The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(66)

As she walked around the corner and down the hallway, she went over what she was going to say in her head, trying to think of the best strategy to work against her own mother. No one knew her the way Alex did, including the way her mind worked.

“What are you doing?”

Alex was so used to Mishca sneaking around that she wasn’t startled by Luka’s sudden appearance behind her. She was careful though, keeping her phone out of sight as she kept her arm behind her back, turning to face him. Luka didn’t care much for personal space, and it was more than hard for her just being in his presence alone.

Forcing a smile, she shrugged, blinking up at him. “Minding my own. What about you?”

“You look like you’re planning something stupid.”

Luka was always so careful and guarded when he was around her that she couldn’t be sure whether or not he was acting so concerned because it was his job, or because he thought of her like a sister, or…something different.

She had never hid her feelings from him, even if they were unrequited, but until recently, nothing she had ever done had ever gotten him to even take a second glance at her. Now? She couldn’t get rid of him and she had no idea how she had snared his attention, though she didn’t regret that she had.

“You worry too much about me,” she said flippantly, hoping he would leave it at that.

For a second, if it could even be considered that, she thought she saw him smile, not one of the fake, sarcastic smiles that she was used to, but one that was genuine and made her heart flutter.

“Someone has to.” He said it so casually as he leaned against the doorframe that she didn’t doubt his words.

“And you? Who worries about you?”

“I worry about myself.”

“Is that enough though?” She asked, truly curious. “Doesn’t that ever get lonely?”

He shrugged, looking just past her.

But that didn’t stop her from saying, “I care about you, Luka.”

He canted his head to the side, reaching up with those scarred, tattooed fingers to brush her hair behind her ear. His hand lingered there, barely touching her, but it was enough for her to feel the heat of his palm. If possible, the space between them grew smaller as he stood straight though it didn’t appear he had moved at all.

“You know nothing about me.”

“Tell me.” It was almost a plea…almost. “Something, anything. I don’t care.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Alex,” he commanded, effectively changing the subject. “Boss wouldn’t want you doing anything reckless.”

And just like that, he pulled away from her, closing himself of to her, just as she closed herself off to him. He turned to walk back down the hall to the living room where everyone was still talking, but before he could go far, she called out after him.

“Do you even care, Luka?”

He spun on his heel, still walking backwards though he was now facing her. He drew an X over his heart, then placed the flat of his palm against the spot. She couldn’t say what that meant, could only hope that he might feel for her what she felt for him, but knew that the possibility of that was far more complicated than she really wanted to think about right now.

He thought he knew her, but he should have known that just because he told her not to do something, didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do it. She still had to make that call.

Anya was too arrogant to believe she could ever make a mistake—even with the catastrophe with Lauren and her family—and for that reason, Alex knew Anya would still be carrying the phone Alex had stashed in the gift basket she’d brought for her.

Knowing she didn’t have much time until Luka came back when she didn’t follow him, Alex punched in the number, bringing the phone up to her ear, her heart thumping rapidly in her chest as the ringing started.

It rang once, twice, before the call was forwarded to voicemail.

She was right.

Despite the fact that Anya couldn’t see her, Alex held her head high, needing the sense of bravado it brought her. If she wanted this to work, she had to make it sound believable.

When it was time to leave a message, Alex spoke clearly, and precisely into the phone.

“I know where you are and who you’re with. I also know about the assassin you hired. I know the truth, but if you want me to keep your secret, you will meet with me with two-hundred thousand dollars, cash. If you don’t have it, ask the Albanian you’re f*cking. When you call, and you will, I’ll give you a time and location.”

Ending the call, Alex dropped the phone back into her pure, clearing her expression before she could reenter the room. Hopefully, time was on her side. If Anya didn’t know that the assassin had failed, then she would be more willing to bargain, especially since she had set Alex up to take the fall for it.

Now, all she had to do was wait.



Anya hadn’t disappointed.

About a week after Alex left the message, Anya contacted her wanting to negotiate. For all intents and purposes, she had no reason to worry about what Alex might do because she still believed her plan was still in affect. Anya clearly didn’t know what she was doing if she hadn’t realized that the mercenary had botched it long ago, but Klaus was their ace in the hole.

In the time between her call with Anya and the date they’d set to meet, Alex had gotten everything she needed for it.