Page 188 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

Before he can finish the insult, Artem is in motion.

He hurls the dagger that I used to kill Misha.

It flies through the air and hits Leonid right between the eyes. He drops to the ground instantly, taking Tamara down with him.

Her screams penetrate the air, but Artem drops to his knees and slams his palm over her mouth.

“Enough. That’s enough, you’re all right.”

Tamara starts sobbing uncontrollably as I run over and kneel down beside her. I can see the dagger protruding out of the dead man’s forehead.

But I don’t look any closer.

I don’t want the nightmares.

“Tamara,” I say, grabbing her hands. “Tamara…”

I don’t know what else to say apart from that. The idea of comforting her now feels strange and unnatural somehow.

Probably because I can’t seem to reconcile the cousin I knew and loved with the woman who ratted me out to a killer.

Her eyes find mine. I see the shame and guilt written across her tear-stained face.

“Oh, Esme… Esme, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry,” she sobs. “I didn’t want to… but he… He threatened to kill me. He told me that if you ever contacted me, I was to inform him immediately. Esme, I’m so sorry.”

I hold her hands tightly, marring her pale skin with the fresh blood that’s all over me.

Our eyes meet. I wonder if I’ll ever see her again.

“Esme…”

“We have to leave now,” Artem interrupts, grabbing me and pulling me to my feet, breaking my hold on Tamara.

She stares up at us with a shell-shocked expression on her face.

“You’re going…?”

Sirens sound in the distance.

Artem’s right. We have to go, but for some reason, my legs aren’t budging.

“Esme,” Artem growls again.

“I can’t just leave her.” I’m staring down at Tamara and seeing only the bright-eyed little girl I once knew.

“You have no choice,” he snaps, pulling me towards the stairwell next to the elevators.

“The police…?” I whisper.

“The police are the last of our fucking problems,” Artem says. “Another contingent of Budimir’s men will be on their way by now.”

“Esme!” Tamara cries out hysterically.

Even as Artem pulls me along, I crane my neck back to stare at her.

“I’m sorry,” I say, a tear slipping loose from my left eye. “I’m sorry, Tamara. I have to go.”

She says my name one more time. It’s pitiful. Heartbreaking. Her voice teeters on the brink of collapse.

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