The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(22)

“Alex left to pick my mom up from the hotel,” Lauren said as she swept her hair up, pinning it in place. “They’re looking into catering and all that.”

She’d been up for a few hours, getting ready for when they were to leave, but it didn’t seem like Mishca was in any rush to get moving.

He grumbled something unintelligible, not sounding too happy that he was being woken up.

“We should get going,” she urged him, touching his side. “Remember all those errands you said you needed to run?”

He reached out blindly for her, pulling her down on top of him. “Ten minutes.”

“Babe, ten minutes is never ten minutes with you.”

His lips turned up at the corners, but he made no move to get up. She trailed her hand down his chest, lifting up enough that she could wrap her hand around him, his erection growing almost immediately.

“We could stay here,” Lauren whispered, and she could tell Mishca was amendable to that idea, “but Ross said he wanted to stop by and maybe spend some time with us.”

She couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh as he grabbed her hand and stopped her movements, his erection wilting.

“Fine, I’m up.”



“I thought you would like it here,” Mishca commented as he held the door open to the café where they’d met.

When they’d first gotten into the car, Mishca had been rather quiet about where they were going, but Lauren didn’t mind, especially not when they had pulled onto this street.

“And you’re wearing white. This should be fun.”

Once they had ordered and were seated at the table where they’d had their first conversation, and Mishca began texting away on his blackberry, it was almost laughable how one innocent morning had brought them to this point.

“Do you think we would be here if I hadn’t made the first move?” Lauren asked innocently, looking over at the giant sign that still had the signature names of the drinks in different colored chalk.

“If by first move you mean throwing a cup of coffee on me, perhaps not. I don’t think it would have had the same affect if I’d done that to you.”

True enough.

He reached for her cup without a second thought and she bit her lip, knowing that he wasn’t going to like it. He preferred his unsweetened with only a touch of creamer.

Taking a swallow, his entire face scrunched up as he lurched to the side, nearly spitting it back out as he cleared his throat loudly, earning confused stares from the people seated around them.

“What the hell did you put in this?”

She laughed, retrieving her cup. “Don’t knock my drink, Mish.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said earnestly…but his lips twitched. “If it were actually a drink and not liquid sugar.”

“So, what’s on the agenda for the day?”

“Clubs. Bank. Surprise.”

“In that order?”

He nodded, glancing down at his watch. “Yes. We should get going, don’t want to be late.”

The first stop was 221 where they picked up the week’s deposits. The renovations had finally been completed and the club was now back to its former glory, maybe even better than it was before.

Next, they went to Mishca’s newest investment, one that he had kept a secret for reasons she didn’t understand until they arrived. It was a prime piece of real estate, located in one of the hottest spots in New York City. Outside, workers were busy using a crane, hoisting up a giant letter to fit onto the front of the building that would ultimately be the name of the place.

Just one letter, one that was enough to tell Lauren everything she needed to know about the secret he had been keeping from her.

L.

It could have stood for anything, but Lauren was not dense enough to think it wasn’t meant for her.

“Trying to send a message there, Mish?” Lauren asked as they ventured inside and she saw, for the first time, what he had been working on for months now.

There wasn’t much inside—they were still a couple of months from opening after all—but from what she could see, there were similar elements to his other club.

“I thought you would be flattered.”

“I am, really.” A little taken aback by the gesture, a better description, but she didn’t tell him that. “It’s not a tattoo, of course.” She touched one of the stars on her chest, smiling when he did the same. “But it’ll do.”

He gave her a tour of the place, introducing her to some of the people that would be working there…mostly girls. She was immediately brought back to a time when she’d wondered about the effect he had on girls, and how they flocked to them, but there was something reassuring about the way he only had eyes for her.

By the time they left—far later than Mishca had planned—the bank was nearing closing time, but they made an exception for Mishca.

Lauren was used to him getting five-star treatment wherever they went, and had stopped getting surprised by it, but she wasn’t as surprised by the treatment at the workers’ behavior as opposed to surprised at what she found in Mishca’s safety deposit box.

The manager had already taken his leave, giving them the privacy Mishca had asked for. He didn’t seem to notice her watching him as he pulled out stacks of bills from the large blue bag, placing them in the vault where more money was stacked.