Until the End (Volkov Bratva #2)(52)

“Get out.”

The men scattered like mice, all except Lyov. He knew he hadn’t been dismissed yet, but he had enough initiative to stifle his cries.

Placing his own hands on the table, still clutching the bloody knife, Mishca said, “Apologize,” this time in English.

He mumbled something unintelligible, but quickly spoke up when Mishca raised his hand.

“I didn’t mean any disrespect to you,” he forced out between gritted teeth like that would be enough.

Mishca stabbed him in the other hand. If it were his pride he tried keeping, there would holes riddled all over his body before he left that table.

“Sorry!” He shouted, fighting past the pain to speak clearly.

Satisfied for the moment, Mishca jerked his knife free and sent the man on, sending Luka after him. The demonstration might have been over, but his punishment was just beginning.

With the room empty again, Mishca finally, truly, looked at Lauren, quickly scanning her to make sure she was okay, no longer trusting what she had told him. He didn’t know for sure whether it was fear that kept Lauren from telling him of the problem with (Name), but he needed her to know that she could tell him anything.

She was surprisingly silent and more surprisingly, she wasn’t looking at him as though she had never seen him before, a fact that he was currently grateful for since he had no idea when it would change.

He sat across from her this time, dropping the knife on the table to wipe his hand with one of the linen napkins resting there, the blood staining it. Her eyes drifted from it to him.

“Vlad told you?” She asked.

“If anyone bothers you, anyone, you tell me.”

“Is that what you’ll do?” She didn’t sound upset, just curious.

“Depends on the offense,” he answered evenly. Which, to both of them, mean if they did something to her?

“Why did you want me here?”

“So you would understand,” he said leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table. “I have always been worried that I would scare you away, and they took my precaution as a sign of weakness. I needed to show them how wrong they were, and I needed to show you that I would never allow anyone to harm you.”

This hadn’t just been punishment, but a declaration.

“I have a professor that’s being a pain in the ass about homework, is there like a special order for that?”





Lauren shot Mishca a quick message, letting him know she would be dropping by the club to pick up a textbook she left there. Since he was usually in his office overseeing the repairs, she figured she could ride back with him after he was done for the night.

She hadn’t seen much of him since the week she spent at his house and she knew that whatever was going on with Naomi had him stressing out, even when he tried not to show her.

Surprisingly though, his car wasn’t outside in the back parking lot, but a guard at the rear door, reaching for the handle as Lauren approached.

“Is Mishca here?”

“He will return soon.”

The man had a weird look when he said that, but Lauren didn’t have time to question it. She went up to the office, rooting around in search of her book. She found it in the bottom drawer of his desk. Grabbing it, something clattered to the bottom.

It was a gold and white iPhone, very similar to the one Naomi carried. It had to be a coincidence, however, there was no reason for him to have her phone unless…unless they were together right now.

A sharp noise sounded downstairs. Assuming it was the guard, Lauren ignored it, grabbing her phone to call Mishca.

When he didn’t answer this time, she left him a voicemail. “Mish, when you get this, call me. I’m at the club and—”

“Look who it is.”

Lauren dropped the phone, turning to face the man that had come into the restaurant with Jetmir. He was in black, wearing heavy looking black boots, and black ski mask. Except, it wasn’t really needed. She remembered his voice.

“What are you doing here?”

“I hoped to find the thief. This is where I tracked her phone to.”

She was right. It was Naomi’s phone. “What do you want with her?” She had to play dumb, not give anything away.

“Let me worry about that.”

Squaring her shoulders, Lauren said, “She’s not here.” She might have despised Naomi with every fiber of her being, but she wasn’t going to help any of them find her. She looked past him, expecting Pete to appear at any moment.

“The guard will not be helping you.”

It was then that Lauren noticed the gun in his gloved hand. That hadn’t been a random noise she’d heard, but a gunshot.

Her eyes shifted from him to her phone on the ground, the screen lighting up, Mishca’s name appearing.

“No, no.” With the gun trained on her, he stomped on the phone, shattering the glass face.

“He knows where I am,” Lauren said boldly, taking a step back. “He’ll be here at any moment.”

“Doesn’t matter. Still plenty of time to do what I want.”

He grabbed her with his free hand, slinging her to the floor. The office had yet to be renovated since the shooting and there was still pieces of glass on the floor. He came down on top of her, but she grabbed a large shard tightly in one hand, slashing at him.