Page 123 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“Why are you here?” she demands, breaking my train of thought.

“To tell you I’m letting you go to this wedding.”

“I wasn’t aware I needed your permission to go to my own sister’s wedding.”

“You need my permission for everything,” I say firmly. “And the only way I’m giving it to you is if you’re properly guarded.”

Her eyes go wide with horror. “Aleks, I—”

“Four cars, five men each. It’s non-negotiable.”

She looks like she wants to argue, but she bites it back. She knows it’s useless—I’ve made up my mind.

“Why all the damn fuss?” she spits at me instead. “It’s not like you genuinely care about me. Why this big show of protection?”

That simple little question puts me at a crossroads.

I could tell her the truth.

I could tell her that her safety is the only thing that matters to me anymore.

I could tell her that if anything happens to her or that baby in her womb, it will shatter me in a way I didn’t think I could be shattered.

She’d want to hear that. As much as she rages and spits and claws back, she’d want it. She is still, deep in her heart, just a pure-hearted girl desperate for love.

But instead, I look her in the eye and keep up the charade I’ve maintained since the moment we met—that she means nothing to me.

“The protection is for my child, not you. Don’t confuse the two.”

I don’t stay long enough to see her reaction. I turn and leave her alone.

A sad princess trapped in a world that’s anything but a fairy tale.

29

OLIVIA

“Are we getting close?” I ask the driver for the fifth time.

The streets are clogged and we’ve been sitting in standstill traffic for fifteen minutes. I’m under no allusions as to why.

Everyone wants to catch a glimpse of the bride and groom leaving the hotel today after the ceremony. There’s a red carpet set up on the front steps and hordes of security bustling around everywhere.

“Almost, ma’am,” he responds. “Another ten minutes at most.”

I can see the hotel from here, but there’s just so much damn traffic. I would just get out and walk, but I don’t think that’s a smart move with the three-inch platforms I’ve got on.

Plus, with all these strangers and potential dangers, Aleks would have me snatched off the streets and dropped back in my ivory tower before I could even reach the sidewalk.

I’d expected to see him before I left, but he was nowhere in sight when I got into the car and drove off.

He must’ve known I was going, of course. Aleks always knows.

Which means that he chose to keep his distance.

As for my choices, I’m controlling what I can. I’m wearing my hair down and did my own makeup, even though Yulia offered to hire a makeup artist.

Under different circumstances, I’d feel like a million bucks. But as it stands, all I feel is nervous. Not just for myself and the ordeal ahead.

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