Page 150 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“You need to get her out,” I say.

“But—”

I shake my head as car doors slam outside. “We don’t have time, Yulia. This is the only way.”

I’m about to walk out when she grabs my hand. “Olivia, you have to be convincing.”

I can tell that she’s worried about my ability to keep up pretenses. I can’t exactly blame her. I almost had a fully-fledged meltdown upstairs just a few short minutes ago.

“I know. Don’t worry. I will be.”

“Are you certain?”

I nod in response. And then, before I lose my nerve, I walk out into the main foyer.

Yulia, Moritz, and the girl duck into the second common room to the right, one of the few that doesn’t open out into the garden. But it does have windows that overlook the front façade of the house on the opposite side.

If I can get Aleks into the rear den where the grand piano is sitting, then they’ll be able to climb out and leave using one of the cars. Most of the vehicles Aleks owns have tinted windows, so it’ll be easy enough to conceal the sleeping girl once she’s inside.

“Olivia?”

Aleks walks into the house, surprised to see me.

“Hi.” I smile. “You’re back already?”

“Disappointed?”

“Of c-course not,” I say. I curse myself internally for the awkward stumble and try to regroup. “I just… I was just walking.”

He raises his eyebrows. I wonder if he’s already on to me. That would truly be pathetic, to blow the game so quickly.

But then I remember what’s at stake here: a young girl with her whole life ahead of her.

I need to get my shit together.

“Can we… talk?” I ask, gesturing for him to follow me into the den. Once the door closes, we’ll be afforded some privacy, which should give Yulia enough time to get the girl out of here.

“If you want,” he says, following me into the room. He looks amused when I close the door behind him. “Something bothering you?”

I turn to him, trying to figure out what my pretense is for wanting to talk to him in the first place. I’m coming up hatefully blank.

“Um…”

He waits patiently, but I can’t read his expression and I have no idea what he’s thinking right now.

“What’s going on between us?” I blurt. It’s the first thing that pops into my head.

As mortifying as it is to talk about this, it’s not faked. The question has been festering in the back of my mind for ages. I’m not in the right headspace to keep track of a lie. The stakes are high and the best deceptions contain at least a shred of truth.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, we’re married, legally speaking,” I say. “We’re having this baby and… we have been known to engage in… in…”

“Carnal relations?” he jokes, though his face remains impassive.

I blush. “Yes,” I say with an embarrassed nod. “That. So what are we, Aleks? Because despite all that, I still don’t know where I stand with you.”

“Where would you like to stand with me?” he asks.

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