Gilded Cage: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 1) by Nicole Fox (best books for 20 year olds .txt) 📕

“Cillian…?”

His eyes pull away from the still water of the pool and turn to me.

“We’ve known each other a fucking life time,” I say. “You’ve never told me the whole story. Not like that. Why now?”

He attempts a smile that falters slightly. “We’re in deep shit right now,” he says. “Guess I was reminiscing about the last time I felt this way. I figure if I don’t make it through this shitstorm, I want you to know my whole story.”

The words are ominous.

“We’ve been through shit storms before,” I remind him. “We made it through those and we’ll make it through this.”

“We weren’t fighting against Budimir Kovalyov,” Cillian points out.

“He hasn’t earned his reputation,” I say, my tone going flat with loathing. “But I’m about to earn mine. After I’m through with my uncle, no one will ever dare cross the Bratva again.”

He smiles. “If anyone can take on the old fucker, you can.”

“We can.”

We lapse into a deep silence, each pulled in to our own thoughts. Even the sweat on our beers has cooled now.

I glance back towards the bedroom, where I can see Esme through the half-parted blinds.

She’s still lost in sleep, her back to me.

“So… Esme’s pregnant huh?” Cillian asks, breaking the silence.

I was wondering when he would broach the subject. It’s not like we’d had much of a chance to discuss it up until now.

I nod.

“You found out from the clinic?”

“Fucking felt like I was punched in the stomach,” I reply with a glance at him. “She’s four months along.”

Cillian turns to me with a startled expression. “What the—”

“The baby’s mine,” I say before he can ask.

“Um, brother, I know your math has never been very good but—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I say, suppressing a laugh. “I never told you about the first time Esme and I met.”

“The first time?” Cillian says, frowning. “What the fuck are you talking about? Did you get it in with her while the rest of us were shooting guards in that fucking cartel compound?”

I shake my head. “It was months earlier… in The Siren.”

“The Siren?” Cillian repeats, just before his eyes go wide with realization. “That’s why you were so obsessed with that place after the Polish gang incident!”

“I wasn’t fucking ‘obsessed.’”

Cillian smacks his knee with his hand and laughs. “Well, fuck me,” he exclaims, shaking his head. “What are the fucking chances?”

I nod, still amazed by the coincidence.

“So she would have been pregnant when we stormed the compound?”

“She was.”

“Fuck,” Cillian says, drawing out the word. “And she didn’t tell you?”

“Not a fucking word.”

There’s three seconds of silence. I look at him strangely.

“What? You’ve got that fucking look in your eye. I hate that look.”

“Artem… you’re in love with her.”

I bristle at his words, feeling strangely exposed by them. “Fuck off.”

Cillian laughs. “Why do you bother lying to me?” he asks. “I know you too well.”

“I think it’s time for you to go,” I say, but my tone is clearly teasing.

We’re both laughing, but Cillian runs a hand through his hair and straightens up. “I really should get going. We’ve been sitting here for hours.”

We stand up together and quietly make our way through the room to the other side of the motel. Esme’s stirring a little, trying to find a comfortable position.

When Cillian and I step outside the room, I see the white hatchback parked down below, half-shrouded by darkness.

“Cillian…” I say, as he turns to me.

“I know, brother,” he interrupts. “Stay safe. Stay smart.”

I nod. “Contact me when you establish a safehouse. I’ll do the same.”

He offers me his hand and I clasp it hard, pulling him to me for a hug. When we pull back, I feel the seriousness of this parting settle over me. The second time in just a few days we’ve done this, and it hasn’t gotten any easier.

“This is just another fight we’re gonna win,” I tell him. “The stakes may be higher, but the outcome will be the same.”

Cillian nods without a single shred of doubt in his eye. “See you around, brother.”

He stops at the staircase and turns back towards me.

“Oh and Artem?”

“Yeah?”

“Congrats,” he says with his signature carefree smile. “You’re gonna be a dad.”

I smile and watch him walk down the stairs and across the lot to the hatchback. He gets in and, with a wave, drives off into the night.

54

Artem

I suppress the unease I feel after parting ways with Cillian and head back into the room.

Esme is sitting up, looking at me with a half-dazed expression that makes me pause.

“Artem?” She sounds worried.

“You’re okay,” I say, as I walk to her bedside. “You’re safe now.”

She rubs the sleep from her eyes and looks down at the unfamiliar t-shirt she’s wearing. “I’m not wearing any pants.”

“You were covered in blood and sweat,” I tell her. “I cleaned you up as best I could.”

“Oh,” she says. “Oh.”

Before I can second-guess the instinct, I place my hand on hers. She glances down for a moment and then lifts her eyes to mine.

“I think I need a shower,” she tells me, her voice still a little hoarse with sleep. “Not that you didn’t do a great job or anything.

“No hard feelings,” I laugh. “There’s a towel in the bathroom and a fresh set of clothes in the bag if you need it.”

I offer her my hand and help her out of bed. She walks slowly towards the bag on the floor, as though she’s still trying to get her bearings. She picks it up, but instead of looking inside, she pauses, then turns slowly to face me again.

“Artem?” Esme says, her voice shaking a little.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

I walk to her immediately, take her hand and pull her into the tiny bathroom. She pulls off the t-shirt and then slips off her panties.

I try and control my desire as I see the soft V between her legs and the glorious swell of her breasts.

She steps into the shower and turns the water on, gasping as a cold spray assaults her