The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(33)

“No, it’s fine. It’s the rehearsal dinner.”

With a grateful look from Mishca, he stepped to the side, giving Alex his chair as a waiter brought another one for Mikhail.

Lauren glanced over at Susan, trying to read her. She forced a smile, patting Lauren’s hand where it rested on the arm of her chair.

She leaned over to whisper, “Tonight is about you and Mishca. Don’t worry about me.”

If Lauren had never told her how grateful she was that she had her, as soon as the dinner was over, she would. Oblivious to Mishca’s escalating rage, Mikhail sat, gazing out impassively at the others. It was like his presence alone had made them all shut down, sucking the life out of them.

For the next fifteen minutes or so, they all ate in tense silence, just the sound of scraping utensils along plates heard throughout the room. Even Lauren’s friends recognized that something was off now that Mikhail was there.

Lauren had only been to a couple of weddings in her lifetime, all of them when she was too young to remember many of the details, but she had never actually been to a rehearsal dinner before. She’d heard about them, of course, and knew that there would be toasts made, but she had thought that it would be the best man and the maid of honor…not the groom’s father.

When Mikhail stood, tapping his glass to get everyone’s attention, Lauren got a sinking feeling in her gut. It was something about his demeanor that told her his toast wouldn’t be nearly as carefree as what Amber might have come up with.

“I’d like to make a toast,” Luka said jumping to his feet before Mikhail could say a word of his ‘speech’, earning a groan from nearly every single person in the room.

Lauren bit back a smile at his disgruntled look. She didn’t care whether he was going to say something off the wall, just glad that he spoke up before Mikhail could. She didn’t think she was ready to hear what Mikhail had to say.

But Mikhail was not amused, his glower focused solely on Luka. “Sit down. Eto prikaz—That is an order!”

Now, it wasn’t just an awkwardness filling the room, but a healthy dose of fear as well. Maybe not Lauren’s family and friends, but everyone else knew what those words meant.

Beneath the table, Alex reached for her hand, threading their fingers together. In their world, blood hardly meant anything, and Lauren knew how abrasive Mikhail could be. She could only imagine how he’d been treating—if he even saw her—Alex since he found out about Viktor and Anya’s affair.

Lauren squeezed back, wanting to offer her any comfort she could. She sought Mishca’s gaze, wanting to convey a message to him without having to speak aloud—she didn’t want to chance Mikhail’s anger turning on her, but he was looking up at Mikhail with so much hatred in his eyes that she had to wonder how he stopped himself from lashing out at his father.

“It is not common for members of our family to marry outside of the accepted families, but my son has never been one to follow rules.”

That was met with a few awkward laughs, but it was unclear whether Mikhail meant that statement as a compliment or an insult. And that was the problem with the entirety of his speech as he went on. Lauren didn’t know whether to be offended or…no, she was offended.

“I met young Lauren some time ago, and I can tell you that she is not the same timid girl she used to be. Even my son has learned a thing or two from her, which was surprising enough since he is the elder of the two.”

Lauren gulped, placing her glass on the table, not even pretending to enjoy his speech any longer. The only reason she was still sitting at the table was because she didn’t want t make a scene. She chanced a glance over at Ross, and it was clear that he was barely restraining himself from snapping at Mikhail, Susan having a white-knuckled grip on his wrist.

It was fear, Lauren knew, that kept anyone from speaking up, and she wouldn’t have asked any of them to go up against the Pakhan for her.

Except, Mishca wasn’t anyone, and he wasn’t about to let it happen.

Mishca was on his feet in the next second, his eyes furious, his mouth open to snap something at Mikhail, but a loud crash at the end of the table made everyone turn and look in Luka’s direction. His dishes and all of his food was on the floor, like he might have knocked it over by accident, but judging from the expression on his face, it hadn’t been an accident.

“Oops. Great speech though, no?” His tone was challenging and Lauren didn’t doubt that if they weren’t in a room full of witnesses, Mikhail might have killed him on the spot.

Mikhail turned to Mishca, who was still standing, and Lauren, his glass aloft. “Welcome to the family.”

He drank first, then everyone else following suit…except for their table. Setting his empty glass on the table, Mikhail wiped his mouth, dropping his linen napkin on the table.

“Before you go,” Alex said, her voice soft at first, then growing stronger. “You should at least stay for the next toast. It’s proper etiquette.”

To be honest, Lauren didn’t care who else planned on giving one because anything would be better than what Mikhail had just said.

“Finally,” Luka started, about to climb to his feet. “I’ve been waiting—”

“Save your toast for the actual wedding,” Alex interrupted him as everyone laughed. Instead, she took over his toast. “I think it’s safe to say that I know Mishca better than anyone in this room—” She turned a smile on Lauren. “—Except for Lauren, of course. And in eighteen years, I have never seen him as happy as he is with her. I never thought I would see the day that Mish settled down with someone, especially someone as great as Lauren—I still don’t know what she’s thinking.”