Page 167 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

Hargrove’s eyes spark, but he’s still standing. He still believes he can weasel his way out of this situation.

And why wouldn’t he? He’s spent his whole life escaping consequences.

“Drop the gun, Hargrove,” Kennedy sighs.

Before Hargrove can protest, one of Kennedy’s agents cocks a gun right behind him. Realizing he’s well and truly cornered, Hargrove finally drops his pistol. It hits the carpeted floor with a sad little thud.

Kennedy nods to the cops clustered around the perimeter. At his signal, they descend on Hargrove, reciting his Miranda rights as they cuff his hands together behind his back.

“You can arrest me,” Hargrove growls. “But I’ll get out. I have more money than God. You think I won’t make bail?”

“I’ll make sure you won’t have a bail to make,” Kennedy replies with a grimace.

Hargrove turns to Rob and me, trying yet another tactic. “Your sister… I’m her husband. I’m your brother-in-law. You have to know I wouldn’t do something like this, Robbie.”

I take a deep breath, but I can no longer believe the man. Deep in my heart, I never believed him to begin with.

It’s just like Aleks said: some truths refuse to be caged.

“Is any of it true?” Rob asks him somberly.

“Of course not, Robbie. Of course not!”

“I don’t believe you.” Rob shakes his head, disappointed by whatever he sees in Hargrove’s eyes. “You will never see my sister again. I will make sure the marriage is annulled.”

“Seriously?” he says, his eyes popping out from their sockets. “This marriage is the one you’re going to annul? What aboutthatone?”

He jerks his head towards me. “Aleksandr Makarova forced Olivia Lawrence into marriage against her will. She was under duress. She was his prisoner at the time. Is that not a criminal offense?”

Kennedy turns to me. “If there are charges you would like to file, Ms. Lawrence… now would be the time to bring it up.”

I turn to Aleks. Our eyes meet. He doesn’t say anything, but his expression says everything that needs saying.

The only question left worth asking.

Do you trust me?

I take a deep breath before I speak.

But I already know my answer.

“No, Mr. Kennedy, no charges,” I say confidently. “Aleks never abducted me. I went with him willingly. I was—Iamin love with him.”

Hargrove ruins the moment. “That’s fucking bullshit!” he spews.

Kennedy turns to Hargrove with a disgusted expression. “Don’t make a fool of yourself, Donald. It’s time to get you down to the station.”

“He murdered her!” Hargrove screams as he’s being towed away by a pair of federal agents. “Makarova just killed his own mother in cold blood. How can you not believe he’s the real villain in this?”

Aleks's brows come together. “You’re really trying to pin this crime on me, too, Hargrove?” he asks. “I’m not the one who killed my mother. You did.”

Hargrove looks momentarily dumbfounded. “What the—”

Aleks turns to Kennedy. “Check the bullet that killed her. It was fired from Hargrove’s gun.”

Hargrove’s eyes bulge, and as they do, I finally realize the reason for the leather gloves that Aleks is wear—

I stop short, realizing that he’s no longer wearing the gloves. His hands are bare again.

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