The Morning (Volkov Bratva Book 5) Read online

  The Morning

  A Volkov Bratva Novella

  London Miller

  Contents

  Newsletter

  Also by London Miller

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Afterword

  In the Beginning

  Prologue

  About the Author

  The Morning Copyright © 2016 by London Miller

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Newsletter

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  Also by London Miller

  Volkov Bratva

  In the Beginning

  Until the End

  The Final Hour

  Time Stood Still

  Valon: What Once Was

  Hidden Monsters

  Den of Mercenaries

  Red.

  Celt.

  Nix.

  Seasons of Betrayal

  Where the Sun Hides

  Where the Snow Falls

  Where the Wind Whispers

  To you, the reader

  Merry Christmas

  Prologue

  Christmas Eve.

  2015

  Snow raged outside, falling in thick, fluffy flakes to the ground below, adding to the piles that had grown steadily over the last six hours.

  Alex Volkov had always enjoyed winter in the city—the tall Christmas trees, the lights, and picturesque background—but out on Luka’s property where there wasn’t a neighbor for miles, and trees lined nearly every inch of the surrounding area, she had begun to appreciate the glittering snow and solitude a little more.

  Especially when that meant she also had Luka all to herself.

  Dressed in holiday pajamas—a bright blue two-piece with giant snowflakes emblazoned on them—she turned into the kitchen, spotting Luka standing with his back to her, too busy looking down over the steaming pot on the stove in front of him.

  Apparently, there was an art to making hot chocolate—or at least, that was what he had told her when she asked him to make her some. The request had barely been out of her mouth before he was up, pulling on a pair of dark jeans that hung low on his waist and venturing downstairs with Loki at his heels.

  It hadn’t even been six months since he came home from a place neither of them liked to talk about, and slowly, he was recovering from whatever had been done to him over there.

  Luka was still playful, still had the same self-deprecating sense of humor that she loved, but there was always an edge to his smile now—as though something dark lingered just beneath the surface.

  This shouldn’t have been worrisome, especially not on someone like Luka. He thrived in chaos and mischief, though if he was in one of his moods, it could mean something ugly and painful for whoever was on the receiving end of his anger.

  But there had always been a sort of manic glee to his darker moods—one that made you wonder whether he would smile while he stabbed you.

  Alex worried about this—not the stabbing bit since she knew all too well who she had fallen in love with—but she did worry that the torture he had been subjected to after Fatos took him back to Albania still lingered inside him.

  That was why, this year, she wanted Christmas to be just between the two of them … and Loki, of course. Loki was more than happy to remain at home with the pair of them as long as he could squeeze his big body between them wherever they were.

  Luka hadn’t minded—whatever she wanted, he had said—and a month before the day, he had even went out with her Christmas tree shopping, and they’d been able to find one that was the perfect height to fit in his living room.

  Now, that tree stood tall, twinkling lights in shades of blue and white wrapped around it, with colorful bulbs and baubles dangling from its branches.

  Below the tree, there were more than a dozen presents—ones she had spent hours making sure they perfectly wrapped just right before placing them there.

  The first time Luka had come home and saw the few that had been under there at the time, he had smiled, shaking his head as though amused with her, but he didn’t comment. When five more were placed, he kissed her gently, but told her her to stop, and after the last few days when at least a dozen more were added, there was a little more firmness in his voice when he told her to stop buying him things because, as he had put it, she was only getting one gift from him.

  Alex didn’t doubt that was true—Luka was a man of his word after all.

  Padding across the floor, Alex wrapped her arms around his middle, leaning into him as she rested her cheek against his back. Sometimes, even she had to remind herself that he was really there, even when he was standing right in front of her.

  Letting her fingers drift over his abdomen, feeling the ridges and contours, then over the slight trail of blonde hair that disappeared beneath his waistband, she offered him comfort that he didn’t ask for.

  A smile was in his voice as he said, “Any further south and you won’t get your drink.”

  Laughing softly, Alex left her hands where they were. “I could live with that.”

  Sighing—though he didn’t sound the least bit put out—Luka turned in her arms, scooping her up with ridiculous ease, then dropped her on the island so they were nearly eye level.

  He kissed her quickly, impulsively, as though he couldn’t help himself, then said, “Patience.”

  She didn’t know whether that softly uttered word was for her or himself.

  Finishing, he poured the steaming liquid into two mugs, then dumped a handful of marshmallows in one of them—she had since gotten used to his peculiar eating habits which included very little sugar.

  He led the way back into the living room where Loki was curled up on the rug, head on his paws as he watched them a moment before dismissing them since neither of them had any food he could beg for.

