The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(103)

Straightening, Mishca turned, ready to get out of there, but Mikhail always had to have the last words.

“You will never be me.”

“You’re right about that—I won’t. I’m worse. Be careful what you wish for.”



When he returned home, Lauren was waiting up for him, a resigned look on her face. It still baffled his mind sometimes, the way she could read a situation and know exactly what was going on.

“Can I see it? She asked, sounding like she expected him to deny the request.

Nodding once, he carefully drew up his shirt, mindful of his new tattoo, until he had his shirt off. Her eyes softened when they fell to the bullet wound on his chest, but soon clouded with confusion at the absence of the new mark that was meant to be there.

Before she could ask, he turned, giving her his back. She was climbing off the bed, her soft steps bringing her closer to him. Instead of placing the cross on his chest as was customary, it was placed on his back since it was still too early for his chest due to his wounds. It was temporary, Mishca believed, until he was able to receive the cross on his chest.

“I know what it is,” she said carefully, “but what does it mean for you?”

“With Mikhail going to Russia, I have to take his place.” That was the easiest way for him to explain it to her.

She blinked, her lips parting as that sank in. “You’re the new Pakhan.”

He nodded.

Lauren took a step back, her eyes straying to the cross constantly as though she was trying to will it away. But it would always be there, and with came more responsibility, more danger, and a far different life in general, but if she had accepted him before, she would have to accept this now.

“Is this what you want?”

In some ways, it was what he wanted. He liked being able to govern his own life for once, making the rules and keeping order, but he also feared that power, knowing what it could do to men.

It was a chance he was going to have to take.

“It is.”

She reached for his hands, twining their fingers together. She gave him a shaky smile, making sure he saw the sincerity in her eyes. “We’ll figure it out together, yes? Wherever this road takes us.”

To this, he nodded and kissed her knuckles. “We will.”





the tarmac on a private airfield in the middle of nowhere. It was only the two of them, Mishca and Lauren in the back of the town car, waiting for Mikhail to appear. Mishca hadn’t wanted to drive, though Lauren hadn’t known why. Really, she didn’t know why she was there, thinking that Mishca might have wanted to be alone with him, especially with what he had told her.

All morning he had shared everything with her, not sparing a detail of what was happening with Mikhail, with the Bratva, and what he expected in the future. She was glad that he had, and she had even shared her feelings on it all.

Now, she believed they were stronger than ever.

Lauren looked over to him, hoping to gauge some sense of his mood, but she couldn’t read anything in his expression. “Are you okay?”

He nodded without looking at her, but did reach across the space between them to take her hand, bringing it up to his lips, pressing them against her knuckles.

Finally, another car rolled in, Mikhail climbing out of the back of it. He no longer had the two giant goons following him, nor did he have that proud air about him. Now, he just looked like an older man going on a trip.

On the afternoon news some hours from now, a few of his associates would be confessing to the murders of the twenty-one people in The Den, naming him as their contractor. Not only did Mishca have the files of Mikhail’s past crimes, but he had pretty much guaranteed that Mikhail would never return here if only for fear of prosecution.

“I can stay here while you talk to him,” Lauren suggested as the passenger door was opened by their driver.

“Nonsense. We’re a package deal, remember?”

And he was making a point to Mikhail that despite all of his best efforts, they were still standing together.

Mishca stepped out first, extending his hand to Lauren. Mikhail seemed to only have eyes for her as they approached which would have normally made her nervous, but it was different knowing that he was being exiled to Russia.

“Come to see me off?” Mikhail asked by way of introduction.

Mishca regarded his father. “We thought it was only right considering you brought us together.”

“I would not have extended you the same curtesy.”

This hadn’t been what Lauren was expecting. It didn’t really feel like a send-off, but of two men still fighting for power. But there was no way for Mikhail to win this, and he knew that.

“Be careful out there, boy. It is an unforgiving world we live in..”

Nodding, Mishca extended his hand to Mikhail. “Have a safe trip.”

Accepting it, Mikhail then turned to Lauren. “Take care of him, young Lauren. He will need you.”

Mikhail left them standing there, boarding the plane, the door closing behind him.

Lauren reached for Mishca’s hand, twining her fingers with his as they watched the plane take off into the air. One by one, every obstacle they had faced in their relationship dropped out of their lives.

Now—besides Mishca’s new obligations to the Bratva—there was nothing standing in their way.