In the Beginning (Volkov Bratva #1)(88)

“As I said.” He glared over at Anya. “I’ve never mentioned anything incriminating. Yes, she has her suspicions—only after that detective came here. She never mentioned me to him.”

“You were careless.”

“Enough, Anya.” Mikhail drummed his fingers on his desk, looking at his son. “Viktor answered for his part in this. Now, you have to answer for your part as well.”

A tick started in Mishca’s jaw. “What are you saying?”

“You know the answer to that, Mishca,” Anya said with mock sympathy, more than eager to get this over with.

Anya never had any misconceptions about her relationship with Mishca. Before she had Aleksandra, he tended to avoid her, preferring to spend his time with the nannies and even that dreadful doctor. Maybe he knew about her relationship with Mikhail before his mother’s death and that warped his relationship with her, but as long as she had his father’s heart, she had the most power.

As long as the truth didn’t come out…

“I’m not going to kill her,” Mishca said with absolute conviction.

She sneered at him. “It’s not optional.”

His unease morphed into anger as he turned years worth of hatred on her. “I don’t answer to you, remember your place.”

Gasping, she looked to Mikhail. “You will allow him to speak to me like this?”

“If you would excuse us, my love.”

Anya didn’t budge. “I don’t—”

“That means leave. Now.”

Sensing the agitation in Mikhail’s voice, Anya wisely stood, smoothing a hand over her hair though there wasn’t a strand out of place, and left the office. She didn’t go far, staying there to press her ear against the door, trying to discern their muffled conversation.

It was difficult and her frustration only mounted, at least until she caught the end of it. For a moment, she had worried whether or not Mikhail would side with her, but she shouldn’t have worried.

The door swung open before Anya could move away, a fuming Mishca standing there. In that moment, he looked just like his father, but for entirely different reasons. Mikhail was ruthless in his pursuit of power and often had no mercy, but Mishca was showing this ruthlessness, not for power, but for a simple girl.

How could anyone love another this much?

He stormed past her and if she were a better person, she might not have gloated, but when she got her way, Anya had to let everyone know.

“I’m sure you will find another one of her, Mishca. She wasn’t anything special.”

He spun around so quickly that she had no time to move away before his hand was around her throat, thrusting her back against the wall.

“One of these days, gryaznaya shlyukha, my father will grow tired of you.” She tried to pull free, but he held strong, squeezing her jaw hard enough to make her wince.

“And when he does,” he went on, jerking her face up so she was looking at him. “I will enjoy nothing more than putting a bullet in your brain because I hate loose ends.”

He shoved her away, stalking away. It wasn’t until he was out of sight that she took a deep breath, rubbing at her sore throat. When this was all over, she was going to have Mikhail exile the little bastard far away from her.





Chapter twenty-Nine:


Answers


Days turned into weeks as Lauren tried her best to avoid Mishca and anyone involved with him. Sure, New York was a big place, but the police had made her a bit paranoid that she might run into him. She constantly looked over her shoulder, some days spotting menacing looking men in black following her, but they never came too close to her, like they were just letting her know she was being watched.

Ross was out of the hospital, staying at a hotel, constantly guarded by the NYPD, just in case anyone tried to pay him a visit. Despite Lauren’s protesting, a squad car was parked outside her brownstone.

She was nearly healed, her bruises faded to slightly discolored marks, but she could still feel the hits when she was alone at night, like ghost fists were pummeling her face.

It only worsened when she thought of Mishca.

Now, sitting in the living room, waiting for Amber to get back with the food, Lauren tried to wrap her mind around the double life she now knew he led.

He hadn’t denied it when she questioned him—though she hadn’t given him much opportunity to say anything—but his silence was answer enough. With the way they described the Vory v Zakone, she expected someone ruthless, power hungry, but she hadn’t see it…not in Mishca.

In hindsight, she could see it in Mikhail and Viktor, their mannerisms, the way they carried themselves. It would also explain Mishca’s disappearances every Thursday. She had spent time researching it, learning every thing she could about the secretive organization. To her surprise, there wasn’t much on them.

She found the set of rules, a mandate that they followed though parts of it seemed to contradict with the men she was dealing with. Like the thieves-in-law not having a family. Mikhail had a wife and children, and from what Lauren had seen, it didn’t seem like he had forsaken Mishca.

Besides the rules, there was hardly anything of value on the internet. There was plenty on other criminals, and there were even mentions of other Russian Mob bosses, but she found nothing on Mikhail and the rest of the Volkovs. She didn’t know whether they were just Russian Mob in name, or if there was never enough evidence gathered against them to build a case.