Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(48)

“Wait, Mish, I can’t stay here. I have school...and work.”

He waved that way. “I’ll handle it.”

“No, you can’t just tell me what to do. This isn’t--”

“Lauren!”

She jumped, her eyes grown wide as she faced his anger.

“This isn’t negotiable. You do as I say without argument, ponyal? I’ll be back later. Luka will show you to your room.”

Snapping his fingers, he brushed by her, followed quickly by the others in the room, leaving Lauren standing dumbfounded with Luka. Looking uncomfortable, Luka bounced on the heels of his feet, whistling a jaunty tune.





Mishca was in trouble.

He’d known that before leaving Lauren hours earlier, but he knew for sure when he entered the bedroom. She didn’t look away from the book she was reading when he entered, but he saw her fingers tighten slightly around the cover. He could blame it on the stress, between the constant back and forth with the Albanians and trying to get straight answers out of Naomi, but there was no excuse for the way he treated Lauren earlier.

After issuing a not so subtle threat to Jetmir after his little display with Lauren, Mishca had thought of an apology that would help smooth things over with her, but looking at her now, when she refused to even acknowledge his presence, he knew that it wouldn’t be sufficient enough.

He didn’t think he had ever seen her this angry with him, not like this, and he almost wished she would yell at him, hit him, anything but ignore him.

Sighing, he flipped the lock on the door, dropping his bag in front of it as he crossed the room, climbing onto the bed beside her. Still, she wouldn’t look at him.

He made an attempt to reach for her, but she pulled away, turning onto her side as she brought the book closer to her face.

“Lauren, I’m sorry.”

She smirked, the only acknowledgement she gave to his words.

“I overreacted earlier. I—well, I can’t say it won’t happen again, then I would be lying to you.”

“And we all know the great Bratva Captain never lies,” she muttered dryly.

“Never intentionally.”

“You know, I didn’t even know there was an Albanian Mob.”

Now he was the one sighing, reclining back against the mountain of pillows on the bed. “Who told you?”

She closed her book, tossing it to the foot of the bed. “No one told me. I guessed. Luka said they were Albanian businessmen, seemed reasonable enough.”

He laid back against the pillows, watching her out the corner of his eye. “Yes, the men you met were Albanian Mob.”

“And that penis measuring thing…that was aimed at you.”

He chuckled, coughing when she glared at him.

“I don’t think I’ve heard you say coc—” She punched him in the arm, making him laugh harder.

“I’m being serious, Mish.”

“And I’m taking this seriously.”

Rolling her eyes, she threw her pen at his head, missing him by several inches. “And what the hell was that earlier?”

That sobered him up as he reached for his hand. She noticed that when he was trying to express something to her, he often touched her hands, bringing them to his lips.

“I apologize, sometimes I speak before thinking. Can you forgive me?”

When he looked at her with big blue eyes, she instantly forgave him, but he didn’t have to know that. Sighing dramatically she picked back up her book.

“You never make it easy for me, do you?”

She yelped as he rolled over, tugging at her leg as he rolled back into his original position, with her now on top of him. He kept his hands on her thighs as she used his chest to push up, his thumbs caressing the skin there.

It was hard to stay mad at him, especially when he was groveling, but that didn’t mean she would accept half-truths from him.

“You can’t just expect me to do what you say without any kind of explanation.”

“I can’t keep you safe if you’re not with me.”

“You’re not listening, Mish. What do you need to keep me safe from? I was pretty sure you weren’t the only mob in town, but that didn’t seem to make a difference. What is it about them that has you worried?”

His gaze had drifted downward, his mind already sidetracked by the fact that she wasn’t wearing any pants.

“Mish?” She said using her finger to lift his head. Laughing softly when he resisted. “Are you going to tell me?”

He sighed in defeat laying back, staring at her for several heartbeats before nodding. “There’s a diamond that they want, runs in their family, I believe. They think Naomi stole it.”

“And did she?”

Though he shook his head no, Lauren could see he wasn’t too convinced of that fact.

“They were the ones that shot up your club.”

It wasn’t a question.

It explained why he had been acting so weird afterward, refusing to talk about it.

“What are you going to do about it?”

“Either hand over Naomi or threaten to kill her if she doesn’t give me the diamond.”

“Bit morbid, but I’ll let you handle that.”

“So will you stay here for me? Please?”