The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(83)

She passed the pages to the bailiff, who promptly handed them over to the judge. Nodding, he said, “I will tell you my decision at the next hearing.” He slammed the gavel down. “Next.”

It took ages to get through everyone else—some let out on bail, others remanded because of their prior convictions. After it was over, Jessica came over to Lauren.

“Why is their bail so high?” Lauren asked climbing to her feet.

“It’s common in cases like this, but there’s no reason to worry, London. We’re lucky there was an amount set.”

Accepting that, Lauren nodded, glancing over at Alex. “What do we do now? How do I post bail?”

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll take care of it. And your apartment should be clear now. Mishca should be there in a couple of hours.”

Jessica prepared to walk away, but Lauren wasn’t done. “And what about Luka?”

“You want to post bail for him as well?” She asked, almost like she was surprised by the request.

“Of course. I know they’re accounts are frozen—somebody has to do it.”

Inclining her head, Jessica said, “I’ll see to it.”



Her home looked like a crime scene.

Drawers were pulled out, clothes were strewn everywhere in the closet. They clearly didn’t care about putting the place back in order after their search.

But at the moment, she didn’t care what it looked like, as long as Mishca came back soon.

Lauren was sitting alone, despite there being at least a dozen people in her home, all talking in rapid Russian. She had no idea what was going on with Mishca since leaving the courthouse some hours before, let alone why all these people had just shown up, but since Alex was there, she didn’t question it.

She had foolishly never thought of this possibility before, always believing that Mishca and the Bratva were untouchable, yet here she was, panicked, waiting for his phone call.

It was only minutes later that Mishca walked in the door.

Back during the shooting, Mishca had immediately lapsed into business mode, forgetting that she wasn’t accustomed to experiencing something like that, but this time, he came to her first, ignoring everyone else.

He pulled her up and into his arms, stroking her hair. “I’m sorry about this.”

“What’s happening?” She knew his charges, but she didn’t know how much information the FBI had on him.

Mishca glanced back over his shoulder, biting something out in Russian that had them leaving out of the room to give them privacy. When they were alone again, he sat.

He shoved a hand through his hair, sighing as he let the mask drop for just a second. “I don’t want you to worry about any of this.”

“It’s a little late for that, Mish,” she said stepping back from him. “I watched you get arrested. You’re out on bail! Just tell me what you know.”

“Not much more than you, to be honest. I’m still gathering intel, but when I learn something, I’ll tell you. I promise.”

Luka had an odd look on his face as he entered the apartment, looking immediately to Lauren. “Thank you,” he said sincerely, pulling her into his arms for a hug.

Luka was always nice enough, but he had never shown such a blatant display of affection before. If she had to guess, she would assume it was because she paid his bail as well, but if she knew something else about him, he probably didn’t want her to acknowledge it.

“Any time,” she responded instead, returning his hug briefly.

“I need you to stay here with Lauren,” Mishca said as he went over to a drawer in the kitchen, pulling out a small cell phone. “Have everyone switch out their phones.”

“Mish, where are you going?” Lauren asked.

He had just gotten there, and she hadn’t seen him in two days. She understood that he might have had business he needed to take care of, but she still wanted him for a little while longer.

Barely acknowledging her, he kissed her forehead, heading for the door. “I’ll be back.”



Mishca had to meet Klaus out instead of calling, knowing that his calls were probably being monitored. He had thought about them trying to trace Klaus’ phone from the number listed in Mishca’s phone bill, but with Klaus ’s connections, they would never find him.

“Looks like you’re in deep, Russian. What are you doing about it?” Klaus asked, shielded by the shadows he was hiding in.

“I have it under control for now, but we will need to move our plans up.”

“Give me seventy-two hours, then meet me here.”

Nodding, Mishca prepared to leave, but Klaus called out to him.

“Need help with these charges?”

If Mishca was surprised by Klaus’ offer, he didn’t show it. He thought that if he did, Klaus might retract the offer, say something smart instead.

“I’ll let you know.”

Because if it did come down to Klaus having to bail him out, he would probably be too deep for him to do any good.





“No wonder you wear a mask. That’s seriously f*cking freaky, mate.”

Klaus rolled his eyes as he and Mishca entered Celt’s loft in Brooklyn. Celt was one of the few mercenaries Klaus knew that actually had a permanent residence as opposed to living in various locations for short bouts of time.