Page 142 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

OLIVIA

When I look down at my phone and see Mia’s name, I almost drop the piece of toast in my hand. After the confrontation at her wedding, I didn’t expect to hear from her any time soon.

I wipe the crumbs off my fingers and fumble to answer the call. I’m so nervous that I nearly drop it right into the dish of butter.

“Hi—hello?”

“Hey, Liv,” Mia greets. Unlike me, she sounds calm. Almost casual.

“Hi, Mimi.”

I wince as soon as I say it. For the first time in my life, her nickname feels awkward on my lips.

The silence stretches, so I barrel clumsily ahead. “I have to admit, I’m surprised you’re calling.”

She sighs. “I know you had nothing to do with Aleks being at the wedding. He crashed and you didn’t know about it.”

“Okay, then I have to admit, I’m surprised you believe that.”

“Men like him don’t usually ask before they do what they want, do they?”

I frown. Her tone is beginning to worry me. I’m pretty dang sure she didn’t call just to chit-chat about the nature of alpha males.

She’s leading up to something.

But she’s taking her sweet time getting to it.

“How are you?” she asks.

“How are you?” I fire back. “You’re the one who just got married.”

“Good,” she says. “Still in the city, though. We haven’t gone on our honeymoon yet.”

“I heard that.”

“How?”

“I saw it on TV. You know that most entertainment shows do at least five minutes on you and Hargrove every day, right?”

“Oh. Right.” She sounds rattled by the prospect.

I can relate. Seeing my sister on the news is a trip, and not in a good way. Actually, this whole damn year has been a trip, and not in a good way.

But her vulnerability is gone when she speaks again. “Do you know why I can’t go on a honeymoon, Liv?”

“By your tone, I’m thinking it has something to do with my husband?” I guess.

“Another girl went missing over the weekend.”

My body goes cold. “I haven’t heard anything.”

“Of course not. Because when Aleksandr Makarova takes a girl, no one ever hears anything about it.”

“Mia, he didn’t—”

“I know you believe him, Liv.” Her voice cracks like a whip. “I know you think he’s above all this, but he’s not. He’s just fucking not. It’s about time you disabused yourself of the notion that the man is some Prince Charming cursed with a shitty PR team.”

“First of all, I never claimed he was anything of the sort,” I insist. “But I do know he’s not capable of abducting or raping women. Especially not underage—”

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