The Mistake (Volkov Bratva #3) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Volkov Bratva Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
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I’d asked Hubert and he smiled. I thought my food was nice and Michael said I had a gift. Again, I don’t know what any of that means, but it was nice to hear. I had come to realize that I loved to bake. Cakes, cookies, tartlets, pies were a lot of fun. Tricky, but fun.

So, the first month of wedded life was a lot of fun. I enjoyed it. Without my husband.

It was nice to live without fear of each bang. Of course, whenever there was a bang or a noise I wasn’t quite prepared for, it would startle me. Hubert was so sweet, though, he’d tell me what it was or who it was. In a gun-carrying, guard-duty kind of way, I liked him.

As for Ive, he didn’t call. If he did, I didn’t know about it.

Heading into the second month of marriage, it was one of Michael’s days off and I was back in the kitchen. This time I was making biscuits as I just wanted one with some whipped cream and slices of strawberry, when Hubert came back with none other than Ivan. There had been a knock at the door, and Hubert went to answer. With my hands covered in butter, flour, and sugar, I didn’t know if I was meant to bow, or what.

“Mr. Volkov.”

“Ivan, please,” he said, holding up his hand. “You may leave.”

Hubert looked at me and then at Ivan, but bowed and did as he was told.

“He’s my guard,” I said.

Ivan nodded. “And now that I’m here, I’m your guard. What are you making?”

“Would you like me to call Ive?” I asked.

“Your husband is aware of my presence. I did tell him I planned to visit. Did he not tell you?”

Should I lie?

Ivan chuckled. “You do not need to worry. I’m aware your husband has not been around.”

“He’s been very busy.”

“I know.”

Thank fucking God. I had no idea what Ive was doing. I could only hope he was busy and there was some crisis, and then I felt bad for even thinking that way. I shouldn’t be hoping for there to be a mess happening in the Volkov Bratva. Wait, my words were true, which meant … oh, crap.

“Is Ive okay?”

“Yes. According to my sources, he will be joining us soon. So what are we making?” he asked, grabbing an apron, washing his hands, and rolling up his sleeves.

His arms were covered in ink. I never noticed that before, but they were completely decorated. Why hadn’t I noticed that before?

“Charlotte?” he asked.

“Biscuits. I’m making biscuits.”

“Are we talking British for cookie, or British for scone?”

This made me frown. “Why British?”

“I heard Michael has been training you.”

“Wouldn’t that be French?” I asked. “He is French, isn’t he?”

This caused Ivan to throw his head back and laugh. “No, Michael is English. One of the best chefs in the world. I thought of stealing him away, but Ive’s got his loyalty.”

This was totally news to me. Michael had always spoken with a French accent.

“I’m so confused,” I said.

“Oh, Michael is a man of many talents. Two years ago, he spoke with a Spanish accent, and then an Italian one. He’s learning the language and as he does, he tries to use the correct pronunciation and dialect.”

“So, he’s learning French. That’s kind of cool.”

“Yeah, until he gets bored and moves on.”

“You don’t think that’s cool?” I asked.

“All learning is welcome, but when it’s wasted, I don’t see the point.”

“How is it wasted? He would be able to travel the world. Go to places and talk to people.”

Ivan stared at me. “Do you have wanderlust?”

“No.” I never had any desire to travel. In fact, the past month had been the best days of my life so far.

“If you wanted to, all you’d have to do is ask Ive.”

This made me smile. To ask my husband for anything, I’d have to know a way to get in touch with him, or to see him.

“So, tell me how to make these biscuits,” he said.

I was no expert, but he seemed insistent. I didn’t quite get Ivan Volkov. I knew he was a monster and he was willing to do unspeakable things. People were afraid of him. He had a reputation that even made my father hesitate. My father never hesitated, he was never afraid. He was more than willing to take on any battle, or cause a war. He had a bloodlust, but Ivan Volkov caused that man to fear. Why? How?

I talked Ivan through making biscuits. I told him the measurements I used, including the baking powder, bicarbonate of soda, and salt. The salt was important as Michael refused to buy salted butter. All the butter we had was unsalted. He liked to be able to control the amount of salt he used.

After they were mixed, I got him to add the sugar. I didn’t know if this was right, but it seemed to be working. It did make mixing in the butter feel a little grainy, but oh well. With everything well mixed, it was time for the cold cubed butter, which he had to do himself.


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