Hidden Monsters (Volkov Bratva #4)(21)



Every time she thought of him, or even read his name, she thought about the way Natasha had looked the other night, that smugness still grating on her nerves. Alex wished it didn’t matter to her, wished Luka didn’t matter to her. Hell, there were some days when she didn’t even know why she liked him at all.

He was more than a little arrogant, had the sense of humor of a thirteen-year-old virgin, and when he was in the mood, was a complete and total bastard…but, other times he was thoughtful, careful with her feelings, and always made it a point to treat her like she mattered.

Even when she wished he wouldn’t, he made it a point to check in on her.

Those days, he made her feel special, not just because of her paternal line, but also because of her.

Alex was just about to end her night with a nice bottle of vodka when her phone chimed again. This time when she picked it up, she was surprised to see a text from Snow. Swiping her finger across the screen, her eyes roamed over the message.

It was only two words, a smiling emoticon following it, but they were enough to spring Alex from her momentary funk.

Wanna party?

She thought of the pills she’d taken the last time she was with him, how everything had ceased to exist for that short while. Even if the high didn’t last long, she was definitely going to enjoy it more this time. But she really wasn’t in the mood to deal with Snow. He hadn’t necessarily done anything to her, but the way he was acting made her want to avoid him altogether.

Torn, she looked down at the menus, then back to her phone.

The question was, what was she more hungry for?

She tried to rationalize it in her own head, tried to piece together what had brought her to this point. She knew what had been her breaking point—Anya—but at what point had she decided to just give up and let this take away the pain?

She was supposed to be stronger than this. The family she had come from was notorious for their ruthlessness, for the way they were able to handle any problem thrown at them. Hell, what problems they couldn’t fix with money, they fixed with brutality.

…But maybe this was one problem that couldn’t be fixed easily.

Tossing down the menus, she headed for the door and didn’t think twice about it. Soon, she wouldn’t be thinking about anything at all.

Instead of driving—not that she had any access to a car now that Mishca’s was out of commission for the time being—she hailed a cab, rattling off the address before sitting back and getting comfortable.

She wasn’t familiar with it, and she knew that it wasn’t the warehouse, but any concern for her safety was second to her need to be free.

On the way over, they drove through the city, all the lights shining down in bright arcs, illuminating the night sky. The city thrived on false promises and glorification, and at one time, she had thrived in it. Not how she was now, that was an entirely different appreciation, but back then, she had welcomed everything this city had to offer with open arms.

Back then, she’d lived more than most people did in their lifetimes. Traveling the world, having a dream career, everything waiting at her fingertips, all before her seventeenth birthday. What more could she have asked for?

But those days had been numbered, and before she could truly sink into what was supposed to be her dream life, it had all been snatched away after a single day, one in which she would never forget, even if she wanted.

Resting her head against the cool glass of the passenger window, she watched the blur of buildings, remembering when she had walked into one very much like the Hilton Garden she was passing, not expecting the heartbreak she would find in the suite on the top floor.





11

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3 1/2 years ago…





“Is there a reason why I’m here?” Alex asked softly as she and Mishca entered the lobby of the Peninsula Hotel, her heels clicking on the marble floor.

She was familiar with the place, knew her family held meetings in this very building, and had been since before she was born. She might not have ever attended one—and it wasn’t like she was privy to the inner workings of the Bratva itself since they made it a point to keep her ignorant of it all—and the fact that she was being brought here now did not inspire good feelings.

Mishca being there did help a bit, though not much since it didn’t seem like he knew why she was there any more than she did.

But he did make it a point to ease her fear with humor. “Truthfully,” he said with a forced smile, “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

They took the elevator up until they reached their floor, Mishca allowing her to walk ahead of him as a few of Mikhail’s guards stood at their entrance, opening a set of double doors with a key card one was holding.

Not only were Mikhail and Anya in the room—the latter Alex knew was here because she had been the one to call Alex with the message that Mikhail wanted her there—but Viktor as well. He might have been Alex’s uncle, but she preferred to limit the time she spent around him.

He had never done anything to her, had barely spoken ten words to her over the last five years, but something about him always put Alex on edge. It wasn’t just her. He had the tendency to act as though she didn’t exist, even when they were in the same room together.

Mishca pulled out a chair for her before claiming the seat next to it. He had lost his cool demeanor, his defenses rising as he looked to their father. “What is this?”

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