Page 74 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

I raise my hand. “Guards!”

Esme’s head snaps to the side the moment I call for them. Two of my men storm out onto the balcony and go right for her.

Before they can grab her, Esme pushes her chair back violently and backs away from both of them.

“Don’t you dare touch me, you pigs.”

They look at me.

I nod.

And without another word, they scoop her up, one grabbing her arms and the other her legs.

She screams and thrashes. Her hair flays wildly and that silver dress sparkles in the moonlight with every twist of her body.

“You bastard!” she yells as they carry her away.

I just sit where I am, breathing heavily.

Esme is strong, but I’m stronger.

And Iwillbreak her. That’s a fucking promise.

19

Esme

When I wake up the next day, I’m still wearing the silver dress from the night before.

Apparently, I was too busy crying myself to sleep to remember to take it off.

I’d like to go back to sleep, as a matter of fact. But the sun coming through the massive wall of windows has other ideas.

As does Artem’s house staff.

The door bursts without so much as a knock. I immediately scramble back against the headboard and cover myself with the comforter—not that that provides much in the way of protection.

I’m expecting Artem again.

But it’s not him.

It’s one of the sour-faced guards who manhandled me back into this room last night after Artem abruptly decided our romantic rooftop dinner had reached its conclusion.

“What do you want?” I hiss at him.

He looks at me with a blank expression on his face. Something tells me he’s not exactly a rocket scientist.

“You are to get ready,” he tells me in a subtle Russian accent. “Your car arrives in one hour.”

I frown. “Where am I going?”

The guard’s answer is to turn his back on me and leave just as unceremoniously as he entered.

“Where’s Artem?” I yell to his retreating back.

No answer to that, either.

The door clicks shut.

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