  Alex had made sure to include him in the Christmas festivities, buying him one of the biggest bones she could find, and even wrapped a bow around it. She hadn’t bothered to put it under the tree, knowing that he wouldn’t have been able to help himself, so instead she stuck it on a shelf, but somehow he had sniffed it out where she had hidden it inside the closet and ate it before she ever realized it was missing—the red bow was the only evidence left behind.

  Despite his guilty look once she realized what he had done, she punished him anyway by making him wear the Santa sweater he hated.

  It was the little things, after all.

  “Are we opening presents now?” Alex asked as she took a sip of her drink, sighing as the rich flavors came to life on her tongue—no one compared to Luka in the kitchen.

  Glancing back at the clock, Luka shook his head. “It’s not even Christmas yet.”

  “Seriously?” she demanded, glaring at him. “There’s only like ten minutes left.”

  A corner of his mouth quirked up. “Still not Christmas.”

  Setting her mug down, she tried to entice him by picking up one of the many boxes under the tree with his name on it. “Are you sure? This one is pretty awesome.”

  Though he looked aggrieved, she could tell he was secretly pleased. When she gave it a little shake, he finally reached for it, which she all too happily handed over.

  Alex used to love the holiday simply because she got a lot of presents, but she had grown to appreciate the art of giving rather than receiving.

  Especially when she was giving to Luka.

  She was more excited about seeing his reactions to her gifts as opposed to whatever he got her—though she was still excited about that too, but there was nothing like making him happy.

  Alex was so used to people ripping through the wrapping paper to get to whatever was within it that she was surprised—though vaguely remembering that he had done the same last year—Luka carefully removed the paper with a gentleness she hadn’t expected as he set it aside to open the box.

  He looked puzzled for a moment as he read the name on it, as though he was surprised that she would get him something from Cartier—but Luka was low maintenance, so he probably never thought of shopping there himself.

  The look cleared though once he removed the watch and immediately moved to put it on.

  “Do you like it?”

  He murmured something in Albanian, but if that almost bashful smile he shot her was anything to go by, he definitely liked it.

  Grabbing a few more, she brought them over to him, sitting back as he went through those as well. Two pairs of jeans, another pair of boots to replace the ones he was wearing daily—she was sure duck tape held them together—and finally, a picture of the pair of them that she had forced him to take only days ago.

  She had thought about buying a frame for it to go in, but as she watched him trace her face with his thumb, then pocketed the picture, she knew she had been right in leaving it as it was.

  Luka sat back, rubbing a hand over his hair. “Loki.”

  The dog’s ears perked up at hearing
his name, his eyes darting to Luka. It no longer surprised her how much Loki seemed to understand.

  “Get the box.”

  Whatever that meant had Loki on his feet and bounding up the stairs, the sound of his exuberance carrying through the floor. Alex could only wonder with anticipation at whatever Loki had gone to find as Luka refused to meet her gaze, too preoccupied with his new watch.

  Finally, after a minute or so, Loki came running back, holding a carefully wrapped bundle in his mouth, dropping it in Luka’s lap once he got close enough. As only Luka would do, he tossed it to Alex, smiling when she caught it.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  Of course, his answer was only to smile.

  She went about unwrapping it, and unlike his careful removal, she ripped through the paper in seconds, then pulled the top off, only to discover another box inside. Glancing up at him quizzically, she went back to open the second one … and found another.

  Laughing, she shook her head. “Only you, Luka.”

  He waved her on. “Keep going.”

  Three more times she pulled off a top to another box, each one getting smaller as though she were opening a Russian nesting doll, and finally, as she got to the last one, she froze with the top in her hand, staring down at the little velvet box that was resting inside.

  It could have been a pair of earrings, she reasoned, but a part of her—arguably a part that was inside all women—knew that it wasn’t.

  She was almost too afraid to open it knowing that what she thought was inside could change everything, but out the corner of her eye, she saw Luka stand, coming over to her side. He took the choice away from her.

  He reached in, plucking the box free and lifted its lid, holding it out for her to see, his brows drawing together as she could only stare at it, motionless. After a moment, he started to speak.

  “This wasn’t how I thought this shit would go down. I figured you would end up with some fucking idiot that I would contemplate killing just because he got the chance to wake up to you everyday—never thought it would be me beside you to be honest. My life was …” he hesitated, seeming at a loss for words as he looked past her to the tree, as though it could provide him with answers. “I don’t know how I lived without you before, because now that you’re here, I’d fall to shit without you.” Luka looked at her then. “I’m not a nice person, nor is there anything good about me … except for you—you are what’s good about me. I love you, and fuck if I don’t try to show you this everyday that we’re together, but sometimes I fuck up. You’re used to it. But now, I want you to know that—if there was ever any doubt—that I want you permanently, and that you’re stuck with me whether you like it or not.”

