Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(49)

“Fine. One week, Mish. I’ll stay for one week.”

He drew her down for a kiss, a silent thank you for complying to his wishes. She needed to tell him that it wouldn’t always be that easy getting her cooperation, but at the moment, she didn’t care.

He smiled against her lips. “No one is on this floor,” He whispered, kissing the curve of her throat.

Laughing, Lauren leaned her head back, giving him better access. “Like no one was on the floor at the manor?”

He laughed with her, but their laughter soon stopped when they lost themselves in each other.





Mishca was gone the next morning, but the lack of his presence beside her wasn’t what woke her.

It was the sound of a girl’s furious screaming.

Slipping out of bed, Lauren hurried over to the door, cracking it open so she could see out into the hallway. What she saw there had her swinging the door open, her mouth agape in shock.

Luka was marching down the hall, a girl tossed over his shoulder, his arm banded around her thighs to keep her from falling as she flailed.

It didn’t seem to faze him as she pounded at his back, or the fact that she caught him more than once with her foot in the stomach.

“Put me down!”

Lauren blinked again, recognizing Alex’s voice. More surprisingly, Luka seemed not to care that he was manhandling his boss’ sister.

As he was passing her, Luka saluted her with two fingers, smiling unabashed as he traveled down the hall. Alex looked up at the last minute, spotting Lauren still standing there watching them.

Lauren expected her to start yelling insults, flip her off, or something similar, but Alex just stared, her expression unreadable until the both disappeared around the corner.

Instead of addressing it, she silently closed her door back, going to take a shower before searching for breakfast. Some of the clothes she had left at Mishca’s were neatly hung in the closet, her undergarments in one of the top drawers of the dresser.

After her dresser, she dressed quickly, checking her phone for any messages from Mishca. Zero. Leaving it for the time being, she ventured out into the rest of the house, taking in her surroundings as she went.

It was not nearly as big as the manor, but it still had a homey fell that the manor had been lacking. It was decorated in cool shades of blues and grays, just like Mishca apartment in the city. She would have to ask him about that when he got back, how many residences he actually owned.

Finding the kitchen took no time at all, especially with the helpful guards standing around. Every time she rounded a corner, there was another one, staring down at her intensely as though if they dared look away, she would disappear.

All the appliances were state of the art, an island diving the kitchen in half. A bowl of fruit sat in the center of it, and on the stove top, multiple pots were bubbling away. It smelled good though she couldn’t identify what it was that was cooking.

“Hello, girl.”

A man had just entered the kitchen, the gun at his waist on display, a white T-shirt with sweat stains straining against his chest. He wasn’t particularly imposing, but it was the way he looked at her that made her feel underdressed, despite her wearing jeans and an over-sized shirt. He didn’t cower away from her like the others did, instead he made a point to move into her space.

But she had no reason to fear him, not when he worked for Mishca.

“You are girl, yes. Mishca’s?”

One thing she found weird, he didn’t call Mishca Cap, Captain, or Boss like some of the others did. Was he purposefully trying to be disrespectful, or did he have the same rank?

His shirt was nearly transparent, but she could see any sign of stars on his chest or arms. He did have a few tattoos, one of a rabbit in a hat, a web with a spider crawling, and a bloody dagger.

Lauren had no idea what those meant.

He blocked her way, smirking when she tried to move around him again, not sure what else to do, already having lost her appetite. His teeth were yellowed and terribly crooked.

“Excuse me,” Lauren said politely though there was a hard note to her tone.

When she tried to walk past him again, he gripped her arm with bruising force, forcing her to stop, hurting her more when she tried to jerk free.

He spoke slowly, but in Russian so she had no idea what he was saying.

Lauren was ready to knee him in the balls when they were interrupted.

“Ostavlyat’—Leave.”

The girl had dark hair and even darker eyes that were made up with black eyeliner and smoky shadow. She stood eye to eye with Lauren, but had curves she could only dream of. More importantly, she didn’t cower in the face of this man, despite the warning he was sending her with his eyes.

Shoving Lauren away, muttering more words she couldn’t understand, he retreated from the kitchen. She watched him go, sighing when he was finally out of sight.

“Thanks,” Lauren said gratefully, rubbing her arm.

“I apologize for his behavior. Sometimes they forget their place. I’m Natasha, by the way.”

“Lauren,” she replied shaking her hand.

Natasha smiled kindly. “I know who you are. Mishca sent me to keep you company. I assume he didn’t like you alone with Mikhail’s goons.”

So that explained that one guy’s problem. “You said Mishca sent you?”

“Yes, I’m one of Luka’s girls.”