Home > Books > Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet #1)(57)

Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet #1)(57)

Author:Nicole Fox

I laugh scornfully. “You’ve confused me for someone with a heart.”

“Aleks—”

“Demyan,” I snap back. “Stop pushing this. Marriage doesn’t always have to be a disaster. That only happens when you marry for the wrong reason.”

“What’s the wrong reason?”

“Love,” I snap. “You decided to chase a foolish fairytale. To play make-believe.”

“I never—”

“Yes, you did,” I interrupt. “You thought you could have it all. Be the family man and the Bratva man. But you can’t be both. That’s why I’m not trying to be.”

“So you’re smarter than me, is that what you’re saying?”

I smirk. “I mean, I don’t think I need to say it at this point.”

He laughs and shakes his head. “Christ, you’re an asshole. I’m just being the voice of reason here.”

“I don’t have any illusions about my purpose. Nor hers. She’s not meant to be my loving wife or steadfast partner. She’s here because I need to put an end to a problem. Once that problem is solved, she’ll go right back to where she came from and I’ll forget she ever existed.”

He sighs in frustration. “When are you going to let her on to the fact that you’re listening in on all her conversations?”

“I’m sure she’ll figure it out eventually. Until then, I’ll take my information where I get it.”

“How chivalrous. Discover anything else?”

“They’re really close.”

“Her family?”

I nod. “‘Die for each other’ kind of close.”

“So like us?” he asks, batting his lashes at me.

I laugh. “I’d never die for your dumb ass.”

“And I wouldn’t piss on you if you were on fire. Glad we got that settled.”

We both grin. It’s nice to have a moment of levity every now and again. Sometimes, I forget that, before everything else, Demyan was just my best friend. It wasn’t always all about work.

But things change.

“Have you ever thought about going through with more than just passive threats?” he asks.

“Like?”

“Like, you know… exterminating the problem.” He gestures vaguely.

“You mean killing the brother?” I shake my head. “No. That would defeat the purpose of taking his sister. And he’d only be replaced by some other do-gooder Bureau rat who won’t care about Olivia enough to listen, which puts me right back where I started without a trace of leverage. No, I need Rob Lawrence in play. That’s the course I’ve taken.”

“And that course didn’t come with any additional, sexy little perks or anything…”

I roll my eyes. “Agent Lawrence has the power to end this investigation because he started it. It didn’t have any traction before he took the reins. The buck stops with him and I have his balls in a noose at present. Killing him would serve no purpose.”

“And just to be clear, it has nothing to do with the fact that it would upset your pretty little wife?”

“Are we back to this shit?”

He smirks. “Okay, okay. I’ll drop it.”

“Thank God.”

“I just hope you know what you’re doing.”

“Don’t I always?”

It’s a rhetorical question. Demyan doesn’t bother answering. He just stretches out and looks longingly towards the bar. “Too early for a drink?”

“Do what you like.”

“Such a good boss,” he says, walking over to the bar to pour himself a whiskey. “Very hospitable working environment.”

“While you’re over there, pour me one, too.”

He rolls his eyes. “Knew there was a catch.”

He pours out two glasses of whiskey and brings them over to where I’m sitting at the table. He’s only just sat down when there’s a sharp knock on the door.

“What now?” he mutters impatiently, as though we’ve had to suffer interruptions all morning.

“Enter,” I call out. The door opens and Pyotr walks in. “What is it, Pyotr?”

“Ms. Jennifer is here, sir.”

Demyan gives me a wicked grin. “Ooh, this is gonna get real interesting.”

“Send her in.”

Pyotr nods and disappears.

“Did you expect a visit from Jen today?”

“No,” I say, teeth clenched. “Which means she’s come to tell me something, and it’s not good.”

“How do you know?”

“She’s a big believer in delivering bad news in person.”

“Classy chick.”

I narrow my eyes. “Easy.”

“What? A man can admire.”

“Not this one,” I say firmly. “Not Jen.”

“Dude, chill out. You already have a wife.”

“She’s my best girl on the inside. The woman can charm the stripes off a fucking tiger. She’s an asset I don’t want messed with or distracted.”

He gives me puppy-dog eyes. “Don’t you have any faith in me?”

“Faith that you could keep her happy? That’s a definitive no. But if I want her to quit and run screaming for the hills, I’ll cut your ‘roguish charms’ loose on her.”

“You boys arguing about me?” Jen pushes the door open and walks in, all confidence and easy charm. “Well, well, if it isn’t Demyan Nikitin. What have you been up to, sugar?”

“Suffering a deep depression until I laid eyes on you, gorgeous.”

She laughs pleasantly. “If I were ten years younger and twice as stupid, that line might even work on me.” She bats her eyelids in his direction and blows him a kiss.

“Jennifer,” I greet. “Take a seat.”

“Preferably on my lap,” Demyan suggests.

Her blonde hair is darker than I remember. She’s let it grow out. It sits past her shoulders now.

She’s wearing dark trousers that flare at the knees and a skintight black blouse underneath her pristine white jacket. The woman has always had taste, but she very rarely gets to indulge in it. Work demands she blend into her roles.

“On second thought, let’s move to the sofa,” I say. “We can talk properly there.”

Demyan makes sure to stand up right when she’s walking past just so that she gets a full face of him.

“Have you been working out, handsome?” she purrs, tapping his chest delicately with her long, red nails. In her heels, she’s slightly taller than he is, not that Demyan seems to mind.

“For you and you alone,” he replies with a wink.

“Demyan,” I bark. “Move your ass.”

“All work and no play,” Jen tuts, shaking her head. “Makes Aleks a… well, you know how the saying goes.”

“No, finish it,” Demyan encourages her. “Maybe he’ll listen to you.”

She snorts. “Aleks doesn’t listen to anyone.”

“Are the two of you done?” I cock my head to the side. “You have news, don’t you?”

She eyes the drinks that Demyan and I have brought over to the seating area with us. “You’ll get your news—but first, I need a drink. You don’t want to be accused of being a boy’s club, do you?”

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