Page 83 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

“That’s what worries me,” I tell her sadly. “The fact that you believe that. Maybe in your world, it’s different. But in this world,myworld, it all ends in bloodshed, one way or another.”

“If I'm such a liability, maybe you should have married someone else!" She’s all fire right now. Fire and passion. “You tell Jennifer everything. Maybe you should have married her.”

“No,” I snarl right back in her face. “There was only ever you.”

She leans back and attempts to slap me, but I snatch her hand out of the air and pin her against the balcony railing.

Then I press my lips against hers.

She gasps against me, and seconds later, she starts to give in to the kiss despite herself. Her lips part for me.

And fuck, she tastes good.

I grab the hem of her Valentino dress, pulling up the silky fabric that doesn’t even come close to the smoothness of her skin.

I want to bury myself in her until she’s screaming my name in pleasure instead of anger. Wouldn’t that be a great fucking change?

I slide my lips over her skin, down her neck. She grabs handfuls of my shirt. Her chest is heaving against mine.

“No,” she blurts suddenly. “Stop.”

She doesn’t sound remotely convincing. But a beat later, she pushes me off her. I step back immediately. Because, despite what herduratskiysiblings think, I have never nor will I ever force myself on a woman.

Even if the woman in question wants me so bad she can barely breathe.

“This is just more of you manipulating me,” she accuses through labored inhales.

Her lips are swollen and her eyes are dilated. She wants this, but she doesn't trust me.

Not completely. Not enough.

I shake my head. “Why are you so afraid of this?”

“Because I can’t lose myself again,” she says, trembling against the balcony railing. “If I wasn’t willing to do it for my siblings, then I’m certainly not going to do it for a man. Even a man like you.”

“I thinkyou’rethe one you don’t trust, Olivia,” I say in a low voice. “You don’t trust yourself around me. Because I show you what you could be if you just stopped locking the best of you inside.”

She skirts around me, giving me a wide berth as she goes for the French doors. “I’m going to my room now. It’s not like you have anything to discuss with me. All you really need is Jen—"

She stops short when she realizes that Jennifer has just entered the room. She’s clearly heard part of the argument because she stands there awkwardly, glancing between us.

“Jennifer,” I greet coolly, leaving the balcony.

“Sorry,” she says. “Didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“There’s nothing to interrupt,” Olivia snaps. “You’re the one he wants, anyway.”

She glances back over her shoulder at me. Her eyes are wild. It's clear she's hurt. It's been a hard day for her with the funeral and everything else.

I could solve it all for her, if she’d just let me. But she’s stubborn, so goddamn stubborn. Too stubborn to take medicine for the pain even when it’s right here in the palm of my hand, outstretched towards her.

“I’ll leave him to you,” she hisses as she maneuvers past Jennifer and stalks out of the room.

Jennifer watches her go with wide eyes. “Damn. I’ve never seen her like that before.”

“What can I say?” I shrug. “I have a talent for riling women up.”

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Jennifer says, shutting the door. “You realize she’s pregnant, right?”

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