Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 135

Kirill nods. “She’s going through a lot right now. Her parents are suing for custody of the children. She’s got no one to talk to but me and those kids. She’s completely isolated and it doesn’t matter how big your estate is—to her, it’s getting claustrophobic.” He takes a breath and his clenched jaw softens marginally. “I know you’ve got a lot going on, brother. But so does she. You want this baby to be born safe and healthy? Then you’ve got to be a little gentler with the mother.”

Blyat’.

I stare back at Kirill. I can see all my mistakes, all my stupidity reflected back in at me through his eyes. I tear myself away and head for the door.

I’m done talking.

I need to go back home.

I need to see her.

27

RUSLAN

The kids are all over me the moment I get back home.

It’s not the usual excitement I’m met with, though. There’s a fearful kind of desperation in the way they flock around me. I take a few minutes to sit with them before I go upstairs to check on Emma. I balance a little girl on each knee and look Josh head-on when he sits down opposite us.

“Is Aunt Emma going to be alright? Kirill said we weren’t allowed to d-disturb her,” Josh tells me quietly. His voice is shaky, his lip quivering, that stutter peeking out to show just how badly he needs to be reassured.

Caroline nods. “Yeah, even after we promised not to fight anymore.”

Reagan’s bottom lip is going a mile a minute. I run a hand down her beautiful curtain of hair. “Listen to me: your aunt is strong. She’s going to be fine. It’s just that growing a baby isn’t easy. So we’re all going to have to be really mindful of that from now on, okay?”

“We won’t fight anymore!” Reagan promises. “And if we do, we’ll fight far away from Auntie Em.”

I suppress my smile. “Good girl. Now, how about you guys play in the garden while I go upstairs and check on your aunt?”

“We’re gonna have a picnic with Amelia.”

I turn to Caroline. “Amelia?”

“Ahem.” I glance up and see a young woman standing in the threshold of the living room’s open arches dressed in oversize, paint-stained overalls that make her look like a giant toddler. “Hi,” she says awkwardly. “Mr. Kirill hired me to take care of the kids for a few hours every day.”

I put the girls down and walk over. “Kirill hired you?”

She gulps under my gaze. “H-he made me sign an NDA. I believe the words ‘silence on pain of death’ were also used.”

“Good,” I growl. “Then he covered my bases.”

She has the audacity to look insulted, which incidentally makes me respect her more. “You don’t have to worry about me. I can keep a secret. And I love those kids. I love Emma, too. She’s been really good to me over the years.”

I have no trouble believing that. I’m learning that I also don’t mind a little fire in the people taking care of my family, even if it’s not the kind of thing I’d normally tolerate from a subordinate. “Alright then. I won’t keep you from your picnic.”

She looks me in the eyes for a moment longer before nodding, satisfied. Then she takes the girls’ hands and they all step out onto the patio.

I leave them and make my way upstairs. When I try Emma’s door, I find it locked. Breathe, motherfucker, I coach myself. She needs your patience now. As hard-to-find as that may be. I take in a long inhale, release a long exhale, and then I knock.

“Who is it?”

“Ruslan.”

A beat of silence. And then: “No thank you.”

“Emma. I just want to see how you’re doing.”

“Tell Kirill he’s an ass. And we’re not friends anymore.”

It’s good to know that he’s still got my back even in the face of his newfound affection for Emma. I need to tone down my inner asshole around him. The man doesn’t deserve it.

“Open the door.”

“No. I’m fine. Just leave me alone.”

Fuck the expensive Himalayan timber—I could just break this goddamn door down. The only reason I don’t is because I don’t want to add to her already elevated stress levels.

Instead of wasting time trying to reason with her, I head to the electrical power room on the first floor. There’s a small safe in there to which only Kirill and I have the combination. Among other things, it contains a spare key for every room on the property.

Her face drops when I open the door and walk in, but I can tell from the way she falls back onto her pillow that she’s not in a fighting mood today. She looks so small and frail in that big California king bed. Her cheeks are pale, too. I’ve never wanted to protect her more.

I’m just having a hell of a time figuring out how to keep her safe from myself.

“I’m not in the mood to fight, Ruslan,” she mumbles.

“That makes two of us.” I drag a chair over to her bedside and sit down. She flinches away from me as though touching would be dangerous. “How are you feeling?”

She stares at me incredulously. “How do you think I’m feeling?”

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Her jaw drops. “With you?”

I can’t even justify rolling my eyes, as much as I’d like to. Considering the way I’ve treated her lately, it’s a fair question. “Yes, with me.”

“Why would I want to talk about it with you?” she laughs. “Why would I want to talk to you about anything?”

Again—fair.

“Because I’m asking.”

The vein in her forehead has just made an appearance but it’s not throbbing or anything. It’s just peeping out shyly to say hello.

“Okay. Then why do you care?”

Because I care about you.

But again, I don’t say what I should say. “Because you’re carrying my child.”

Her eyelashes flutter and she looks down. Her lips quiver for only a moment before she looks back up again. “Of course. I should have known.”

“You’ve been under a lot of stress lately,” I offer.

She snorts. “That’s the understatement of the damn year.”

“Is it—” Me? “—the custody issue?” She’s still not meeting my eyes so I take Kirill’s advice and go gentle. “You can tell me, kiska.”

Little by little, I’m prying her open. Not with force or violence, the tools I used to use. But with kindness. Tenderness.

Fuck it—with love.

And I can see it working. Her face softens. Her eyes brighten. She opens her mouth and it all comes out.

“It’s everything,” she breathes. Her voice catches at first, but the more she keeps talking, the steadier she becomes. “It’s this house; it’s my future; it’s you and me. But mostly, it’s those kids. What if I don’t get to keep them? What if Beatrice and Barrett win custody and I lose them?” Her tears are flowing freely now. “I promised Sienna I would keep them safe and happy. I stood in front of her headstone the evening we buried her and I promised her that I would never let them be subjected to the kind of childhood we were subjected to. It was right after then that Mom and Dad approached me for the first time with their offer to take the kids off my hands. That’s how they phrased it, too. ‘We’ll take them off your hands.’ Like it was a freaking burden, like I’d be happy for the chance to get rid of them. They didn’t understand even then. It wasn’t a burden to look after those kids; it was a privilege.”