Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(28)

Now she wished she had never bothered to ask.

What more could she say when there was nearly half a million dollars in her account.

“Sweetie, do you want to talk? I know this may be a little hard for you…”

“It’s not a big deal. I can handle this.”

But she kind of was having a mild panic attack. If her paycheck hadn’t been in her account, she would have cancelled this entire trip out. She didn’t feel right spending that money, knowing why it was there, but she had no idea what she would do with it.

“How’s school going?” Susan said in a bid to change the subject.

“Tiring. I absolutely hate economics.”

“I’m sure you’re doing just fine.”

“Of course you do, mom,” Lauren said laughing. “Anyway, I’m out shopping with Amber. I’ll call you later.”

“Be careful while you’re out, okay? I love you.”

“Love you too, bye.”

She briefly thought about calling Mishca, wanting to tell him about it, but thought better of it at the last minute.

When Lauren turned around, Amber was off talking to a pretty attractive guy that looked a bit artsy. He had dark hair—not as dark as Mishca’s—and blue eyes that had the same aquatic shade that Mishca’s were, but they were missing a distinct of silver—

She was doing it again. Now, she saw similarities between Mishca and random men, but they were always lacking in comparison.

Not wanting to interrupt, and glad that Amber was talking to someone, she looked through the display cases at the mannequins posed in colorful lingerie. They all struck dramatic poses, the underwear only adding to the absurdity of it all.

“See anything you like?” Amber asked walking up next to her, a big smile on her face.

“Friend of yours?”

“His name is Justin. He modeled in one of my art classes before, pretty nice guy.”

Lauren waited eagerly for her to go on, waving her hand wildly when Amber just smiled.

“He wanted to meet for drinks next week. I said yes.”

“Awesome! You’re back in the game.”

“Yea, and I at least know he’ll appreciate my art…no, I promised myself I wouldn’t talk or even think about Rob. Back to my question, do you see anything that speaks to you?”

“That one,” she responded pointing to one of the mannequins on the far end, wearing the most modest attire of all of them.

“You can’t wear that. It’s your first time, it’s supposed to be memorable. Come on, let me show you how it’s done.”

Amber dragged her in, immediately pointing out frilly and tiny things that she thought were to die for.

“What about this?”

Amber held up a crotch less bodysuit made of lace that had Lauren shaking her head before she had it all the way off the table.

“Why not something simple? Something white? Cotton?”

Amber looked so alarmed by that, Lauren laughed. “You’re not in jail, L. How about these?” She dragged her over to another table filled with lacy undergarments in different colors.

These weren’t so bad.

“If I pick these, is this all I need?”

“Sweetie, we’re just beginning.”

Two hours and four stores later, they were finally getting home. Lauren tossed her bags on the couch, collapsing beside them as she rested her aching feet. She had forgotten what it was like shopping in New York.

“You have everything? You remember everything I said?”

“Yep. No biting unless he’s into that kind of thing, no candle wax because it never ends well, and finally no slapping, unless, of course—”

“He’s into that kind of thing,” Amber finished. “I don’t think Mish would be though. He’s seems too…domineering to be the sub.”

Lauren laughed though she agreed.

Everything was ready for her special weekend with him and she could hardly contain her excitement. Now, all she had to do was get him to agree.





When Lauren had everything ready, and her clothes packed, she called a cab, heading over to Mishca’s to surprise him. She had paid close attention to his schedule, noticing a pattern. During the week, he was constantly business, time spent between the Bratva and his club, and on the weekends, just the club.

Since Jonathan was the head of operations, he handled everything that Mishca did. It only took a single phone call to get him to handle everything for the weekend.

Mishca pulled the door open, his solemn expression morphing into a grin as he reached for Lauren.

“Moya globushka.”

“Forty-eight hours,” Lauren said without preamble, holding up a sealed envelope with his name on it, her suitcase resting by her feet.

As she waved it in front of his face, he plucked it from her hands, preparing to open it when she put her hands over his, stilling his movements.

“Not yet, you have to agree first.”

“What exactly am I agreeing to?” He asked as he led her into his apartment.

“Alone time with me for forty-eight hours with no phones,” she stressed when his phone buzzed. “Jonathan already agreed to oversee everything and I’m sure your, uh, partners can handle a couple days without you.”