Page 8 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“Olivia—”

“No!” I snap. “I’m serious. I’m not going on national TV and talking about this. To anyone!”

Rob is getting ready to throw another argument at me when the doors fly open and I see Mia running right at me.

“Liv!” she screams, launching herself into my arms.

I grab hold of her and too many emotions well up inside me. It’s been too damn long since I saw her face. I cling to my big sister. “Mimi.”

“Darling,” Mom says, running in just behind Mia.

The two of them surround me, and for a moment, everything else fades away. I squeeze them and hold them tight, so grateful they’re here and safe.

Then I look over and see Rob watching us.

There was a time when he would have joined in. He would have wrapped his arms around all three of us and tried to make us all laugh by shaking us around.

Now, he stands apart, removed from our little nucleus in more ways than I can even begin to comprehend.

“There’s much to discuss,” Hargrove says. “But for now, maybe we should let Olivia have this moment to breathe.”

Rob nods and sits down on the sofa, but I can tell he has no intention of giving me a moment of any kind.

“If you’ll excuse me, ladies, I have business to attend to. We’ll talk later. And Olivia,” he adds with a smile, “it’s good to have you here.”

Then he leaves, taking his two stoic bodyguards with him. The moment the door shuts on him, Mom and Mia pull away and stare at me.

“You look good,” Mia says.

“Iamgood,” I assure them. “I’m great.”

Rob snorts and I want to smack him. Thankfully, everyone decides to ignore him, and I can stave off breaking the news to my mom and sister for a little bit longer.

“Oh, darling, we’re so happy you’re here with us,” Mom says with a tired smile.

I touch the locks of her snow-white hair, realizing that she’s got new lines on her face. The last three months have aged her a decade.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to worry about me.”

“It’s my job,” Mom says simply.

“You’re the baby,” Mia says. “We have to worry about you.”

“Well, you can stop for now. I’m alright.”

This time, Rob’s snort is impossible to ignore.

“Robert,” my mom chides, “what’s wrong with you?”

His voice is acid. “You wanna tell them, Liv? Or should I?”

I glare at him, but he looks back at me without any sense of compassion. When it becomes clear I’m not going to say anything, he turns to Mia and Mom.

“Rob—” I start.

“She’s fucking pregnant.”

My body goes cold. Instinctively, I raise my hand to my belly. Mia’s eyes follow the movement.

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