Page 47 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

And me on the other side, with only Aleks Makarova to keep me safe.

“Both of you need to take a breath,” Rob interjects. “Makarova is not Olivia’s husband. She’s a victim.”

Mia takes a deep breath. “I know, I’m… Shit, I’m sorry, Liv. I shouldn’t have said that. This situation… It's unprecedented for all of us. Difficult for all of us. We can’t let it tear us apart.”

That much I can agree with.

I nod slowly, but I can’t seem to get the shouting match out of my head. The anger is still churning inside me, trying to find an outlet.

“I know you think he is innocent,” she continues. “But we have proof that he’s not, Olivia.”

She glances towards Rob and he comes forward to join her. The two of them united against me. They’ve practiced this, I think. Rehearsed what they’d say, how’d they’d say it.

The realization makes me nauseous.

“She’s telling the truth, Liv,” my brother says. “I know the story he’s fed you: that Donnie is the one trying to frame him. But it’s the other way around. Makarova is the one trying to frame him.”

I shake my head and open my mouth to argue, but Mia refuses to let me speak. “Look, munchkin, I understand what a difficult position you’re in. He was obviously charmingto you while you were caged in with him. And you’re carrying his child.”

She’s holding my hand tightly now. I can’t help but cling to it, hoping—or maybe “wondering” is the better word—if there’s enough history between us to survive this fight.

“It must be hard for you,” she continues, “to reconcile what he’s being accused of with the knowledge that you’re pregnant with his baby.”

I nod. That much is true, too.

“Look at me, Livvy,” she pleads.

I drag my eyes up to meet hers. She gives me a reassuring smile.

“We’ve got your back. Remember what Dad used to tell us all the time?”

“‘Look out for each other. No matter what,’” I mumble.

She nods. “Exactly. Rob and I are here for you. Even though it might not seem that way sometimes, it’s true.”

This doesn’t solve all of our problems, but the words warm me nonetheless. She pulls me into a hug, and even though I want this—she’s my sister, after all, my own blood, my best friend since birth—there’s part of me that still shies away from her touch.

“Now, come on,” she says when we separate. “Let’s go for a drive.”

“A drive?” I glance at Rob, but he’s already turned away from me, towards the door.

“Yes,” she says. “The three of us.”

“Where are we going?” I ask.

But Mia is so focused on Rob she doesn’t even seem to hear my question. “Rob, call for the valet to bring your car around to the entrance, will you?”

He nods and disappears, but as he goes, something about the clouds in his eyes makes my insides quiver a little.

I push down the feeling. This is Rob and Mia. They have always protected me. I have to believe that that’s what they’re doing now.

And if there’s a way to salvage our relationship, I owe it to all of us to take it. To myself, to them, to Mom, to Dad.

So when Mia leaves my suite, I follow her out.

We head downstairs. The valet is waiting for us with Rob’s car. The same beat-to-hell, copper-colored Camry he’s had all these years.

Climbing in feels like getting into a time machine. Mia and I take up our usual positions—her in the passenger seat, me in the back. But it’s the smell that’s the real trigger for me. The leather seats are worn, but they smell the exact same.

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