Page 111 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“That would have involved leaving the Bratva,” I point out.

“Yes.”

“You’d really have done that?” I ask incredulously.

“I still would,” he says. “In a heartbeat.”

“Well, fuck.”

He smiles. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I say dismissively. “Whatever you say. So much for loyalty.”

“I see the way you look at Olivia, brother,” he says gently. “It’s the same way I used to look at Miranda.”

“Dem—”

“Just hear me out. The girl is special to you—you just don’t want to admit it. But don’t let pride get in the way like it did for me. You need to tell her how you feel.”

“Jesus, what happened to you?” I ask. “Since when do we talk about our feelings?”

“Since we got too old to fuck around with important shit,” he says somberly. “I’ve lost a child now. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you.”

“It won’t.”

“No?”

“She’s in love with me,” I say. “She’ll stay. She may fight me, but she’ll stay.”

“I used to think the same thing about Miranda. And it was true at the time… Until one day, it wasn’t. Love isn’t a permanent state of being, Aleks. It’s a process. Like growing a flower. And if you neglect it, it can abandon you. Once she decides she’s had enough, forcing her to stay won’t be an option. She’d wither on the vine.”

“Her alternative would be leaving without her child,” I argue. “She’ll never do that.”

“Do you really want her to feel forced to stay?” Demyan asks.

“This conversation requires alcohol,” I growl. “It’s too early in the day, Demyan.”

He smirks. “Sorry. I’m getting sentimental in my old age.”

“Well, put a lid on it,” I say. “My first priority right now is to take down that motherfucker Hargrove. My second priority is to find you a new woman.”

He smiles at that one. “I’ll find my own woman. How about you concentrate on yours?”

I glance back at the window. They’re still by the lake, but now, Olivia is sitting beside my father. It looks like she’s reading to him.

“How are things otherwise?” Demyan asks.

“I’m still working on finding more leads,” I tell him. “We need to find a victim who’s willing to talk.”

“That’s a long shot.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” I grumble.

“And our new… asset?” Demyan asks cautiously, like he’s still not sure.

“Proving to be a pain in my ass. As expected.”

“At least he’s on board.”

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