Page 205 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“He’s clearly not Russian, though.”

Artem laughs. “What gave him away?”

“The fact that he sounds like Bono doing a Lucky Charms commercial.”

At that, Artem nearly spits out his coffee. It’s not lost on me how much I like his laughter. How rare it is, how warm, how genuine.

“I guess I was just wondering how the two of you became friends in the first place,” I continue once he’s calmed down.

“I got into a fight with five fuckers who thought they could take me,” Artem explains. “I would have won too, if it hadn’t been for the fact that I was ever-so-slightly drunk. Anyway, Cillian stepped in and helped me out. From then on, he’s always had my back. I’ve always had his.”

“It must be nice,” I say, feeling a twinge of loss. “To have a friend like that. All I ever had was Tamara.”

Artem’s looks at me with a careful expression, and I can tell he’s wondering what to say to me.

But I don’t really need him to say much. I realize that I just need the catharsis of speaking out loud.

“She was my only real female friend, you know,” I continue. “I was home-schooled and Papa didn’t exactly encourage me to get out and meet new people. Tamara visited a lot. She was the only one that was pre-approved and that was because she was also my cousin.”

“Sounds lonely.”

“It wasn’t so much when I was younger,” I say. “I had Cesar.”

I lift my eyes to Artem’s. He looks relaxed, but I can see the whites of his knuckles, the way his eyes grow still and tense as he looks at me.

“You still haven’t told me… how it happened,” I whisper, feeling a lump rise in my throat.

“I will tell you,” Artem says seriously. “But not today.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not the right time.”

“That’s a cop out,” I accuse.

“Perhaps.”

“Artem…”

He sighs and I can feel that we’ve come to yet another stalemate.

“Is the story so bad?” I ask.

“It’s complicated, Esme,” he tells me. “There’s a lot you don’t know about your brother.”

“You’ve said that before.”

“Because it’s true,” he replies. His eyes go dark and opaque in a way that I haven’t seen for a long time.

It reminds me of the time not so long ago when he was just a stranger—cold and secretive.

Which begs the question… what is he now?

“You hate him, don’t you?” I say softly.

He hesitates. I know that it’s only for my benefit.

“I can see it in your eyes, Artem.”

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