually seen the two of you together. So until then, I’m going to reserve judgment.”

“Consider me flattered,” I drawl, throwing her own words back at her.

“But since that might not happen anytime soon,” she says, “I’m asking you directly: is there something there?”

“No,” I say firmly.

That irritating voice in my head is roaring in protest again. It only knows one word, it seems: Liar. Liar. Liar.

I drink more whiskey to drown it out.

Jennifer nods, but I can see she isn’t convinced. “You married her.”

“It was a strategic play.”

She arches her brow. “Indeed. How is that working out for you?”

“These things take time,” I say. “And her brother is a lot more stubborn than I gave him credit for.”

She tenses. “He’s a lot like you in that way, you know.”

I glare at her. “Unfortunately for him, he’s on the wrong damn side.”

“It’s all relative.”

“Is it? Whose side are you on, Jen?”

She glares at me. “Don’t you dare disrespect my loyalty like that, Aleks. You know that I’m on your side. Always have been, always will be.”

I nod. It’s true enough. “It might be time to stop hiding.”

“And blow my cover?” she asks. “No shot. I’ve got too many irons in the fire. I’m not willing to compromise all the work I’ve done in the last year.”

“Forget him, then,” I say. “But Olivia might need to find out the truth.”

“Why?” Jennifer asks. “So that you can prove you’re not the villain she thinks you are?”

“You forget, Jennifer: I know you.”

“And…?”

“And I know why you want to maintain your identity. You don’t want to deal with explanations.”

She wrinkles her nose, but doesn’t deny it.

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