The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(34)

Lauren laughed, already in a better mood. This was what she had wanted, something light-hearted, and overall good vibes.

“You’ve brought out the best in him, and I couldn’t be more honored to have you join the family, but not just you. Your family and friends are amazing as well, and while our side can be a bit off the wall—”

“Hey!” Luka shouted from his end, indignantly.

“We’re glad to have you. Cheers to you and Mish.”

This time, the toast was far more relaxed, and everyone drank to that, but Mishca wasn’t appeased. Not by a long shot.

He drained his glass and grabbed his jacket from the back of his chair, walking behind Lauren to kiss the top of her head.

In her ear, he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Turning away, he shrugged on his jacket, growling something at Mikhail that she couldn’t hear. They all left—Mishca, Vlad, Luka, Mikhail, and his security. If it was not for Vlad and Luka going with him, Lauren would have been afraid of what mishca would do.

Lauren was afraid to know what her side was thinking after this, but when she looked over at them, Tristan was shaking his head, his different colored eyes glinting with mischief.

“You had to go marry into a crazy ass Russian family, didn’t you?”

Even Alex laughed.



Mishca kept a straight face the entire way from the dining hall to just outside the restaurant. He had gotten better at that, learning how to control his appearance when he couldn’t control his temper, but once Mikhail was on the sidewalk with him, away from the eyes of everyone inside, Mishca didn’t hold back.

He had just grabbed hold of the front of Mikhail’s shirt, ready to tear into him when he was hauled back by Vlad, Mikhail’s security quickly moving in as though they wanted to grab Mishca too. Luka, not caring that they were in public—despite the street being empty—pulled out two guns from behind his back, pointing one at each of their heads. The stopped immediately. It was no secret that he had a twitchy trigger finger.

“What the f*ck was that?” Mishca demanded. “Are you trying to go to war with me, potomu chto ya gotov dlya odnogo—because I’m ready for one.”

Mishca had warned him what he would do if he came near Lauren again, and this stunt he pulled definitely counted in Mishca’s eyes.

“You are a fool,” Mikhail said to him, fire in his eyes. “What do you really expect to come of this? Happiness? Fulfillment? I live for the day you regret this decision. I long for it. Then you will know that there is nothing more for you in this life besides those damned stars you were given.”

“Have you gone soft in the head?” Mishca asked him seriously, struggling to reign in his temper. “Because you married a whore, the rest of us have to be miserable?”

Mikhail laughed joyfully. “They are all whores, boy. You will learn.”

Mishca pushed Vlad’s hands off of him as he boldly walked forward, not caring of Mikhail’s goons since Luka had them under control.

“Call her that again and it will be the last thing you ever say.”

The threat hung in the air between them, and maybe once, Mikhail might have called his bluff, but even if he didn’t want to admit it aloud, a part of him knew that Mishca was more than happy to deliver on it.

When he just stood there, Mishca took a step back, smoothing a hand over the front of his jacket. “Don’t show up tomorrow. I don’t want to see your face.”

He brushed by him, making sure that his shoulder brushed his as he walked back into the restaurant, hearing Luka and Vlad on his heels.

“I didn’t even get to shoot anything,” Luka complained, holstering his weapons.

Vlad shook his head. “You were not supposed to have weapons here.

Luka smirked at him, patting him down, jumping back when Vlad made to grab him. “Don’t act like you don’t have anything on you, you big bastard.”



“Twelve hours,” Lauren said with a smile as they stood outside her hotel room after a long, but reasonably wonderful night.

When Mishca and the others had come back in, sans Mikhail, things had returned to normal. Mishca had even made a point to pull Susan to the side to talk with her privately. Neither had been willing to share their conversation with Lauren and Ross, but Susan seemed to be in a better mood after.

He reached for her hand, tracing her knuckles. “Took long enough.”

“Nobody to blame but yourself, Mish. Don’t forget, you were with Rebecca when we first met.”

Mishca laughed, rubbing his eyes. “Don’t remind me. I can still remember the look on your face when she spilled her food on you.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” she said, joining in his laughter. “You’re the one who decided to tell her you were interested in me. I mean, great date night conversation, Mish. I’m surprised I didn’t take a drink to the face too.”

“That wasn’t how the conversation went, but that’s besides the point. I believe that everything that happened, happened for a reason.”

“Yea.” She wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his chest. “It was what brought us here, I think.”

“Of course.”

She arched up to kiss his cheek. “We really should get to bed. We have an early morning tomorrow.”