Page 185 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

OLIVIA

I’ve done the math again and again.

Almost three months to the day since I was brought here.

Three months of confinement.

Three months without my family.

Three months of Aleks’s cruelty, laced through with just enough moments of the lightness inside of him to keep me from giving up hope altogether.

And also… three months since my period.

I try telling myself I’m stressed, I’m scared, my body’s in no mood for reproduction, so of course it makes sense to miss a few cycles.

But in my bones, in my soul, I see that for what it is: bullshit.

I’m pregnant.

I’ve spent the last hour standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at my body for evidence. But there are no immediate signs that it’s true. My belly is still flat, my hips still slightly curved. There’s been no bloating or strange acne. Perhaps the only thing to note is that my breasts are sore.

For a little while, I can keep up the lies to myself. But I don’t know how much longer they’ll survive.

When I hear my bedroom door open, I dress quickly in black sweats and a white crop top. I step back into the bedroom, expecting to find Yulia there.

Maybe I’ll tell her. Maybe she’ll reassure me, help me figure out what to do.

Aleks told me not to trust her, but if I don’t trust her, then who the hell else in this house do I have? No one. Nothing.

But it’s not her at all.

It’s him, staring at me with those piercing eyes.

And all I can think is, He knows.

He fucking knows.

“How are you feeling today?” he asks.

I frown. “Did you really come up here to ask me that?”

“You looked sick yesterday.”

“I’m fine.”

He narrows his eyes. “Your color is off.”

I narrow my eyes back at him. “Gee, thanks. Very flattering.”

“Have you thrown up again?”

Lie, screams my inner voice. Lie to him.

“No.”

“One of the maids said she heard noises from the bathroom this morning when she came with breakfast,” he says.

“The maids need to mind their own damn business.”

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