Page 85 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

“That’s okay,” he replies with a wink. “I have a few other surprises planned for tonight.”

I have to suppress a sigh, but I don’t need to ask because I have a good idea about the kind of surprise that Budimir has in mind.

Strippers.

Hookers.

Drugs.

Drinks.

Everything our money and power can get us, in quantities that would kill lesser men.

None of it is appealing in the least.

I wonder what Esme is doing right now. She spent the whole day shopping on Rodeo Drive.

A part of me secretly wishes I had been with her.

I relish the thought of sitting there while she parades in front of me in outfit after outfit, her body on display for me to admire.

To look at her and think,I own that now.

Something about the feeling that image provokes is unsettling.

I pull out my phone and check the live security feed of my penthouse. All I have to do is type in my password and I can see exactly what’s going on in my apartment at any time.

I had three extra cameras installed in Esme’s room before she arrived. It was just a precaution, but now I’m glad I did.

I see her sitting at her dressing table brushing out her hair. She looks tired, reserved.

She’s wearing a long silky robe that covers her body entirely. Not an inch of skin to be seen, and yet she still looks like a fucking dream.

“What are you doing?”

I close the feed before Cillian can lean in and see what I’m up to.

“Nothing,” I say quickly. “Just… work.”

“It’s your bachelor party, Artem,” Budimir booms. “Put your fucking phone away! I’m going to make a toast.”

A full glass is shoved in my hand and Budimir raises his already half-empty glass. All around us, his entourage does the same.

“To my nephew! May your new wife’s pussy be as tight and beautiful as the rest of her.”

My fingers clench around the glass I’m holding. I set it down quickly before I break it.

Everyone else drinks, so I’m hoping no one notices that I don’t.

Unfortunately, Budimir doesn’t shut his fucking trap once the toast is out of the way.

“Here are some words of advice, Artem,” Budimir tells me. “Never forget who or what she is. Don’t be fooled by her pretty face either, or the sweet nectar between her thighs. She’ll seduce you like the whore she is, but she’s never going to be loyal. Women don’t know the meaning of the word.”

I can feel the vein in my forehead throb.

“What makes you think she’s a whore?” I growl before I can stop myself.

Budimir cocks one eyebrow. “She’s a Moreno, isn’t she?”

---