In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(27)

Our usual spot on Wed, yes?

She smiled, already feeling too excited at the prospect, texting back an affirmative. Lauren couldn’t keep the stupid grin off her face.





Chapter Nine:


The First Time


Three weeks came and went as Lauren adjusted to her new life in New York, balancing work, school, and her time spent with Mishca. Since their date, they had gone out two more times, following a sort of routine mot mornings before her classes.

They met up at the cafe and whoever was there first—more than likely Mishca—would grab the coffee, then together they walked to her class before he was u=off to work for his club.

Today was no different.

Mishca was waiting for her at their usual table, typing away on his phone. It was moments like these that made Lauren smile. It wasn’t the fact that he always looked amazing without trying, but because she knew he traveled all the way from Manhattan just to meet her.

She had learned of it one morning when he was running late, complaining about the ever present traffic.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, Lauren crossed over to Mishca’s side. “Why do you look so serious?”

The furrow in his brow disappeared as he handed over her drink. Grabbing the seat of her chair, the muscles in his bicep grew taut as he pulled her over, draping his arm across the back. He showed her the screen of his phone.

Alex: The ballet gala is like next week. Not optional, I want to see you. Oh, and bring the girlfriend. I want to meet her. :)

“Ballet gala?” Lauren asked looking up at him.

“My sister was going to a special school in France for ballet. Sadly, she’s moving back. Since dance is her thing, we always attend the annual gala here.”

“That sounds…fun? You don’t sound very excited about it.”

“Because it’s the most boring thing I have ever attended, but my sister loves it so I have no choice.” He smiled canting is head to the side. “I would be honored if you would accompany me.”

“How can I say no to an invitation like that.”

Lauren looked to the front of the cafe, noticing the same man that was always waiting outside when they were here, following them at what he probably presumed was a discreet distance when Mishca walked her to class.

“Do you know him?” She asked nodding her head in the man’s direction.

Mishca followed her gaze. “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Mishca led her out the cafe, waving to get the man’s attention. He didn’t look alarmed that they were nearing him, though his eyes did flicker to Mishca for a brief second before settling on Lauren.

“Lauren, meet my right hand, Vlad.”

He was several years older than Mishca with angular features. He had gleaming ebony strands, pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck.

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Lauren,” he greeted with the thickest accent she had ever heard.

She smiled and poke, “Just Lauren.”

Mishca grinned. “She made you.”

It wasn’t very hard, Vlad was a big man. As they started for her class, Lauren kept the conversation going with Vlad since he stayed by their side instead of walking behind them. Lost in conversation, none of them noticed the photographer across the street snapping shots of them.

***

Lauren peered up at the gym, Knockdown, stepping out of the toasty cab as she reread the address Mishca had given her. The front of the warehouse was made of windows, allowing a clear view of the welcome desk, but not the interior of the gym.

Paying the cabbie, she stepped onto the curb, loosening her scarf as she entered the humid building. Despite the chilly temperature outside, it felt like summer inside, the sweltering heat nearly suffocating. The sounds of fists and feet connecting with sand filled bags carried around the large space, but a wall with trophies and certificates prevented view into the gym.

A brunette wearing dark purple lipstick sat behind the front desk, her legs kicked up on the top in platform boots. She was dressed entirely in black, despite the heat in the place, with a dog collar fixed tightly around her neck. She hardly acknowledged Lauren’s approach as she thumbed through a magazine about tattoos.

Lauren took a moment to look around, hoping she could find her own way without disturbing the girl, but when she didn’t find any signs pointing her in the right direction, she stepped up. “Hi, could you tell me where the fight’s going to be?”

Blowing a bubble with her gum, the unfriendly receptionist rolled her eyes, pointing behind her without looking up.

Okay…

Lauren walked around the barrier—feeling stupid for not having realized it at first—until she could see the entirety of the warehouse. There was a large octagon ring in the center, rows of punching bags hanging from hooks in the ceiling, and a spot for weightlifting over against the West wall. Most of the floor was covered in green square mats where men, and some women, were grappling on the floor.

She tried to find Mishca amongst the sweaty bodies, but it was hard to see clear faces with the crowd surrounding the octagon. In her brief look around, Lauren hadn’t noticed the two guys inside, circling one another, both wearing knee length shorts.

One had a buzzed head, tattoos covering the majority of his torso and back. His shorts were white with black flames, and the mouthguard protecting his teeth was also white with a word written across it that Lauren couldn’t make out from her distance.