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

both of Budimir’s men flanking her. She walks stiffly, her back arched straight, her hands barely moving.

The closer she gets, the more I can see the signs of struggle in her appearance. Her clothes have been torn in places, and there’s a smattering of blood splayed across her blouse.

Worst of all, there’s a trapped look in her eyes that I hate seeing.

Like she’s back in a cage she thought she’d left for good.

I step forward instinctively.

“Nuh-uh,” Budimir reprimands, shaking a finger at me. “You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“Fuck you!” I practically yell, my rage bursting free through clenched teeth.

“Careful now,” my uncle warns me. “Or I might stop being so nice. Do you really want to watch the life drain from your wife’s face while you stand there and watch?”

The guards come to a stop a few feet away from Budimir. There’s about four long strides between my uncle and Esme.

Too fucking close for my liking.

I turn my gaze towards Budimir. “You’re the one who should be careful,” I tell him. “Because I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done.”

He cocks his head to the side. “Does that mean you’re rejecting my offer?”

I glance towards Kian, and then towards Esme.

“You can take your offer and shove it up your ass, traitor.”

Budimir clenches his jaw for a moment. His eyes churn, calculating his next move.

He’s nervous about a full-blown battle. He doesn’t want to risk losing. Nor does he want to risk his own life in the process.

That’s always what mattered most to him.

“Maybe we should ask your pretty little wife for her opinion,” Budimir suggests. “Considering we’re discussing the future of her son, too.”

Esme looks towards me with confusion, but I already know what she’s going to say.

I know my wife. This is just another one of Budimir’s mind games.

“Go ahead,” I say with a shrug. “Ask her.”

“Are you so sure of her response?”

“I don’t have a single doubt.”

Budimir’s smile is less convincing this time. He looks towards Esme. She freezes instinctively, her body cringing back as she’s forced to meet his eye.

“I’ve given your husband two choices,” he tells her amicably. “He’s overpowered, in men and in strength, but I’ve decided to be generous.”

She doesn’t move a muscle.

Budimir continues, “His choice is simple: give up his claim to the Bratva and surrender his son to my custody. I will raise the boy myself, give him all the perks and luxuries of a don’s son and when the time comes, he will take over the mantel of don.”

It strikes me that Esme listens to all of this without much of a reaction. Her eyes widen for only a moment before she seems to get a hold of herself.

“What will happen to me?” Esme asks, after a moment’s pause.

I hadn’t expected her to ask questions, but I wonder if she’s trying to buy time, too.

“You will have a choice just the same,” Budimir says with a sickly-sweet smile that I don’t trust at all. “You can stay with your son on this compound as my concubine.”

“And Artem?” she asks without blinking.

Budimir raises his eyebrows. “Artem cannot be allowed to live,” he says calmly. “But you already know that.”

Esme doesn’t even look at me. I see her fingers twitch.

“What’s my other choice?” she asks.

“Well, then, you will die,” Budimir says matter-of-factly. “Just like your husband will die and your son will die.”

She glances in my direction but she’s still not looking me in the eye. It’s starting to make me feel strange.

Why the fuck is she not looking at me?

“Artem,” Esme says to me. But she’s still looking square at Budimir. “Phoenix is my son, too. I should get to decide.”

Fear wraps itself around my chest. “You can’t trust him. Fighting him is our only way out of this.”

“If he wins, we all die,” Esme says. “Including Phoenix.”

“See, Artem?” Budimir smiles at me. “Even your woman can see that’s there’s only one viable path here. Sometimes fighting is not the smart choice.”

“Esme…”

“I can’t risk my son, Artem,” Esme says, her eyes meeting mine for the first time.

She looks terrified, but determined. She looks like she’s made up her mind and she’s not going to back out now.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, moving forward.

But she doesn’t move towards me—she moves toward Budimir.

“Try and understand. I’ll lose you both. But this way… I can save my son.”

“You’re making a mistake, Esme,” I say, my voice carrying across the room to her.

I see a tear slip down her cheek. It catches the light of the chandelier and looks golden from where I stand.

A single gilded tear.

She shakes her head at me.

“Let me do this, Artem,” she says. “Tell your men to put down their weapons.”

“Esme—”

But my words are drowned out by Budimir’s laugh. “It seems you overestimated her affection for you, dear nephew.”

Then he glances at Esme and extends his hand out to her.

“You’re a smart girl,” he murmurs. “And you’ve made a wise decision.”

I stare in shock.

Esme steps forward and puts her hand in Budimir’s.

What the fuck is happening right now?

I know Esme.

The Esme I know would never choose Budimir over me.

I meet her eyes, those beautiful honey-gold eyes that lit a flame in my chest so long ago. A flame I’ve never let die. It feels like the ending of a chapter.

My heart aches.

Then she moves so fast, that it takes everyone—including me—a moment to catch up.

The hidden blade in her hand slashes through the air and into Budimir’s throat. He doesn’t see it coming until the blade has buried itself to the hilt.

His eyes go wide in horror and shock as he realizes the mistake he’s made.

He let Esme get too close.

He let his guard down.

And it cost him his life.

That’s the price of underestimating Esme Kovalyov.

46

Artem

My men take advantage of the moment and move on Budimir’s soldiers. With their boss dead, most of them give up immediately.

The few who struggle or attempt to run are cut down immediately.

But I’m not concerned with anyone but Esme.

I rush