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

set Phoenix in his crib to play while I take a quick shower. When I’m clean, I go to my new wardrobe and throw open its doors.

The day after we’d moved in here, Artem had brought a selection of clothes for me.

I knew it was probably superficial of me, but I was thrilled. I’d spent so many months living in the same two items that it felt amazing to be able to swap out my old clothes for new, stylish ones.

I choose dark jeans that fit me perfectly and I pair them with a teal silk blouse and a beige cashmere sweater that’s so soft I could sleep in it. I leave my hair loose around my shoulders and then I change Phoenix. Artem brough in a selection of clothes for him too, but only a few.

He’d understood that I might want to do most of his shopping on my own.

And that’s precisely what I planned on doing today.

I put a fresh diaper on Phoenix and then I help him into light blue overalls and white booties with little sailboats on the sides.

He looks so gorgeous that I can’t help myself—I take a bunch of pictures on my phone and send them to Artem.

Then I grab Phoenix’s diaper bag and head downstairs with the little one in tow.

The moment I enter the building’s entryway, I spy my bodyguards. Alik has ash-blonde hair, dark eyes, and the palest skin I’ve ever seen.

Gennadi is dark-haired, with light blue eyes and a grisly beard that hides how pretty his face is underneath.

I wave to them and they both approach me immediately.

They’re dressed in plainclothes just like Artem told me they would be, but nothing but about says “civilian.” They look like military men going home for the summer.

“Madam Kovalyov,” Gennadi greets me.

I raise my eyebrows at him. “Call me that one more time and we’re gonna have problems,” I warn. “My name is Esme.”

“Would you prefer Ms. Esme?” Alik asks respectfully.

“No, I wouldn’t,” I reply, before steering towards the exit. “Come on, boys.”

There’s a dark blue jeep parked in one of the designated resident parking spots outside the building. Alik gets into the driver’s seat, Gennadi takes the passenger seat, and I get into the back with Phoenix to buckle him into his car seat.

“Where to?” Gennadi asks, purposefully avoiding addressing me.

I suppress a smile at his decorum. “Um, how about Citadel Outlets?” I suggest. “They’ll have lots of different stores for you, right, cielito?”

It’s an easy drive there. I alternate between gazing out at the azure California sky and tickling Phoenix just so I can hear his musical laugh.

When we get to the Citadel, I get out the moment the car is parked.

“Which one of you boys are gonna carry Phoenix’s diaper bag for me?” I ask cheerfully, waggling the pink-and-purple duffle between them.

Alik and Gennadi exchange a look, but they both offer their arms out to me. I hand it to Gennadi. Lucky man.

Alik helps me load Phoenix into the stroller. Then, with everybody situated, we walk into the nearest store, a huge Osh Kosh, while the two of them stay constantly roving around me, scanning for threats.

An hour and three bulging shopping bags later, we exit. Thankfully, the car is parked close enough that the boys are able to drop off my bags before moving on down the street.

Phoenix makes a gurgling noise, and I stop to stoop over and check on him.

“Are you hungry?” I murmur. “Should we stop for lunch?”

Standing again, I’m doing a slow pirouette, trying to decide which café to choose, when I see something bizarrely familiar. Or someone, rather.

Our gazes lock.

And I damn near scream.

Oh my God.

It’s Tamara.

37

Esme

It’s definitely my cousin, even though she’s taken pains to change up her look a lot since I last saw her.

Her hair is now a platinum blonde that clashes slightly with her darker complexion. Her makeup is heavier, too, and I realize it’s been daubed on to make her nose appear thinner and her lips appear fuller.

She’s wearing a tiny yellow mini skirt, with black knee highs and a faux fur jacket. She looks like a girl I’d walk across to the other side of the street to avoid.

Which is exactly what I plan on doing.

“Esme!” she exclaims, then claps a hand over her mouth like she shouldn’t be saying my name at all.

We maintain eye contact for maybe three full seconds before I spin around on my heel and try and march away from her.

“No,” she calls after me. “Wait! Esme, please!”

And the pleading tone is what makes me stop short. I turn hesitantly, and Tamara runs towards me, her eyes filled with regret.

“Esme,” she says again. “I thought you were… I thought you were dead.”

I’m burning up with anger, but I choke that down for now. “Almost. But not quite.”

She flinches back as though I’d slapped her. “I’m sorry,” she says in a quiet voice. “Please forgive me.”

I clench my jaw. This is the last thing I expected or wanted today, but now that I’m confronted with Tamara, it’s hard to turn my back on her.

Despite how she betrayed me.

“You—”

“I haven’t had any contact with Budimir since that day in my apartment,” she interrupts, putting her hand over her heart. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”

“You will die if you ever lie to me again,” I snap.

I surprise everyone with those words. Alik, Gennadi, Tamara—and most of all, myself.

Who do I sound like?

The wife of a mafia don.

I don’t have time to worry about that, though, not as both my bodyguards step up behind me. I hold up my hand and they stop reluctantly.

Tamara’s eyes go wide as she realizes that I’ve got muscle at my back.

“So Artem’s alive then?” she says, glancing back to me.

“Why? Are you going run and make a call to his uncle?” I demand.

I see the hurt and defeat pass across her eyes. She shakes her head slowly.

“You have every right to believe I would do