Gilded Tears: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 2) Nicole Fox (no david read aloud TXT) 📖

I should have given you the life you deserve. You should never have had to take a job that’s beneath you or sleep in a shelter or…”

“I’m the one who chose to leave,” I point out. “I never apologized for that.”

Artem falls silent at that, his expression flickering with conflict, and I realize something.

He’s angry at me for leaving.

I take his hand. He meets my gaze. He knows what I’m thinking. He knows I can see that these months haven’t been easy for him, either.

“You should have said goodbye,” he grits finally. It looks like it hurts him to admit that he was wounded by that.

“If I had, I would never have left.”

“Exactly.”

We look at each other for a long, tense moment. So many unspoken things flying back and forth between us.

Love and hate and hardship and the desperate fire that’s kept us coming back for more and more and more of each other from the start.

It’s overwhelming. I can’t look away but I can’t keep staring into his eyes and feeling like my soul is completely bared.

So I whisper, “Artem…”

He silences me with his lips.

I gasp against his mouth. I feel Phoenix’s little fingers cling to my hair but I let that go as I kiss my husband.

His tongue slides between my lips, hot and insistent. I let him come in. Claim my mouth. Taste me tasting him.

Until I’m forced to break the kiss because of the growing discomfort in my chest. I wince as Phoenix tugs on my hair harder.

“Sorry,” I apologize. “I need to feed him.”

Artem smiles. “Go ahead, kukolka.”

“We still have a lot to talk about,” I remind him.

“I know. But for right now… let’s just be together.”

And really, there’s no way I can resist that.

33

Artem

Fuck.

Four missed calls from Maxim and two from Adrik.

“You okay?” Esme asks as she comes out of the bedroom, holding Phoenix.

“Of course,” I say. “I just noticed that you don’t have any food.”

Esme bites her lower lip. “Yeah, well… I kinda live day-to-day.”

“Don’t worry,” I reply. “I’ll go out now and get a couple of things.”

“Okay,” Esme says without argument. “I’ll see you in the evening then?”

“Evening?” I repeat, turning to her.

“I have to go in to work today,” she tells me like it’s unavoidable.

My eyes narrow. I step forward. “You’re not going to work today. Or any day.”

Esme raises her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“Esme, that job is beneath you. It’s not what you want to do,” I tell her. “And you don’t have to anymore.”

“But—”

“Tell me you like going in to work every day, and I won’t say another word,” I challenge.

She hesitates. I can see her contemplating a proud lie.

Then she sighs. “Fine. I don’t like the job.”

“Then don’t do it,” I tell her. “You’re not on your own anymore. I’m here.”

I see the light spark in her eyes. Hope kindling.

Again, I feel the guilt resurface. We still haven’t discussed our plans for the future.

Esme still has no idea that I’m poised to take over control of the Bratva.

I have to tell her—I know that. But I’m selfish enough to cling to the moments before then.

One more morning. One more day. One more hour.

Then I’ll tell her.

Then I’ll explain.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

I’m not even sure what that questions means.

Am I sure about what?

Her?

Us?

“I’m sure,” I answer firmly.

“Okay,” she says with a smile. “But I think I’ll go in anyway and explain it to them.”

“If that’s what you want.” I pull out my wallet and pull out a couple of hundred-dollar bills. “In case you see anything you want on your walk.”

“You don’t have to do that,” she says, eyeing the money almost suspiciously.

“I haven’t been around for a while. Just take it. To make me feel better if nothing else.”

She laughs and accepts the money. I snag her wrist and pull her close to me so I can kiss her hard, my lips pressing up hungrily against hers.

If we’d been alone, we’d probably be fucking on the floor right now.

But we have a son now.

Things are different.

And I’m all right with that.

Esme leaves a few minutes later. The minute she’s out of the apartment, I grab my phone and call Maxim back. He picks up almost immediately.

“Boss.”

“What do you have for me?” I ask, jumping straight into it.

“Anton Yahontov,” Maxim says immediately. “He’s a brigadier working for Budimir. Too low ranking for us to consider a real threat, but he’s only a few miles away from you right now.”

I freeze. “What?”

“I thought he was tailing you for a while,” Maxim replies. “But not the case. He has a home in town.”

“That’s good to know.”

“It might be worth paying him a visit.”

“And why’s that?” I ask.

“Because my sources tell me he’s been in a few meetings with Budimir’s goons,” Maxim tells me. “He may not have sensitive information for us, but he might have something.”

I clench my fist. Finally, a fucking break in this brewing guerilla war. “Then I’ll stop by and say hello,” I reply darkly.

“Got it, boss,” Maxim replies. “And congrats on finding her, by the way.”

“How the fuck do you know that?” I demand.

He chuckles low. “It’s in your voice. You don’t sound half dead anymore.”

Cheeky motherfucker.

“Keep me posted,” I growl, fighting to keep a smirk off my face.

“Will do, boss,” Maxim answers. “I’ll drop you his location.”

The line goes dead and a couple of seconds later, my phone pings with a location alert.

I leave the apartment, jump in my car, and drive straight to the house.

It’s nestled in the deep suburbs of the town, but I’m not worried. I can be in and out with no one being the wiser.

The house is run down, obviously neglected, but it’s clear that someone’s inside. There’s a car parked in the driveway and the blinds have been drawn.

I stake the place out for an hour but it seems he’s the only one inside.

Considerate of him to make this so easy for me.

Once I’m confident we’re not going to be interrupted, I turn off my engine and decide