Page 81 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

My eyes flare wide as I stare him down. “Would you like me to give you a detailed explanation of my lady problems?”

He looks instantly uncomfortable. I have to resist the urge to laugh.

It’s the most expressive I’ve seen him all day.

“Okay, we’ll stop by a pharmacy,” he nods. “But you have only ten minutes.”

When we get to the pharmacy, I hurry inside as Blue Eyes stays by the entrance. Thankful to have gotten a few moments of privacy, I steal towards the pharmacist’s counter and stop in front of the portly older woman behind a glass partition.

“What can I help you with, dear?” she asks without so much as looking up at me.

My fingers shake just a little, but I ring them together and force them back to steadiness.

I need to do this.

But I absolutely cannot let Artem find out.

“Um… I just need to know… what do I take for a healthy pregnancy?”

21

Artem

Artem’s Office

I close the page on one file and reach for the next one just as Cillian appears at the door to my office.

His brow furrows.

“Can I help you?” I drawl.

“According to the boys, you’ve been here all day.”

“And that’s cause for concern?”

Cillian steps into my spacious office and crosses the room. He rests his hands on the chair opposite my desk but he doesn’t sit down.

“It’s not like you to spend the day at the office,” he says. “Much less spend it doing paperwork. Can you even read?”

“Fuck off,” I mutter.

He’s not wrong, but I need the distraction. There’s a certain dark-haired temptress at home who was making it very difficult for me to control my baser impulses.

It doesn’t help that I know exactly how giving into those impulses would feel.

Last night after dinner, my cock had risen with my anger. I’d been forced to jack off to the memory of our night together in The Siren. I was disgusted by how irresistible the temptation was.

“Anyway, someone needs to do it,” I say dismissively. “And I know you’re not much of one for administrative tasks.”

“And someone will,” Cillian replies. “I just never expectedyouto be that someone. Especially considering you have a fiancé at home waiting for you.”

I raise my eyes to him. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?” he asks innocently.

“Don’t pretend that this is anything like a real relationship,” I say. “She’s not my fiancée. She’s not my anything. And she’s certainly not waiting for me.”

“And thus we’ve arrived at the heart of the issue. You’re avoiding her!” he announces triumphantly. He looks way too pleased with himself.

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