Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(45)

Instead of going out the front, Mishca led her to the back entrance with a hand at the small of her back. He tossed his keys to Vlad who immediately went to start the car.

“I’ll call you as soon as I can.”

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to him, not when she had questions, but she knew she could ask them another time.

“Promise?”

He smiled gently, meeting her eyes. “Promise.”





“You’ll look out for him, won’t you?” Lauren asked as she scooted across the seat to get out the car.

“Of course.”

Vlad didn’t pull off until she was safely inside her building. Rubbing her forehead, Lauren felt a headache coming on. This was…all of it was crazy.

“What the hell happened?” Amber asked when Lauren had only a foot in the door. Since it was Friday night, Tristan and Matt were over, both holding plates of food.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s already on the news,” Amber said pointing at the television where a newscaster was already reporting the shooting at the club.

“No idea,” Lauren replied honestly. “I was in Mishca’s office at the time.”

Tristan and Matt shared a look, the one they were famous for when they were both thinking the same thing.

Lauren couldn’t help but ask, “What is it?”

“What did you say that Russian did again?” Tristan asked taking a big bite of burger.

Her brows drew together as she regarded him. The question was innocent enough, but it was the way he asked it that made her suspicious.

“He owns the club. I thought I told you that?”

“Right. Right. But you also said he owns a penthouse apartment in Manhattan, has what—like three cars?”

“His club does well?” But that didn’t even sound convincing to her.

“Is he in the mob?” Matt asked pushing his glasses up his nose.

The question was asked so abruptly that Lauren was too startled to think of an answer immediately, giving them their answer by default.

Tristan grinned, pointing at Matt. “You owe me fifty bucks.”

“You didn’t even give her a chance to answer!” Matt retorted.

“Shut up, both of you. Are you alright though, seriously?” Amber asked and there was true worry in her eyes.

“I’m fine.”

Lauren wondered how many times she would be saying that while she was with Mishca, even if it was a lie.





Lauren was running on fumes by the time she left class. Work. School. Study. More work. Time with Mishca. More school. How she was able to accomplish this fall semester last year was beyond her.

“Why don’t you take a day off?” Mishca suggested, his voice crackling over the phone. “You deserve it.”

“Maybe. How are the renovations going?”

He sighed. “Got a quote today and it’s going to take at least three weeks to prepare the damage, even longer to restock.”

She frowned, her thoughts taking a turn for the worst as she tried to decipher why he sounded like he was in such a bad mood. She understood that it was stressful trying to repair the club—especially when it was riddled with bullet holes—but she thought there was more to it than that. They hadn’t talked about the shooting and with the news coverage, she assumed it had been a random event.

Ever since Naomi had arrived in their lives, she felt like she was experiencing a side of Mishca she had never seen before. He was irritable and always seemed on edge, but with her, there was something entirely different about the way he acted.

“What’s wrong?” She asked slipping inside one of the local eateries close to campus, holding her phone between her ear and shoulder as she readjusted her bags.

She found a semi-private booth with cracked vinyl on either side, the sight of it bringing a sense of nostalgia for her and Ross’ favorite diner in Michigan.

“Work,” he responded simply, moments after barking orders to someone in the background.

“If you want, I can drop by later—take your mind off of it for a bit.”

Now, she could almost hear the smile in his voice. “I’ll send Vlad.”

“You know, I can always drive there.”

“He drives faster and is less prone to road rage.”

“That was one time.”

Two weeks ago, Mishca had let Lauren drive them, but since she had only driven to work a couple of times, she was unprepared for the sheer chaos that was New York traffic. Two hours, furious yelling, and one amused Mishca later, he swore he would never let her drive again.

“So you say.”

“Yea, yea, whatever. I’ve got some studying to do. Call you when I’m done.”

“Ya tebya lyublya.”

Smiling, Lauren said, “Love you too.”

Hanging up, Lauren pulled out her books and engulfed herself in Biology.





Lauren took a bite of her pastry, scanning over the last of her notes for the test she would be taking in a couple of days. For the past twenty minutes, she had stayed diligent, forcing herself not to look up when the bell chimed as a customer entered.

She didn’t know what made her look up this time, but the five men entering one after the other was a good indication. More importantly, these five were walking directly towards her.