The Final Hour (Volkov Bratva #3)(92)

Lauren folded her hands in her lap, trying not to give away how she felt about this revelation.

“As soon as she touched soil, I had Marco’s men on her, tracking her every movement, until I was able to get to her myself.”

“That night when you left with Vlad,” she added softly, thinking back to that time—she also didn’t miss the way his eyes narrowed when she said his name.

“Yes. I met her at a restaurant, I took her back to her room.” He paused here, resting his hands on either side of her, caging her in. “She kissed me, and I let her. I needed her to believe things were fine between us until Marco arrived.”

He sighed, long and hard, his eyes flickering over her face. “I’m sorry that I hurt you, but I can’t apologize for the results.”

“You talk about her in the past tense,” she said, keeping her gaze trained on him. She needed to hear the rest.

“That’s because I gave her to Marco, and if she’s not dead already, she’ll wish she was.” His entire body tensed when she moved back from him just slightly, but it wasn’t because of what he was saying, but because of the look in his eye.

“Why?”

He barked out a humorless laugh. “Do you really need to ask me that?”

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I could give you a list of reasons, but the only one that matters was because she set you up to die. I did everything I could to help her, but instead of giving me that f*cking diamond, she sent Brahim after you. That’s unforgivable.”

Lauren didn’t know what to think of that. “And if anybody else acts against me, are you going to have them killed?”

Without hesitation, he answered, “Yes. That’s who I am, who I’ve always been.”

“Not always,” she whispered.

“Yes, always. Ivan, Viktor, Naomi, Lyov, and if not for Klaus, Brahim as well. I’ve shielded you from it all, but that fear was paralyzing and it was the reason why so many have acted against me since you became a part of me. Now, they remember.”

At this moment, he seemed so cold and distant, and yet he was resolute in what he was saying.

“Is there anything else I should know?”

He shook his head. “No.”

Except, she didn’t believe that. “Tell me the truth. Before today, you’ve been walking around like a ghost for days—never mind the drinking. What’s going on?”

The muscle in his jaw was working, and it was pretty clear that he didn’t want to answer her question. “The entirety of the case against me is based on information an informant is providing the FBI.”

“But for them to bring you up on RICO charges, whoever it is has to be a credible source, right? Meaning someone within the Bratva.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know who it is?” She asked, though a part of her thought she already knew the answer.

It made sense now, the way he had been drinking heavily, acting strange, staying out until the wee hours of the morning. She knew it was partially due to the fact that they were fighting, but it always felt like there was more weighing on his mind.

“Does it matter?” He asked, his tone serious.

“Mish, you’re unhinging and I’m only trying to help.”

Even before her conversation with Amber, she’d thought about going to Mishca herself, demanding he give her an explanation, but now that she had one she was ready to move past it, but he wasn’t ready to let her in about what he was dealing with now.

“There’s nothing to help me with.”

There was nothing she could do if he wasn’t willing to let her in. She had done the same thing to him, refusing to listen to his explanation of the events in Brazil, but he had turned defensive, and she would be patient with him, whenever he was ready to let her in.

Until then, she would give him his space.





It was never easy watching Lauren walk away from him, even if it was just to another room, but she was right about him unhinging. Mishca thrived in order, had always preferred to keep every aspect of his life carefully controlled, and when he couldn’t, he found a way to make it happen. That was how it had always been, though this time, there was nothing about this that he could fix.

Despite his lifestyle and general distrust of those around him, Mishca had never doubted Vlad’s loyalty for a second. He had always been there, and had proven himself on a number of occasions, but now that Mishca was thinking back on the last couple of years, he tried to recall a single time when Vlad actually killed someone, or did anything remotely illegal for that matter.

Sure, he carried a gun on him at all times, ran errands for Mishca, but that was not nearly as bad as some of the things Mishca had done himself. It hadn’t mattered to him at the time—mostly because sometimes Mishca acted on impulse—that Vlad had never fired his gun. He mostly just stood in the background, observing.

How blind he had been.

Left to his thoughts, Mishca couldn’t help but think about his relationship with Vlad, spanning the length of nearly a decade…a man he had never really been. He remembered asking him once why he had never been with a female, but now he wondered if it was because he already had a wife.

Was she waiting for him once the job was over? Mishca didn’t doubt if this mystery woman did exist, she would enter the witness protection program with Vlad—the only safe route he could take now that the Vory v Zakone knew of his true identity. What about kids?