Page 156 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

The guard by the window pulls out a cell phone and starts talking in fast Russian. Something about his tone seems weird, almost conspiratorial, but I can’t put my finger on it.

The guard hangs up and says something to his colleague. Their voices are gruff, giving their accents a sinister edge.

Then, to my amazement, they leave my room.

I open my eyes slightly and check to make sure I’m alone.

Is this a test?

A moment later, I decide—fuck it, I don’t care. If it’s a test, then I’m failing with flying colors.

I open my eyes all the way and sit up.

Wasting no time, I yank the IV out of the back of my hand. I hiss at the stab of pain and press down the bedsheet to stop the blood from bubbling up through the injection point.

Then I swing my legs off the bed and gingerly put one foot on the ground at a time. I move slowly, making sure I’m steady on my feet before I start walking. I don’t want to faint or lose my balance before I even get out of this room.

Next on the agenda—clothes or shoes, if I can find them. This lilac-green hospital nightie is good for showing the world my ass and not much else besides that.

Scouring the room, I locate a thin cupboard in the corner next to the window. I go straight for it and throw open the doors to find a folded pair of my jeans, a t-shirt, and a sweater.

Obviously, Artem had a few of my things brought here from the apartment.

I discard my hospital gown quickly and pull on the jeans first.

I’ve just put on the t-shirt when I hear footsteps approaching my room. Panicking, I stumble to the window and peer outside.

The window looks out onto a narrow balcony that’s obviously used for maintenance, but if I can get out onto it, I’ll be able to shimmy down to the proper balcony on the lower floor and keep going like that until I’m on the ground.

Of course, my whole plan teeters on whether or not this window is locked.

I’m just about to try the window when the footsteps get louder. I freeze, my eyes turning towards the door as I wait to be discovered.

Oh, God…

And then whoever is outside my room keeps walking right on past it.

Pulling myself together, I remember to breathe as I turn my attention back to the window. I say a silent prayer and push it open.

Relief floods through me when it swings wide without a problem.

Scratch that—it gets to about a thirty-degree angle before it gets stuck.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

I hear more voices congregating outside the room. If I don’t get out now, I can kiss my chances of escape goodbye.

And Ihaveto escape. There is no way I can stay.

Not now, knowing what I know about Artem. About what he’s done.

I have to protect myself.

But more importantly, I have to protect my baby.

Drawing strength from that, I put all my strength against the window and push as hard as I can. The window moves two more inches but I keep pushing anyway.

I need at least another inch or two if I’m going to be able to get out onto the balcony.

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