The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(25)

While she might not have been in the OCD for long, she had worked for the New York field office for a little over ten years, and was known for her unwavering ability to get her man. Since she brought in results, her superiors often looked the other way when she skirted the edge of the law to bring down the deadly criminals she sought, though it was doubtful they would continue to do so if they knew just how far she strayed.

But that was just how she worked.

She was attractive and she didn’t fool herself into believing that the only reason others thought she had her own task force was because she looked great in a skirt. She had worked her ass off to get where she was and she wasn’t going to let anyone or anything stand in her way.

In a room full of men, she stood out, and was often overlooked just because of her gender. Because of this, she tried to stay up on her work, and made sure she was one step ahead of her colleagues.

“How fairs the case against the Russians?” Taylor was a man that took his job seriously, and expected results.

“We’ve made progress. I am confident within the next three months, we will have enough evidence to prosecute,” she lied effortlessly.

Taylor rapped his fingers against his desk, looking skeptical. “We’ve received credible intelligence that the problem between the Russians and Albanians is escalating. Your man, what has he reported?”

Agent Green cleared her throat, refusing to fidget under his stare. There was no reason for her to be intimidated. “We have it under control. I expect a call later this week.”

“Keep me up to date.”

Nodding, Green left his office.

What her superior didn’t know was that her contact in the Volkov Bratva was not supplying as much information as he was supposed to. In the beginning, when he’d first infiltrated, he checked in every opportunity he was able, but now, she was lucky to get intel from him once a month.

After the shooting at the club, she had already made her decision to pull him out—another reason why she made her appearance there—but he had asked for more time, wanting to get as much information as he could to take them all down, at least that was the reason he had given her. She doubted there was any more information he could get after being with them for so long, but she permitted it, thinking of the lovely corner office she would get once this case was done and the Volkov Bratva was in shambles.



Lauren knew that it wasn’t going to always be sunshine while planning a quick wedding, but she didn’t realize just how stressed out she was going to get from it all. Though she had appointed Susan and Alex in charge of everything, she was still getting constant phone calls for last minute details, and it seemed like it would never end.

She was currently laying with a pillow over her head, her phone ringing on the dresser beside her. Ten minutes of peace, that was all she needed. Once the shrill sound tapered off, she breathed a sigh of relief.

…If only for a moment.

Almost immediately, it started right back up again. Lauren thought about pulling her hair out, until she thought of the one thing that would have solved her problem hours ago.

She turned off the damn sound.

It was such a simple concept, yet it hadn’t crossed her mind until just then. Now that she was free from it, she could take an hour to herself.



Lauren didn’t know how long she had ignored her phone as she lost herself in her book but the sound of a slamming door drew her out of it. Reaching for her phone, she winced when she noticed the numerous missed calls, especially when the majority of them were from Mishca. She had promised to always answer when he called, or at the very least, text a response.

While he might not have worried initially, after the kidnapping, she knew it worried him more.

As he burst into the room, for a split second, there was relief in his eyes as he scanned her from head to toe, but that was quickly replaced with anger since she was awake and had her phone in her hand.

Yea, she could understand how that might look.

“Why weren’t you answering your phone?” He barked at her, shutting the door behind him.

Maybe it was the fact that he was snapping at her, or because she was just tired, but she wasn’t in the mood for his attitude, and she let him know that.

“I didn’t know I needed to after talking to you like a couple hours ago.”

“Six hours ago, Lauren,” he said, his voice rising. “Alex called me in a panic because you weren’t answering!”

“I haven’t left the house, Mish!” She shouted back sitting up. “I just wanted a damn hour to myself without having to worry about whether I want a tall centerpiece or a small one.”

She was so irritated that she didn’t see Mishca reaching for her until he had already snagged her ankle, dragging her to the foot of the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

But he didn’t answer her, instead showing her with his actions. He tugged on her pants, stripping them off of her in just moments. His intention was clear, making all the fight drain out of her as his hand moved between her legs, his fingers brushing over the center of her panties.

Every protest she could think of died away, her attention too focused on the way he pulled the delicate lace to the side, using his fingers to rub against her.

“You’re stressed, yes?” He asked, making her feel like his gaze was burning into her the way he was staring so intently at her face.