Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 102

“Do we have to go back to that place?” Reagan whines. She’s using those big blue eyes of hers to maximum effect.

“‘Fraid so, Rae-Rae. But we won’t be there for long. Now, come on.”

As we leave the store, I have this weird sense that we’re being watched. Mr. Tuna Breath again, maybe? But when I glance back over my shoulder, I don’t see him or anyone else that seems remotely interested in us.

It’s just the paranoia talking, Emma. Be cool. We’re almost outta here.

Once we’ve got all our goodies stuffed in the trunk of the car, I have to strap the girls into their car seats. “Josh, stay close, okay?”

I hate that I have to turn my back on him to help the girls with their seatbelts. “I’m almost done, Josh. Then you can get—”

The screech of tires sends my panic meter blasting off the charts. No one should be driving that fast in a Walmart parking lot. I back out of the car, ass first. “Josh!”

My feet hit the concrete and I whirl around to grab him, except—

He’s not there.

He’s standing a few feet away from me, transfixed by the black sedan with dirty windows screeching down the lot towards us.

The sedan screams to a halt right in front of him. Josh’s face is on the cusp of a smile. A smile? Why on Earth would he be smil—

Oh, God—he thinks it’s Ruslan.

He’s not stupid or reckless. So there’s no other explanation for why he would move towards the reckless vehicle with that distant, hopeful look on his face.

The side door flings open and a man appears. A man with a black mask obscuring his features. I see it all in slow motion as Josh realizes something is wrong. He throws himself backward, but it’s too late.

The man grabs him by the shoulders.

Hauls him into the darkened interior of the car.

And the door slams shut.

I beg my legs to move faster but by the time I reach the vehicle, the locks are thrown and the wheels are beginning to squeal. I pound my fists against the dark glass, even as the wheels spin fast and the machine lurches away.

“No! Josh! JOSH!”

A tiny fishtail of the rear bumper knocks me sideways and sends me tumbling onto my ass. I hit hard, hard enough for the glass cuts to reopen in a hundred little lines of pain, but I don’t have time to sit and cower. I’m on my feet again immediately, leaping into the driver’s seat of my car and tearing out of the parking spot as fast as I can.

The girls are squealing in terror, but I can’t tend to them right now. I have to get Josh back.

I swerve out of the parking lot and the girls scream again in unison. “It’s okay, girls. It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.”

The truth is I’m just spitting words at them. But even tried and tested words of comfort don’t cut it when you’re speeding through the streets, horns blaring, tires smoking, every bump in the road sending us careening left and right and left again.

“Auntie Em! Slow down!” Caroline screams.

“You forgot Josh!” Reagan cries. “You forgot Josh!”

I have eyes on the sedan. Of course it doesn’t have a license plate. Fucking bastards. This has to be Mr. Tuna Breath’s doing. That run-in was too fucking weird to be coincidental.

“Auntie Em! What are you doing?” Caroline screams when I swerve to avoid oncoming traffic.

What am I doing? Who the fuck do I think I am—Jason Bourne?

I need help.

I don’t have time to let that sink in. The sedan is moving fast and if I blink, I could lose them. My first instinct is to call 911 but my hand is shaking when I pick up my phone. Another pothole makes my thumb pull up the speed dial menu instead of the keypad.

“Fuck!”

I drop my phone as the car in front of me slows down and I have to wiggle around him fast. Thankfully, it’s ringing and, since my phone is connected to Bluetooth, I’m able to transfer the call to speakerphone from the steering wheel.

The only problem is I didn’t dial 911.

I accidentally dialed Ruslan Oryolov.

“Emma.”

That deep, confident voice is bringing back all sorts of terrible memories.

Stop—this isn’t about you.

I don’t want him knowing that I’m leaving town.

I don’t want him knowing that I’m pregnant, either.

But I do want my nephew back. And if Ruslan can get Josh back safe—then so be it.

“Someone just took Josh!” I gasp. “I’m not sure who it was. He was masked. They’re driving a black sedan with no license plate number. I… I… oh, God—” A sob bursts out of my lips at the same time that Reagan and Caroline start crying. “I-I lost them. I lost the car. I don’t know which way they went.”

His voice comes through loud and clear. Chillingly calm and extremely confident. “Send me your location right now.”

I breathe out, more of a sob than an exhale.

“Listen to me, kiska: we’re going to get him back.”

2

RUSLAN

“I want two teams on this!” I roar. “Three, four, ten, I don’t give a fuck what it takes—I want as many fucking teams out there as it takes to get Josh back.”

Kirill’s already on his phone, calling in the cavalry. I’m storming towards the elevator doors, trying to keep my anger from getting the better of me.

Two junior execs approach the elevator just as the doors are about to close. “OUT!” I yell and they spring back. Kirill slips in behind me and we plummet towards the ground floor.

“Well?” I demand when he hangs up.

“I’ve got three teams heading in Emma’s direction now. They’re going in from different routes so they’ll be able to box the kidnappers in. We’ll find him, sobrat; I swear it.”

I know he’s being confident for my sake, but this is still New York City. We’re looking for a needle in a haystack.

I’ll take those fucking odds.

“Why?” I growl as we rush to my SUV. “Why the fuck would anyone take the boy?”

Kirill takes the passenger seat as I get behind the wheel. “Well, he is the one kid you’ve spent a lot of quality time with lately.”

My second-in-command is right. All those boxing lessons at the gym… I was a fool to think those moments would go unnoticed. Nothing I did is ever innocent where my enemies are concerned.

“FUCK!” I spit, furious with my own short-sightedness. “If anything happens to—”

“Nothing will happen to him,” Kirill insists. “We’re going to get him back long before anything happens.”

“Keep your eye on Emma’s location. The kidnappers can’t be too far from her. And get Emma back on the phone.”

He nods and does as I say. The ringtone grates on my eardrums, but her voice when she answers is like honey. “K-Kirill?”

“Ruslan’s here, too,” my second explains. “You’re on speakerphone. Where are you exactly?”

She names the cross streets in a shaky tremor. “Pretty sure I caught sight of the black car a second ago but I can’t be sure.”

I can hear soft sniffling in the back. Blyat’. “Are the girls with you?”