Page 97 of Gilded Cage (Kovalyov Bratva 1)

I tell myself it’s not because I want the scent of him on me.

In order to prove that to myself, I get up and soak in the tub for twenty minutes.

When I move back into my bedroom, I pick ripped black jeans and a white cashmere sweater, two purchases from yesterday’s shopping spree.

I’m just finishing dressing when there’s a knock on my door and Crew Cut walks in with his usual sour expression.

“Your car will be here in twenty minutes,” he says, like a programmed robot. “Breakfast is in the kitchen.”

“Where are we going today?” I ask him. “More shopping?”

He doesn’t bother replying. Just walks away.

I curse at his back and head into the kitchen. I’m not hungry, but I know it’s important for me to eat. For my unborn child to eat.

So I sit at the table alone, eat a croissant, and wash it down with some cold milk. I take my vitamins discretely back in my room, then head to the foyer by the elevator.

Blue Eyes and Crew Cut are waiting for me. For the first time, I notice that both are in their usual suits, but they seem somehow dressier than usual.

“What’s with the ties?” I ask when I spot the difference. “Is that a pocket square?”

Of course, neither one answers me. And when we walk out of the building, I’m more than a little surprised to see the stretch limo waiting for me.

“What the hell is this for?” I say to no one in particular, even as I get into the limo.

The drive is about fifteen minutes. The whole time, I try and figure out where I’m going that would require such a fancy ride.

Another question keeps nagging me, but I refuse to ask either one of my personal goons this time.

Where’s Artem?

It’s not until the limo stops in front of a grand cathedral that realization finally dawns on me.

“Oh, my fucking God.”

Today is my wedding day.

Panic is the only thing I’m aware of. Like getting sucked under a huge wave in the ocean, it’s all I can sense.

Then my door is pulled open and I start shaking my head.

“No,” I shriek. “No! I’m not getting out. This can’t happen!”

My bodyguards exchange a glance. Clearly, they’re prepared for just such a reaction.

They move in on me as a single, emotionless unit.

I scream and kick and try to escape their claws. But I’m no match for them.

They succeed in dragging me out of the limo while I curse their mothers and spit at their faces.

“No! You can’t do this!” I yell. “If Artem is such a strong fucking man, tell him to get out here and do this himself!”

Neither Blue Eyes nor Crew Cut seems inclined to do that.

Instead, Crew Cut grabs a hold of me and hoists me over his shoulder. He carries me into the cathedral, downstairs to a bottom level of the building, and into a corridor lined with rooms.

Blue Eyes opens a door for his comrade. I’m carried inside and deposited unceremoniously onto a soft sofa that cushions my rough landing.

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