Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(19)

Not doing anything else—and not wanting to put off the inevitable—Alex got dressed, heading to the club where Mishca, at least, would undoubtedly be. While she’d wanted to make an effort in her appearance, she just didn’t feel like going through the hassle, just putting her hair up into a messy bun and wearing a dress with tights.

The ride to the club was quiet and never ending, a sharp throb starting behind her right eye with each honk of the cabbie’s horn. The nausea was returning, and at this point, she didn’t think she could stay away from Snow anymore, not with what he was offering. She had already gone through the last five that he had given her, and while she was sure that she was okay without them…she was beginning to doubt that.

Paying her fare, she climbed out, waving to one of the new bodyguards as she walked by him into the club. On her way, she hadn’t missed the Jeep that was parked a couple blocks away—it was coated in mud after all—and she felt worse knowing that Luka was here. Since the night he’d left her apartment, she had made it a point to avoid him at all costs, dodging his calls, too. It wasn’t as though she were staying at her apartment anyway, so it wasn’t hard for her to get away from him.

Hiding. That was what she was doing, and a part of her knew that it was silly of her to do so. She didn’t owe him anything, nor did she have to explain her actions, but she couldn’t ignore the fact that seeing the way he looked at her made her feel ashamed.

But not enough to stop what she was doing.

Even now, she yearned to head across the city to the one place she really didn’t need to be, to see the one person who was the worst thing for her. But could he really be considered the worst when, at least for a few hours, she felt better? In those hours, she didn’t think about the life she’d been born into, the things she’d had to prove, or even the things she had to do to stay in his company. It wasn’t as if money was a problem. She could have easily paid him any amount he asked for, and then some, but he didn’t want that, not from her.

Maybe he thought he was corrupting her and got off on the idea of that, but it was hard to corrupt something that was already decaying.

Alex easily made her way toward the back of the club where the offices were and readied to open Mishca’s door, but the muffled voices on the other side gave her pause.

_____

With the boss and Lauren back from their honeymoon, Luka was needed for a quick meeting so he could discuss business and everything that had happened up until this point. Normally, he would have made it a point to ask what they had done, annoy the hell out of Mishca like he usually did, but after he picked them up from the airport, dropping Lauren off at home, he just wasn’t feeling it. Not when his mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Alex.

The first couple of days after he’d confronted her had been fine—it wouldn’t be the first time she’d gotten pissed at him and not called him for a few days—but nearly a week and a half had passed and still no word from her.

Even when his phone wasn’t ringing, he found himself picking it up, willing it to beep or anything just so he could know she was okay. Breaking into her apartment hadn’t helped much, not when she wasn’t staying there, or at least she hadn’t been there when he had come by. This wouldn’t have been a problem if he had any idea where to find her.

As Mishca spoke about business transactions that needed to be completed, Luka was gazing down at his phone, reading the last message Alex had sent him before painful truths had tore them apart.

Hey Tiger, eat any frosted flakes?

That had been her version of a good morning, and while she might not have known that he didn’t eat cereal, it never failed to make him smile. This message was sent weeks ago, before Mishca had pretty much told him to stay away from her, before she’d seen the hickey on his neck and the resulting hurt on her face. He’d never given much thought to how much he looked forward to those messages, at least not until they were gone.

He missed them, and the way she would smile at him, as if he was the only person in the world who could make her do it.

A part of him craved falling into that temptation, giving her exactly what she wanted. It wasn’t because of what Mishca said that made him not go there, but rather because of who he was and the damage it would cause if she knew the real reason as to how he ended up in New York at all.

“Luka!”

He blinked, focusing back on the now irritated Russian in front of him. Storing his phone in his pocket, he folded his hands in his lap and finally focused on what Mishca was saying.

“Were you even listening?”

“No.”

There was something particularly unsettling about the way Mishca was looking at him, but Luka paid it no mind.

“The Gilded Room, shut it down.”

Now, Luka was blinking in surprise. “Do what now?”

“I don’t think I need to repeat myself. I’ll have our banker set up accounts for each of them. Keep me updated.”

Luka stood, stretching his arms above his head. “Will do.”

He was heading for the door, more than a little ready to get out of there. Whether Alex wanted to continue hiding from him was no longer going to matter. Even if she didn’t want him to, he would find her, but Mishca stopped him at the door.

“Where the hell is my car?”

It was the one question that Luka had been hoping would go unasked because the Mercedes was gone for the moment. He’d taken it to a body shop to be fixed, not realizing that the damage done to the front of it was too extensive to fix without the price being exuberant.