Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 114

Kirill still doesn’t say a word and that pisses me off. So I just keep talking. “Whatever you might believe, I do care about Ruslan. I would never have put that information out there. I wouldn’t even dare to—”

“I believe you.”

I stop short. “W-what?”

He leans back and picks some imaginary lint off his pants. “As explanations go, yours makes sense.”

I stare at him for a moment and then sigh. “Yeah, try telling your stubborn ass boss that.”

Kirill chuckles. “Telling him anything now is pointless. He’s too inside his own head. Without proof—”

“Why does he even need proof?” I cry out. “Why can’t he just take my freaking word for it?”

“Because that requires trust, Emma. He let you in. He let you in far past his own personal boundaries of comfort and now, he’s trying to overcompensate for that by kicking you all the way the fuck out.”

“Sounds like I’m not the only one who needs a therapist.”

Kirill shrugs. “That might be true of all of us.”

I eye him warily, wondering just how much I can trust him. It’s not as though I have much of a choice, though. Trustworthy allies aren’t exactly forming a line at my door.

“Kirill, you heard most of that conversation, right?” He nods, so I add, “Well, then you understand why I have to leave—”

“Leaving is not an option. I understand things are heating up with Ben, but Ruslan and I can handle that.”

I frown. “You can ‘handle’ that? Kirill, Ben’s being interviewed by CNN. Morning shows and shit. The man’s crying wolf about his missing children all over the news.”

“Like I said, I’ll handle it. You don’t have to worry about Ben.” He stands, straightens his cuffs, and walks over to me with a palm outstretched. “But for right now, it’s important that you’re not contactable.”

I stare at the open palm he’s offering me. “Are you asking for my hand? Because we really don’t know each other that well.”

He cracks a momentary smile. “Your phone, Emma.”

I back away from him in horror. “No.”

“Do you really wanna deal with Ben right now? Or your parents? Or more reporters?”

“Fuck me,” I mutter. “You really know how to make a compelling case, don’t you?” Reluctantly, I deposit my phone in his hand.

“I’ll get you a new phone and a new number. Also, I wanted to let you know that I’ll be monitoring the security cameras inside the penthouse.”

I look around. “There are security cameras inside here? That feels a bit invasive.”

“They’re not in any of the bedrooms or bathrooms. Just the common living spaces. Don’t worry, Ruslan’s in no danger of hearing that conversation you just had with your friend.”

“Funnily enough, that doesn’t make me feel a whole lot better.”

That’s not quite true, though. One thing is making me feel better: that maybe I’m not completely alone. I have the kids. I have Phoebe. Maybe I have Kirill on my side, too.

“Kirill?” I blurt. “Why are you helping me?”

A shadow falls over his face so I can’t quite read his expression. “It seems like you could use a little help,” he says carefully.

Amen to that.

“I know that’s what you want me to believe, but I know Ruslan will always be your first priority.”

He doesn’t deny it. “Perhaps. But that baby in your belly is my second. You’re carrying the future pahkan of the Oryolov Bratva. That means you are my priority, too.”

I frown. I’m not sure how I feel about any of that but I can’t afford to turn my nose up at a possible ally. Even if that alliance only lasts the duration of my pregnancy.

At this point, I’ll take what I can get.

11

EMMA

That evening, I get a thick brown envelope addressed to me from Kirill. It contains my new phone, a slip of paper with several numbers on it, a restraining order against Ben, and the most important thing of all: official court documents granting me temporary physical and legal custody of all three children.

There’s a handwritten note, too. I’ve spoken to a cop that we work with closely. He can make the missing persons reports go away. We’re gonna work on proving that Ben is an unfit guardian. Until then, you’ve got custody of the kids. –Kirill.

I’m reading through the note for the fourth time when the kids tumble into the kitchen clamoring for dinner.

“Auntie Em? You okay?” Josh asks as he slows to a walk.

“Yeah, honey. Just got some good news.”

“What is it? What is it?” Reagan chirps as Josh helps her up onto one of the high chairs around the island.

“Well, for right now, I have guardianship of you guys.”

Rae wrinkles her nose up. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I get to look after you guys.”

She doesn’t look impressed. “But that’s what you do now.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” I give Josh a wink. “But now, it’s officially official.”

“I don’t get it,” Reagan says with a shrug. “Caro, do you get it?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“See, Auntie Em? No one gets it.”

Still giggling, I walk around to the stove where I’ve been shallow frying fish sticks for the kids. I spoon them on a flat plate and set it on the marble countertop.

“Fish sticks!” Reagan celebrates. “Yayyy!”

Caroline nods in enthusiastic agreement. “I love this place.”

I plop down beside Josh. “Listen, guys, I know you like it here—but it’s just temporary, okay? We can’t stay forever.”

“Why not?” Reagan asks. “Ruslan won’t mind.”

Where did all that certainty come from? How did he manage to convince them in such a short time that he is so utterly devoted to them?

“Ruslan lives in New York, honey,” I say gently. “And we need to leave it.”

“But why?”

“Because…” Breathe, Emma. You can do this. “Because I think it’s important that we make a fresh start somewhere new. Just the four of us.”

Caroline and Reagan exchange a confused glance. “But Auntie Em, what about Daddy?” Caroline asks.

I swallow. “Guys, your daddy… He’s going through something right now. He’s not really able to take care of you guys.”

Reagan frowns. “Is that why he’s so mad all the time?”

“That’s part of it, yes.”

Reagan’s little rosebud mouth turns down. “So… we’re not gonna see Daddy again?”

“I think probably not for a very long time, honey,” I admit. The honesty hurts even me to say, but we’ve had enough lies around here. I won’t raise them in the dark. They deserve to know as much as they’re capable of handling. And if I know anything, it’s that Sienna’s kids are strong.

Both girls look contemplative, unsure how to process that information. Ben’s always been around even if he wasn’t present. Even if he wasn’t always nice.

“I’m gonna draw Daddy a card,” Reagan pipes up abruptly. “A get well soon card. How’s that, Auntie Em?”

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “I think that’s a great idea, Rae. What about you, Caro? You wanna make a card for Daddy?”

She shakes her head. “No. He wasn’t always nice to Josh. Or Rae. Or me. I don’t wanna make him a card.”

I pat her hand. “Don’t worry; you don’t have to.”

“I’d rather make a card for the baby!” she adds.

I freeze. “W-what?”

Caroline transforms into a little bobblehead doll for a moment, blond bangs flapping on her forehead. “That’s a great idea right? I’m gonna do it.”

“Um, Caro, sweetheart… what baby are you talking about?”

“Your baby, silly!”

Just when the situation feels like it’s halfway under control, this happens. Aaand I’m back to square one.

Panic.

Fear.

Nerves.

“Yeah, that’s what the nurse in the hospital said,” Caroline babbles. She’s beaming from ear to ear. “Joshie said we shouldn’t say anything until…” She trails off when she realizes her big brother is glaring at her. “Oops!” She slaps her hands over her mouth. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything until you told us. Josh said.”

I glance at Josh. “We heard the nurses talking,” he admits quietly. “I wasn’t sure if it was real or not. Are you having a baby?”

Forget what I just said about raising them with honesty—lying would be so much easier now. Of course, the moment my belly starts to pop, I’ll have some serious explaining to do.

They need to know they can trust you. Especially now.

“I am going to have a baby.”