Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(23)

She hurried out before he could say anything more. He was tempted to break something else, mainly Jonathan’s face, but there was no point.

At least she said she would call. That was all he could hope for, and if she didn’t, he would reach out to her.





As she climbed into bed that night, Lauren didn’t have the energy to feel guilty for how she felt about Mishca. In fact, she was tired of fighting herself about it.





“You are terrible with women,” Vlad commented as he stepped into Mishca’s office, eyeing his boss angrily moving folders around his desk.

Lauren had been gone for a few hours and Mishca was burying himself in his work, needing the distraction.

“Yea?” Mishca asked sarcastically, throwing down the stack of financial records he was thumbing through. “I’ve never seen you with a woman.”

“Because I know very little about them, but I do know accusations will not help. You have only dug yourself into a deeper hole.”

“Then what do I do?” He would accept all the help he could get.

“Show remorse.”





Two weeks of zero contact, zero contact that was going to end today. Mishca had given her space, but now he was done with waiting. If she couldn’t come to him, he would go to her, and this time, there wouldn’t be any walking away.

But first, he had a promise to keep.

After getting the address from his father, Mishca showered and dressed, Alex already waiting for him in his living room. She hadn’t gone back to France, choosing to stay in New York in his apartment. Besides having her clothes all over his apartment, he didn’t mind her presence. Most nights he was out until the wee hours of the morning anyway. They rarely saw each other.

When he came out of his bedroom, he couldn’t help but think she looked like a little girl. She was trying her best to appear calm, but she was constantly checking her watch, sighing in aspiration as he took his time.

Mishca was afraid of what would happen when he took her to see Anya. He never wanted to tarnish her mother’s image in her eyes, but he knew how Anya would react to her.

He knew women like her.

“Ready?”

“What the hell took you so long anyway?” Alex murmured as she followed him out the apartment, down to his car.

They didn’t talk about that night at the club, but he did notice that she refrained from drinking as much around him and she hadn’t come back to his club since then.

Mishca had given Vlad the day off, not knowing what to expect after Alex’s visit. If it went badly, he knew Alex wouldn’t want an audience seeing her cry, even if they were as close as Vlad was.

He turned the radio down, briefly glancing over at his sister before facing the road again. “Aleksandria, I just want you to know that whatever happens, you still have me.”

Huffing out a breath, she rolled her eyes. “You’re like the only person that calls me that, you know. Makes you sound old. Besides, mum only hates you and that—Lauren.”

“I’ve told you before, Lauren has nothing to do with this.”

“Andddd Imagine Dragons is playing.”

She turned up the music, almost to an uncomfortable volume, singing even louder.

Mishca understood that her anger towards Lauren was frustration for the whole situation, and he couldn’t fault her for it. She was only seventeen and didn’t understand the delicate nature of the Bratva. While she had too grown up in the lifestyle, she was still sheltered from the extremities of it.

It was one thing Mishca and Mikhail had agreed upon.

They rode in silence, each lost in their own thoughts as they drew closer to the person Alex loved unconditionally, and the woman Mishca had always despised.

He was always careful with hiding his feelings from Alex. It wasn’t her fault that his mother had been forgotten long ago, just a distant memory for him alone. He actually cherished that, something pure that he could look back on when he needed it.

He also had Lauren…if she accepted him.

Now more than ever, he thought of his mother and the reasons behind why she had stayed with Mikhail all those years though she secretly abhorred everything there was about the Bratva. He wished he would have been older when he lost her, so he could understand how to be better than his father.

Arriving at their destination, Mishca parked the car, pulling out his phone to answer business inquiries while he waited.

“How long do I have?” Alex asked holding the door handle.

“Take as long as you want.”

She smiled, a real one that he hadn’t seen in a long time. Leaning over, she kissed his cheek. “Thanks, Mish.”





Alex took one last look back at the car before heading across the parking lot to the apartment building, making her way up to Anya’s apartment. As she got off on the right floor, she was surprised to see that it was fairly vacant, none of Mikhail’s soldiers guarding the apartment door. But for all she knew, Mishca could have called them away before they got here.

This was the moment she had been waiting for since the day they had taken her away. No one would tell her anything about Anya, not that she had many people to ask.

In her hand, she carried a basket of Anya’s favorites: a bottle of vintage wine, decadent cheeses, as well as various perfumes.