Page 259 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

Artem groans. “It’s honestly not worth telling,” he demurs. “It’s actually a really embarrassing story. One I don’t mind forgetting.”

“I just don’t understand how he got his blood all over you.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

I stumble back from the mountain edge as my eyes dart around, searching for the security that I felt only moments ago.

His story had been strange from the get-go. It hadn’t really made sense to me, so why had I believed him so easily?

Because you love him.

Because you wanted to cling to an idealistic dream rather than face harsh realities.

“Oh, God,” I breathe.

But my words are drowned out by the birds’ shrieks. I don’t even hear myself.

I force myself to breathe through the pain in my chest. I need to get my head back together before I return to the cabin.

I try to think through things logically. It is definitely possible that Artem had nothing to do with the dead body down the ravine. That’s probably likely, as a matter of fact.

But in the same moment I consider that possibility, I dismiss it.

There are just too many clues.

Too many coincidences.

And now that the blindfold has been stripped from my eyes, I can’t go back to denial.

Who was that man?

Why had Artem killed him?

Were there others?

And if there were, had Artem killed them all?

I take deep, gulping breaths until I stop feeling so off balance. But the squawk of the birds now feel like someone is trying to drill holes through my brain.

I need to get away from the sound, so I keep walking, trying to put as much distance between myself and the dead man as I possibly can.

When the sound of bird cries has faded with distance, I allow myself to slump to a seat on a mossy rock. I support my head with my hands and try once more to calm myself.

We’ve been found. That’s the only explanation for what I just saw down the ravine.

We’ve been found and Artem did what he had to do. Defended himself. Protected us.

The fact that he had murdered someone isn’t what’s upsetting me.

The fact that he lied to me about it—that’s what’s breaking my heart.

When I look back up, I feel tears drying on my cheeks. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

I look across to the mountains in the distance, but nothing feels the same. The serenity that accompanied me on my walk through the trail has now abandoned me completely.

That’s why he didn’t tell you.

He was just trying to protect you.

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