Page 24 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

Released from his grasp, I try to run again. If I can just reach the door, call for help…

But my legs are shaky and he’s three times my height and ten times my bodyweight.

With one huge hand, he slams me back against the closed door of a stall. The impact sends stars shooting across my vision.

The man’s eyes narrow to ugly slits as he moves towards me.

I’ve succeeded mostly in pissing him off, apparently.

Well, buddy, there’s more where that came from.

When he’s close enough, I jam my knee upwards into his groin.

He grunts in pain. Unfortunately, my aim was off, so he doesn’t go down like I intended him to.

Instead, I have just enough time to see his palm slice across the air towards me.

In the next second, pain erupts on the side of my face. The shooting stars double and my vision goes black at the edges.

By the time I process that he just slapped me—hell, he might’ve given me a concussion with how hard he swung—he’s got his hands on me.

He yanks up the front of my dress and rips it in the process. All that’s left is my panties between him and me.

I continue to fight even though I know I can’t win. Writhing, screaming, thrashing with all my might.

At this point, it’s a matter of pride.

I will not just lie still.

I will not justacceptbeing assaulted.

I will fight him every step of the way. He’ll have to knock me unconscious if he wants me to lay back and take it.

He seems to realize exactly that as his hands close in around my neck.

“I will break every bone in your body, you little bitch,” he snarls at me. “Fucking cut it out.”

“Go ahead!” I scream back at him. “Break every bone in my body. It still won’t make you a fucking man.”

His eyes go wide with anger and his meaty fingers tighten around my neck. My vision blurs more.

His other hand is scrabbling at his fly, trying to unzip and pull himself out so he can finish what he started.

I feel the sting of incoming tears, but I squeeze my eyes against them.

I refuse to let him see me cry. Maybe I can’t stop him from taking my body.

But he doesn’t get to take my dignity with it.

I gasp in pain as his nails scratch my thighs. His hand on my throat is so tight I can barely breathe.

Don’t you cry, Esme. Don’t you dare cry.

“Get the fuck off her.”

My eyes fly open. I look towards the door, in the direction of the deep, commanding voice.

And I see him standing there. Like some kind of dark avenging angel.

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