The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(20)

“Oh, Mish,” Alex called as she stuck her head out to peer at them. “What’s my timeline?”

“Two weeks.”

“What?” Lauren and Alex both parroted.

But they had heard him correctly as he repeated, “Two weeks.”

“That’s not enough time,” Alex said aghast, just as Lauren said, “That’s so soon.”

“Plus, it doesn’t give me enough time to get everything in order.”

“Fine.” Mishca amended his earlier words. “Four weeks.”

“Two months.”

“Four weeks.”

“Fine!”

“Do I get a say?” Lauren asked dryly.

Mishca and Alex both said, “No.”

Lauren threw her hands up, knowing she would never be able to voice her opinion with the two of them. As Alex retreated back to her room, presumably to get dressed, Lauren turned to Mishca wit another concern.

“Shouldn’t we talk about a budget or something?” Lauren asked as she settled against his side, turning the card he’d given her over in her hands, staring down at his rather legible signature across the back of it.

“No.”

“No? What do you mean, no?”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want.”

“Mish—” He gave her a hard stare. “Thank you.”

Kissing the top of her head, he inclined his head to Amber and Alex, then he was gone.

“I’m ready!” Alex declared, her blonde hair pulled up into a ponytail, a pen behind her ear, a three ring binder under her arm.

“What are you doing today anyway?” Mishca asked after he kissed Lauren’s forehead.

“Every girl’s dream,” Lauren said though she didn’t really sound all that enthused, “Shopping for a wedding dress.”



On every wedding show Lauren had ever watched, the brides-to-be always went through multiple dresses before they found the one, and normally that was followed by tears of joy. Lauren didn’t know if she would experience anything like that, or if she would get that grand epiphany that most had, but she was excited, if not a little nervous about the whole experience.

They entered the boutique on Fifth Avenue Alex insisted they go to. One floor was designated for wedding dresses alone, another for bridesmaid gowns, and another for alterations. Since it would cost a fortune to have her dress altered if she needed it—although Mishca was footing the bill—Susan had already volunteered her services.

The windows in front provided plenty of natural lighting, making the space appear brighter and bigger thanks to the white walls and offsetting black fixtures. There were a few parties waiting off to the side, their eagerness palpable.

While hey were looking forward to this with giddy excitement, Lauren wasn’t sure what she was feeling.

They had only been waiting for a few minutes at most when a woman came walking towards them.

“Good morning, I’m Mariah Lawrence. I’ll be working with you. Who do we have here today?” The consultant was a plump, middle-aged woman with a warm smile and a kind personality.

Lauren introduced her to everybody—their small party consisting of Lauren, Alex, Amber, and Susan.

“Can you tell me what you’re looking for today?”

Everyone was looking at her expectantly, leaving Lauren at a loss for words. She really had no idea what kind of fit she was looking for.

Noticing this, Mariah suggested, “How about I bring out a few different styles, then we can get a more precise idea about what you like and dislike.”

“Sounds good.”

Lauren followed her back to a private room, stripping out her clothes and putting on one of the white robes as she waited for Mariah to get back. Up until she put on the first dress, it didn’t feel real to her, not until she saw her reflection.

This was it. She was really getting married to the love of her life.

“What do you think of this one?” Mariah asked as she stepped back.

It was absolutely stunning, with a beaded corset bodice and puffy skirt, but Lauren didn’t think it was for her. “We can show them, see what they think.”

Before Lauren even made back to where they were waiting, they caught sight of her, their faces lighting up.

“I like it!” Alex spoke up first.

Laughing, Lauren said, “I thought you would.”

“What do you think of it?” Susan asked.

“It’s pretty.”

“But…”

“Maybe something a little more form-fitting.” Lauren smoothed the front of the dress, though there was nothing she could do to tame the bottom half. “Like, I like the top, but I kind of want the same thing at the bottom. Maybe a train?”

“Okay, we can do that. Let’s get you changed.”

Seven dresses later, they were no closer to finding Lauren’s dress than when they’d started. She felt that familiar unease creeping in, worrying that she might not find the dress. It might have been easier if she had more time, but since the wedding was only a few weeks away—and Susan would still need time to make alterations—she felt like she needed to find a dress today.

Lauren was alone in the dressing room, waiting for Mariah to get back when there was a knock at the door.