  Luka plucked the ring from the box, the sight of it in his enormous hands making her heart stutter. He didn’t bother asking the official question, letting the ring do the asking for him.

  Nor, did he actually wait for her to agree before he had ahold of her hand and was slipping the ring on her finger.

  As he put it on her, Alex’s eyes teared up, hearing his words play over and over in her head. When he looked up and noticed, he smiled gently, though his words were anything but.

  “For fuck’s sake, stop crying.”

  “It’s your fault!” she said on a laugh, wiping away a tear that slipped free.

  “Right, but I can’t fuck you if you’re crying. Too weird, even for me.”

  Throwing herself at him, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clinging to him as she smiled against his neck. “I can’t wait to be your wife, Luka.”

  “You won’t have to wait long,” he said, carefully getting to his feet, one arm banding around her waist, the other hand firmly gripping her ass. “Thirty-six hours.”

  “What? We can’t get married so soon!”

  “Why not?”

  “We need a marriage license.”

  “Already taken care of.”

  Of course he had. “An officiant, a priest, or something …”

  He started up the stairs toward their bedroom. “Have a friend that owes me a favor.”

  “Seriously, Luka! I don’t even have a dress.”

  He dropped her on the bed as soon as they were in the room, already reaching for her pajama pants and tugging them down. “We’re going to Paris. I’m sure you’ll find something.”

  “Lu—”

  He pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her. “Whatever you want, whatever you need, I’ll get it for you—just name it. But we’re getting married, Aleksandria. Now, are you going to shut up so I can fuck you, or not?”

  Smiling, feeling happier than she had ever been, Alex didn’t utter another word.

  Chapter One

  Christmas Eve.

  2016

  I can’t wait to be your wife, Luka …

  How easy those words had seemed when she first spoke them, but now, nearly a year later, as Alex boarded yet another flight out of Paris, she was reminded that she had been a little naïve in her thinking of how simple it would be to fulfill that dream.

  Luka hadn’t wasted any time in marrying her, putting the matching band on her finger with that adorable smile of his as they’d stood in the front of the cathedral with bright sunlight shining through the stained glass windows—just the two of them.

  It didn’t matter that they had both been needed elsewhere—her at rehearsals, him to report to Mishca for his new role in the Bratva—Luka refused to let anything stand in their way before they were married, and took a few days for their honeymoon.

  Those had been the best days of her life.

  But despite how wonderful they had been, reality had quickly set in.

  She might have wanted to be a good wife, but that was hard when she was living thousands of miles away most of the year and he was back home in New York.

  Sure, they spent plenty of weekends together whenever they had free time, but even that was only for a day at most before she had to fly back. Sometimes, he would come to her, and they spent as many hours as they could locked away in her Paris apartment before she had to leave for rehearsal. There had even been a few times when he’d been gone by the time she got back home.

  It had been a few years since she had worked as tirelessly as she did, and her job as a ballet dancer had its own hardships that was was getting used to again. Even Luka was feeling new pressure because of the variance of his role in the Bratva. As an enforcer, his main worry had been how creative he could get when he was killing people. Now, he couldn’t just hurt, or maim, or kill those that crossed him. He had to talk first.

  Sometimes she wondered if he missed that simplicity instead of the complications that came with being a Bratva Captain.

  Luka had never been one for politics.

  But most of all, she wondered whether he just missed her being within easy reach if he ever needed her.

  Now, it would take several hours before she was even in the same country.

  Then, there was also the little fact that she didn’t think he was adjusting well after what happened to him in Albania. Nearly two years had passed and he was still moody and distant, and she only saw a difference when she was with him … or he was hurting something.

  It was because of him him that she’d insisted on having Christmas off despite the performance that was scheduled for tonight. Sure, the director wasn’t happy with her, but she would rather suffer his displeasure rather than leave Luka alone on Christmas.

  He meant more to her than anything in the world.

  Plus, Luka had no idea she was coming—or that she had already bought his Christmas present before she had ever stepped foot on the plane.

  Despite it being Christmas Eve, the owner of the dealership she’d bought from made a special exception for her considering who her brother was—the Volkov name allowed for many exceptions.

  By the time water was turning to land, Alex had worked out a plan in her head. First, she would stop by the dealership, then she wanted to make sure she could actually surprise him.

  Before she boarded her flight, she’d called, just to talk to him—and figure out what his plans for the day so she could put her own together—and once she landed, there wouldn’t be much time before he would be back home.