In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(71)

They weren’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last.

Why the hell had Anya sent him in here? His father didn’t look worried so the investigation—or why ever the men were there—wasn’t progressing and they had no evidence because if they had, SWAT would have swarmed this place.

For a women used to their way of life, Anya was panicking for no apparent reason.

“I’m going back into the city.”

He’d made that decision a moment ago, an excuse for why he was interrupting their meeting, but while he was there, he could stop by Lauren’s apartment and see if she was back yet.

It couldn’t hurt.

“Oh, is Lauren back from Michigan?”

“She—”

“Thompson? Lauren Thompson?” The cop asked with an edge to his voice.

Mishca looked at him in surprise, wondering how he could possibly know her. He doubted Mikhail would have kept that from him if he was aware.

Ross, he thought, finally putting the pieces together. He vaguely remembered Lauren mentioning someone by that name. Of course she hadn’t mentioned him beaching a cop because she had no reason to confide that.

“You know her?” Mikhail asked.

Okay, it did seem as though Mikhail knew about Lauren’s relationship with the detective, but why not mention it before now?

Detective Ross turned murderous eyes on Mishca, the look he had grown accustomed to over the years, but he had more important things to worry about than if the man liked him or not.

This was why Mikhail had wanted him to check her out. Although he doubted she was working secretly for the feds, if this—whatever this was—turned into something more, she had the potential to do damage. There wan’t anything damaging she could say, but it was the omissions that might potentially hurt them.

If they asked her about the Thursdays he spent in meetings, or who she had seen around, it would be enough to launch an investigation that would only agitate his father. And if Mikhail were agitated, people died.

“I believe it would be best if your son stayed away from Lauren until this investigation is over.”

Mishca bristled at the authority the man thought he commanded over him. “I’m not under investigation, detective,” Mishca said looking him over, letting the man know he didn’t intimidate him in the least.

He was already on the razor’s edge with everything going on with Lauren, and he didn’t have time for a small town cop to f*ck with him.

Once they were gone, Mishca shoved a hand through his hair, preparing himself for the backlash from his father.

“You do know what this means, yes?” Mikhail asked when they were alone again.

His heart began beating faster, his mind already going to worst possible outcome there was. This was no longer about his relationship with her, but about his position in the Bratva and what he would do to protect it.

“She is not a threat, Pakhan. She told me about the detective.” In part.

“Anya, she tells me that you do not think clearly when it comes to this girl, that you are letting your emotions lead you.”

Mikhail showed him another set of surveillance photos, these of Lauren in a diner with the detective. They were shot far off, but he could see that she was happy.

“Do you know what these tell me, Mishca?” He asked tapping the stack. “It tells me that Anya may not be wrong.”

“Allow me to talk with her first,” he said as close to begging as he could get. “I will see what she knows.”

“Not only that, but you will sever all contact with this girl. I was willing to accept her because of her father and because you cared for her, but no longer. This ends tonight. Eto moy prekaiz.”

He couldn’t argue, knowing that was the best offer he was going to get and if he had to never see her again for her to live, he would grudgingly accept it.

Mikhail stood. “I believe we should handle this now.”

Time was up.





Chapter twenty-Three:


Scathing Breakups and Cold Facts


Lauren could count on one hand the number of times Ross was upset with her to the point that he started yelling.

Once when she was twelve and went down to the lake by herself in the middle of the night, making her mom panic so bad that she called the police station in a panic, launching a search party that consisted of nearly the entire town. Another, when she skipped in high school and just happened to end up at the same diner Ross was having coffee in.

But those times were nothing like the anger pulsating out of Ross now. When she’d heard the persistent banging at the front door, she thought to ignore it at first, knowing that no one she knew would be keeping up this kind of noise in the middle of the night, but Ross yelled her name from the other side, making her feel like a child in trouble though she had no idea what she had done.

He stormed inside, his face red, his eyes bulging as he spun on her. “Have you lost your mind?”

Taken aback, she shook her head, closing the door behind him. “What did I do?”

“Mishca Volkov!” The way he said it, like the name in itself was a curse made her shrink back from his fury, but not in fear.

“How do you know, Mish?” She narrowed her eyes on him. “Have you been keeping tabs on me?”

That seemed to only make him angrier. “This is not a joke, young lady. Do you have any idea who you’re involved with? Who his father is?”