Page 125 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

The question of choosing sides that’s haunted our family since the moment Aleks entered our lives.

“Not that I have to worry aboutyoursafety,” he adds, glancing towards the bodyguards who have fanned out over the room.

“He’s… protective of the baby,” I explain in an embarrassed mumble.

“I suppose, in this case, I can’t blame him,” Rob says. “Anyway, I’ll see you during the ceremony.”

“Save me a seat?”

He nods. “I will.”

As he walks off, I wonder if confronting him with Jen was a mistake. I hoped it would help him see the truth, but I worry it’s done more damage than good.

The hotel staff are busy ushering wedding guests into the grand hall where the ceremony will take place. But I go in the opposite direction, towards the back rooms.

“Ma’am?” I turn to find one of the hotel managers giving me a polite smile. “You’re here for the Hargrove wedding, I presume?”

I resist the urge to correct her.Hargrove-Lawrence wedding.My sister deserves equal billing.

“I want to see the bride before the ceremony,” I tell her.

“Oh, I’m afraid that won’t be possible—”

“I’m her sister.”

“Oh,” the manager says, her brown eyes going wide. “Olivia Lawrence?”

I nod. “That’s me.”

She smiles politely. “Well, then, please follow me.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. I’d half-expected to be informed that Mia had no desire to meet with anyone while she was getting ready.

As we ride the massive, golden elevator up to the seventieth floor of the hotel, I feel a stab of sadness.

I should have been with Mia from the moment she opened her eyes today. I should have been the one organizing things for her, helping her get dressed, telling her that nerves were just par for the course. We should’ve been sharing champagne and giggles and tears and hope, and then I should’ve been right at her side while she said “I do” to the love of her life.

Instead, I’m arriving an hour before the wedding, ensconced at the very bottom of the guest list, worried that Mia might order me to get the hell out the moment she sets eyes on me.

The manager holds the door open. I step through.

The room beyond is massive and luxurious, which I expected. What I’m not expecting is to see so many other women flitting around.

Mis is sitting on a round, white-cushioned settee that’s almost completely hidden underneath the layers of her lace wedding dress. A flock of assistants scurry around her, fussing with her hair and her dress and her makeup.

There’s so much going on that Mia doesn’t see me at first. But I don’t mind that. I want to be able to look at her—admire her—before I have to figure out what to say.

The dress is elaborate. The lace runs up her hands and snakes up her neck, revealing only little flecks of skin here and there. The bodice is tight-fitting at the torso before flowing out into a perfect A-line skirt that’s worked through with more of the fine, shimmering lace. Her hair is an intricate weave of silky tresses, held in place with pearly clips.

As I move forward, the women part naturally. Mia’s eyes lock onto mine. She looks surprised to see me here, but she hides it behind a smile.

“Livvy.”

“Mimi,” I say with a genuine smile. “You look absolutely beautiful.”

She glances down at herself. “You don’t think it’s too much?”

“Is there such a thing on your wedding day?” I ask.

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