Time Stood Still (Volkov Bratva #3.5)(3)

“What are you going on about, Aleksandra?”

“I’m just saying. If I were married to you, your ass would have been divorced two weeks in.”

Luka, the idiot, cleared his throat, raising his hand in the air as though they were in school and he needed permission to speak. Exasperated, Mishca pointed to him.

“She has a point.”

That was it. That was all he said.

His hand twitching with the urge to do violence, Mishca looked over at Alex, hoping she would add something meaningful to this conversation before he ended it entirely.

“Let’s review the facts. Viktor killed her father, tried to kill her and then Ross years later—oh and that cunt you used to stick your dick in—”

Mishca cut her off to ask, “When did you become so crude?”

She pointed to Luka, who of course, pointed to himself.

“Perhaps I need to reassign him.”

Mishca had initially believed, partly because Lauren suggested it, that Luka and Alex would be good together because she was more willing to open up to the enforcer than she was to Mishca, but he also didn’t miss the fact that his sister had had a crush on Luka since he had begun working for him. He hadn’t read too much into this only because Luka hadn’t seemed receptive—and his still frequent visits to the Gilded Room—but that didn’t mean he knew the enforcer’s true feelings.

“If you’re worried that he’s sticking his dick in me, no worries. He’ not.”

Even Luka glared at her this time.

Ignoring Mishca entirely, she returned that glare. “What? It’s the truth.” Back to Mishca. “Anyway, as I was saying. The chick you slept with came waltzing back, tried to have her killed by crazy ass Albanians—no offense there, Tiger.”

Luka smirked, but didn’t offer a response.

“Oh, and let’s not forget my mother hired a mercenary to take her out. I mean, if I was her, I’d think I’d married into the worst family ever.”

“And you had the nerve to get shot on her wedding day,” Luka added looking reproachful.

Mishca didn’t respond to this. He didn’t admit that he had thought of all this before. Even worse, though they didn’t mention it, Lauren had planned a trip for them after the wedding for their honeymoon, but the chaos that had ensued following the day had prevented them from going. She had never spoken about it, but while he was still recovering, she’d been the one that had had to cancel all of their reservations. Though she would never voice how that hurt her, he knew it did.

“What do you suggest then?” Mishca asked candidly, willing to listen to Alex’s recommendation. If there was one thing he could say about her, she believed in true love and grand acts of affection.

“Don’t go to Brazil,” Luka said with a laugh. “The last time you took her there, you were busy getting off with the crazy bitch that got her kidnapped. Word of advice, never go back to that f*cking country. Fucking memory is a bitch. It lingers.”

“I am dangerously close to throwing you out,” Mishca warned.

Giving him a look of mock hurt, Luka said, “And I am dangerously close to not giving a single shit. Not. One.”

“What he means is,” Alex said jumping in, “you should something really special for her. You know, a thanks-for-sticking-by-me-though-I-bled-all-over-your-wedding-dress kind of thing. Isn’t Susan and Ross getting married this weekend? That’s a start.”

“Wait.” Luka held his hand up, looking over at Alex. “Michigan? You want them to go to Michigan for a honeymoon? It’s boring as f*ck there. What are they going to do, fish?”

Rolling her eyes, Alex said, “I didn’t mean for them to stay there for the honeymoon, but wait until they’re there for her to surprise her with the honeymoon. I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about surprises since the only affection you know how to give is leaving money on the bedside table for your—”

Luka lost his easy smile, his gaze turning cold. “Don’t call her that.”

It was like watching two opposing forces come together. Alex climbed to her feet, bending down in front of Luka, her face inches from his. She had always been bold, refusing to back down from anything, but Luka was just as stubborn, and the two of them together promised trouble.

“Or. What?” She asked, not flinching away from the hostility that was bleeding out of him now.

A muscle jumped in his jaw as he slowly moved to his feet, his teeth grinding together, restraining himself if only for Mishca’s sake. “You’re acting like a damn child.”

A dangerous light entered her eyes as she stabbed a finger against his chest, not caring that the enforcer was nearly twice her size. “That’s what I am, remember? Can’t have it both ways, Luka.”

Luka opened his mouth to respond, but Mishca spoke up first. “Enough.”

Normally, their bantering was entertaining—as long as he wasn’t in the middle of it—but there was clearly something Mishca had missed about their relationship since he had last been in a room with the pair of them. On the surface, it just looked like there was normal animosity there, but Mishca could remember what he felt when he argued with Lauren, and seeing this…he could imagine that this was what he looked like.

“Aleksandra, I need a minute. Wait out at the bar and when Luka is done here, he will take you home.”