Gilded Tears: A Russian Mafia Romance (Kovalyov Bratva Book 2) by Nicole Fox (novels to read for beginners txt) 📗

I look up and Artem is waiting patiently for my answer. He looks calm, but I know he must be nervous about my answer.

“But if it’s the only way I can keep you in my life, and in Phoenix’s… I suppose I’ll have to accept it.”

There’s three seconds of silence and then Artem smiles.

“You’ll come back to L.A. with me?”

I nod.

A part of me always knew this was an inevitability. I’d known it from the moment Artem showed up at my doorstep.

For so long, I’ve been terrified of reliving the nightmare I lived in the Moreno compound under my father’s oppressive presence.

But I’m a stronger woman now.

And Artem is not Papa. He is a stronger man. A better man.

And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that he will protect me with his dying breath.

In the end, all I had to do was ask myself one simple question:

Do I love him?

And every time I ask myself that, no matter the circumstances, the answer stays the same. Every single fucking time.

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

35

Artem

A Few Days Later—Los Angeles, California

Esme is singing.

It’s a soft sound and I don’t even think she knows she’s doing it. Music just comes out of her when she’s happy, as easy as breathing.

I stand silently in the new apartment for a moment and listen. I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.

It’s been a few days since I found her again. Since we found each other again, really.

Having her and our son under one roof has been a blessing I don’t deserve. But I cherish every second like it’s priceless. Like I’ll never have it again.

The apartment is modest, settled in a good neighborhood that’s not overly flashy. I want Esme to be safe as well as comfortable, and that means flying under the radar for a little while.

When all this is over, I will buy her a proper home. I will give her the lifestyle she deserves.

But until then, I need to play it safe and not draw unwanted attention to ourselves.

Of course, Esme was thrilled with the place. It’s a spacious two-bedroom filled with natural light. Bright, clean, simple. Maxim made sure the kitchen and nursery were stocked prior to our arrival.

Esme’s singsong murmurs move from the kitchen to the second bedroom to check on Phoenix.

I’m about to go join her—to touch her bare hip and lean over her shoulder while she sings, to breathe in her scent, to feel her warmth against me; all those things I love—when my phone rings.

I pick it up despite the unidentifiable contact number.

“Yes?”

“Hey, sladkiy.”

“Svetlana,” I say. “Do you have any news for me?”

“I do indeed,” she says, enthusiasm shining through in her tone. “The dons’ council meeting is set for Wednesday. Over dinner and drinks, of course, rich old men being the fat pigs that they are. Eight o’clock is the designated time. At the Regency.”

“Excellent,” I say with a triumphant clench of the fist. “Do you have a guest list for me?”

“Not exactly,” Svetlana replies. “But I have a few names. Maggadino. Ambrosino. Guzik. Juarez.”

The name “Maggadino” makes my chest ache. One of the last conversations I ever had with my father was about that Italian asshole. I paid it little mind that day. Too angry to realize that my time with Stanislav was hurtling towards its end.

I don’t have time for those feelings right now, though.

I have a war to win.

Svetlana continues, “I happen to know that none of them have yet recognized Budimir as don yet. Your uncle thinks this meeting will be a step in the right direction.”

That makes me scowl. The thought of Budimir taking what’s rightfully mine is downright fucking nauseating.

Fucker doesn’t know what he’s in for.

“Did you manage to wrangle an invite to join him at the meeting?”

It’s a long shot. Even my horny uncle probably wouldn’t be dumb enough to bring a piece of ass to a business affair. But worth asking nonetheless.

“Unfortunately not,” Svetlana says wistfully.

I can tell that she’s disappointed by the exclusion. Apparently, not even her many talents can get Budimir to bend that far.

“He’s booked out the suite for the night, though,” she adds. “He wants me to wait there until after the council meeting is over.”

“He’s anticipating that this meeting will be successful,” I realize. “Wants you there to celebrate.”

“Or to punish, if things go badly,” Svetlana suggests darkly.

I grimace. That’s certainly not out of the question. But it won’t happen on my watch.

“I’ll have men stationed around the Regency,” I assure her. “I’ve assigned one to you specifically. In case things go south.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” I say. “Like I said, you’re a part of the team. And I protect my men… and women.”

“Thanks, darling,” she murmurs.

I hang up and turn to see Esme standing at the threshold of Phoenix’s room. She’s watching me carefully, clearly having heard some of my conversation.

“Who was that?” Esme asks.

“Her name’s Svetlana,” I reply. “She’s working undercover for me.”

Esme’s eyebrows rise. “Undercover?” she repeats. “Where?”

“I’ve positioned her… within Budimir’s inner circle.”

I keep it vague. No reason to stain her with the more unsavory aspects of what I’m doing to reclaim the Bratva.

Not because I don’t trust Esme, but because I want to spare her from the darker side of the world.

But she steps forward, her eyes trained on me, her expression curious, even interested.

“I know how mafia entourages work,” she tells me. “They comprise of the underbosses, security detail and… women, most of them prostitutes.”

I nod. “Svetlana is more than just a prostitute. She’s Bratva now.”

Esme’s eyes go wide for a moment. “She must be incredibly brave.”

She’s damn right about that. Svetlana is putting herself directly in the line of fire for my sake. “Her father spent his whole life in the mafia,” I tell her.

“So did mine,” she reminds me. “But I couldn’t do what she’s doing. It takes a special kind of woman to do a job like that.”

“True,” I reply. “But there are so many different