Page 15 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

I realize how much I actually want to go.

A night out with my cousin—who has never even heard of the concept of having something to worry about—sounds like the perfect antidote to all my despair.

But then I think of Miguel.

The image of him beaten and bloodied on that chair has haunted me for days now.

What happened to him was my fault.

“I don’t know,” I say nervously. “Let’s just enjoy our spa appointments, okay? We don’t have to do anything reckless right now.”

Tamara sighs noisily but I ignore her and swap my clothes out for the soft robes that were left for us.

I settle on the spa table and try to relax, but I realize how tense my body is. No matter how much I try to breathe, I can never get enough air into my lungs.

This is what my life is going to be for the next several decades.

Perfect.

Pampered.

And completely horrible.

Endless spa appointments, private piano performances for Papa’s colleagues, eventually a nightmare of a wedding to some pig of a man.

I’ll be a living, breathing doll with no voice and no freedom. Forever trapped in my colorless world, counting regrets like other people count money.

I sit up suddenly, get off the table, and reach for my clothes.

Tamara looks at me in alarm. “Chica, what’s going on?”

“New plan. Let’s get out of here right this second,” I say, before I can change my mind.

“What?”

“Let’s go,” I say.

A dazzling smile lights up Tamara’s face. “Now we’re fucking talking. Follow my lead.”

5

Esme

I follow Tamara back through the spa, towards the entrance. The doors are closed, but I know my guards will still be at their posts just outside.

“How do you plan on doing this without being seen?” I ask.

Tamara throws me a pitying look. “Oh, sweet, innocent Esme,” she murmurs. “Do you really think there’s only one way in and out of here?”

“You’re heading for the entrance,” I point out.

“You really don’t pay attention, do you?” Tamara asks. “There was a door to the left as we walked in. Staff quarters. There’ll be an exit through there.”

Tam is a psycho, but she’s a fun psycho. Life always works out for people like her.

And, true to form, it works perfectly and smoothly. The staff quarters are empty, with an exit door at the far side of the room like the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.

We’re about three steps away from freedom—when the door opens and one of the spa therapists comes in.

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