Page 265 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

I shake my head. “No,” I say firmly. “She was strong. But her strength was different than yours.”

Esme smiles slightly, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. I squeeze her hand once more, reminding her to stay with me.

“She was upset about the hours I worked, the pace I was going at. She wanted me to make her a priority.”

“Oh,” Esme breathes. “And you weren’t?”

“I was young,” I admit. “I was consumed with proving myself. I wanted to be…”

“You wanted to be the next don,” Esme finishes for me.

I nod slowly. “Yes, that’s exactly what I wanted to be.”

Her expression falls slack for a moment, as though she’s weighing everything I’ve just said against her hopes.

“Esme,” I say, pulling her face towards mine. “I never imagined I would walk away from the Bratva… until just now.”

Her eyes spark a little. She wants to believe me so badly. But she’s scared to hope.

I can understand that.

“Don’t say that unless you mean it,” she whispers.

“I do mean it. I mean it with every fiber of my being.”

She leans in and kisses me hard, her lips pushing against mine with a force that parts them. I run my tongue down her bottom lip.

She trembles, her hands scratching at my shoulders desperately, hungrily.

I want to give myself to her.

I want to take everything she’s giving to me.

I want Esme Moreno to know that I love her. That I am here for her. That she and our baby are the only things left in this world that matter to me.

And then I hear something outside.

A sharp sound that sounds like a boot on gravel.

I pull back at once, my mind alert and my body instantly tense.

“What’s wrong?” Esme asks in alarm. She must not’ve heard the noise.

“Someone’s here,” I whisper as I rise from the sofa and glance out the open window of the cabin.

I can see the silhouette of our car, but nothing else.

“Artem…?”

“Wait here,” I say, as I hurry to the table in one corner of the room and grab the stolen pistol from the inside drawer. “Don’t move. Lock the door until I’m back.”

Esme’s eyes go wide as she watches me walk towards the door.

“Artem!” she begs, her voice barely above a whisper. “Please be careful.”

I nod and slip outside.

I see now what I couldn’t see before: a car parked right next to mine, blocking us in.

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