He smiled, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. “Where do you want to go?”
“As long as we’re together, we can go anywhere.”
THE END
A Note From the Author
I would like to take this time and thank every single person that has made it a point to message me, tell me, yell at me about how badly you wanted this book. When I first started working on Mishca and Lauren’s story back in April of 2013, I could have never imagined that it would have morphed into something this big, or even that there would be so many people interested in their story, let alone the stories of their associates.
I can only hope that I did them justice in the final conclusion to their story (if it really is the end). If you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a review, or even just telling me that you enjoyed it. I love hearing from the readers about what they loved, and sometimes hated.
We will be picking up Klaus’ arc (Red.) in Fall of 2014 where we will learn what brought him to this point, and why exactly he hates Mishca so much.
Thank you, so much, for reading!
<3 L.M.
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Stay tuned for an exclusive excerpt of Red., book four in the Volkov Bratva Series.
The untold story of Klaus…
Preface
Icy cold water jolted Niklaus awake though he wished otherwise. In an instant, all the pain he had been subjected to over the last three days rushed back, every nerve ending screaming to life.
He couldn’t even wipe the droplets of water from his eyes, his arms long since numb, his limbs restrained with rope behind him. Wincing as he faced his tormentor, he met soulless brown eyes, saw the glimmer of satisfaction in the man’s eyes once he had his attention.
In his left hand, he held a black lighter, an engraving Niklaus couldn’t make out on the onyx casing. Each time the man flipped the top back, the flame igniting, a sliver of anxiety shot down Niklaus’ spine, not because he feared for his own life, but for the life of the girl strapped to the chair in front of him.
“Tell me what I want to know!” The man demanded, the same request since Niklaus had ben brought into the warehouse.
But no matter what Niklaus told him, the man was not convinced. For what felt like the hundredth time, Niklaus said, “I’m not who you think I am.”
Frowning in frustration, he grabbed the red, plastic container from the floor, dumping its contents onto the girl’s heads, the liquid soaking through her clothes in seconds. She whimpered behind the gag stuffed in her mouth.
When the acrid scent of gasoline hit him, Niklaus began begging in earnest, training against his restraints. “Please…I don’t know who you’re looking for. Just let us go.”
The man held the lighter out, the flame dancing and growing larger like it was anticipating the moment of contact.
“One chance…”
Niklaus looked to her then, helplessness eating at him. At this point, he was willing to tell them anything if it meant sparing her.
“Please, I…”
The words had barely left his mouth when the man dropped the lighter. Time slowed as he watched its descent, the lighter bouncing a couple times on the concrete floor before settling on its side.
Niklaus met her frightened eyes for several seconds and in them he saw acceptance because they both knew this was the last time for them.
She was about to die.
The Final Hour Page 32
