Page 95 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

It’s kind of business chic, in a strange sort of way. Her blonde hair is loose in big, styled waves that flow over her shoulders.

“You look really nice,” I say.

She barely glances at me. “Thanks.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of… cruel, though?”

That makes her turn to me, one eyebrow raised. “I didn’t get ready today with him in mind. This is to help me feel more confident.”

“Sorry.” I blush. “I was judging.”

She sighs. “It’s okay. I’d be doing the same in your position.”

“If you’re so nervous, why not just refuse to come?”

“Your husband is a tyrant sometimes.”

“Only sometimes?”

She chuckles before the smile slides off her face. “Aleks is probably right, though. Per freaking usual. It’s about time I faced this. Faced Rob. There’s too much at stake to keep avoiding him. I can’t be a coward forever.”

“I would describe you as many things,” I say. “‘Cowardly’ is not one.”

“You’re being nice because you feel sorry for me.”

“Please,” I snort. “I don’t feel sorry for you at all.”

“Fair enough.” She smiles. “I’m gonna let you go in first. It will give you some time together and then I’ll come in and—”

“Blow up my peacemaking lunch?”

She scrunches up her nose. “Can we agree beforehand that whatever happens in there, this is Aleks’s fault?”

“Sure, I’m okay with that.”

We laugh together. For a moment, I’m transported back to two years ago. When “Isabella” was going to be part of our family and everything felt… if not complete, then at least well on its way to being complete.

I know I’m not the only one who felt that.

“Is he bringing his gun?” Jennifer asks. “Maybe I should have worn my vest.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much.”

“Oh no?” Jennifer scoffs. “A bullet through my heart seems fair. After all, I broke his.”

“And you could only do that because he loved you. Still does, in fact,” I point out. “He wouldn’t hurt you.”

She sighs. “I know that. I’m just nervous.”

It is odd to see her like this. Even as Isabella, the woman was nothing if not confident. And yet, faced with the prospect of meeting my brother for the first time since her disappearance, she seems downright terrified.

“This is karma if I ever saw it,” she complains. “The universe is paying me back for all the shit I’ve done.”

I raise my eyebrows. “I’ve never actually asked you: what do you do?”

“The simple answer? I break men and scoop what I came for out of the remains.”

I shudder from head to toe. “Jesus. That’s… morbid.”

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