The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(87)

While he did trust Celt to a certain extent, Klaus did wonder who the hell he had set him up with someone that was this damn still.

He ticked off the minutes they drove in his head, cataloguing each turn as well. By the time they stopped, gravel crunching beneath the tires, they had only traveled about fifteen minutes.

Klaus sighed loudly, his patience wearing thin as he waited. Instead, the person across from him opened the car door and climbed out, the car shifting with their weight. It was only a few moments later before someone else took their place.

Unlike the previous inhabiter of that space, there was nothing subtle about this one. Though not overpowering, Klaus did catch the masculine tones of whatever cologne the man was wearing.

“There’s no need for you to keep that on.”

Klaus snatched off the mask, immediately looking to the man that had thought it was necessary to practically kidnap him for a meeting. More importantly, he needed to figure out who the hell he was. Since he had worked under contract, he had only ever met with the man that had found him in the alley.

If there was a newcomer—and that Celt was working for him too—meant one of two things. Either Klaus was going to be bid off, or they were all under new management.

Neither idea appealed to him.

They were parked beneath a bypass, the lights cut though Klaus could see the shadows of people surrounding the car.

“Niklaus.”

He particularly hated when people used his entire name. “Klaus.”

The man across from him wore a blank expression, not even a little amusement in his gaze. It was almost uncanny. “I thought it was time we had a little chat.”

He had a marked accent, a combination of Irish and Welsh, if Klaus wasn’t mistaken. He had spent enough time in those regions to catch the inflections.

“Who are you?”

“Your new handler,” he said evenly, his head canting to the side as though he were the one studying Klaus instead of the other way around.

The guy was f*cking odd. Klaus scratched at his jaw, hiding his confusion well. “And my last one?”

“Dead, but that is unimportant at the time. I need you for a job.”

Klaus blinked, his original suspicion had been right. “Listen, I don’t know where you’re from, but I just finished a contract and I have some time before I’m supposed to report. “

He laughed, but it didn’t sound as though he was amused. “I would have thought that after you killed Rayne, you would listen to reason.” He lost that brief smile. “Especially since you’re facing death because of it.”

Klaus was too seasoned to portray any reaction to the man’s words, but on the inside, he was squirming. With a casual shrug, he explained, “I was on the job. Not much I can do about that.”

“I don’t believe I asked for a reason.”

“So what are you proposing?” He had no other choice but to accept whatever he was offering. Despite the life he lived, Klaus wasn’t ready to die.

“As I was saying, I need you for a job.”

“Who’s the target?”

Klaus was handed a single photo. He looked it over, focusing on the lone face that was circled. Blinking twice, he wanted to make sure he was seeing correctly before a curse passed his lips.

Death was definitely a better option.





With Mishca’s pending court date, along with the media surrounding him, Lauren felt like she couldn’t escape the scrutiny, and now she just wanted a moment to herself. Mishca wasn’t around as much, doing as much damage control as he could now that half of his men—along with Mikhail’s—were in police custody.

Not only that, but apparently Ross still had friends in the police force who’d updated him on everything going on. That conversation had not gone well, but whatever Mishca had said to him over the phone after stepping out of the room, had clearly appeased them for the time being.

Between the unmarked police cars outside their building and the constant swarm of reporters, Lauren just wanted a slice of normal, if only for a few hours. She’d called Amber, almost expecting her to decline since the cat was officially out of the bag, but she was more than happy to help her get away from all of the chaos.

“Is it really as bad as it looks?” Amber asked, sliding the New York Times across the table for Lauren to see.

Right on the front was a rather candid shot of Mishca and Mikhail, the headline reading: THE FALL OF THE THIEVES-IN-LAW. Lauren didn’t bother reading the article, turning the paper over as she raised her hand, signaling for the waiter.

“Mish says it’s not, but I don’t know how true that is. He always wants to protect me from the truth.”

Amber shrugged, taking a sip of her water. “Can’t say that I blame him. This shit is crazy.”

Rubbing her eyes, Lauren nodded, looking out at the street to where she saw a black SUV pull up. Dismissing it, she turned back to Amber. “You’re telling me. I should have at least prepared for this, but Mishca always seemed untouchable. I didn’t even think of the possibility that this could happen.”

“I’m sure he’ll come out on top, Lauren.”

The agents were trying for stealth, but after the run-ins she’d had in the past, Lauren was very aware of everything going on around her.

“I need you to do me a favor,” Lauren said still looking at the agents. “Call Mishca and tell him the FBI picked me up.”