Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 137

The first thing I do is call Alicia Young. She’s polite and professional and she agrees to make a house call after breakfast to speak to Josh.

After I get dressed and go downstairs, I prepare Josh for the appointment. He’s quiet and thoughtful but he doesn’t seem reluctant to talk to her. I get in a few quick words of advice before he tells me, “I get it, Aunt Emma. It’ll be okay. I’ll talk to her.”

The girls are in the pool when Alicia arrives. She’s younger than I expect, probably in her mid-thirties with a stylish bob and thick, purple-rimmed glasses that go a long way in winning me over.

Josh hangs back on the patio while I approach Alicia. “I’m Emma.”

She smiles pleasantly. “Mr. Oryolov explained the situation to me on the phone. I’m just gonna spend fifty minutes with Josh, get to know him a little bit.” She pats me on the elbow. “You have nothing to worry about.”

I give her a shaky smile in return. “I wish it were that simple.”

“I understand that you feel the onus of responsibility—but trust me, Emma: the hardest thing you can do as a parent is ask for help. No person is an island.”

That actually does make me feel a little better. It also makes me hopeful that Dr. Alicia can help Josh. She walks over and introduces herself to him and I eavesdrop as she spends a few minutes asking him easy questions.

How old are you? What do you like to read? You play basketball? What team do you like?

After a while, Josh’s shoulders have relaxed considerably and he’s actually talking animatedly about the basketball team he played on last season.

She’s good. I shouldn’t be surprised. Ruslan would have made sure to enlist only the very best. I wonder bitterly how long her vetting process took.

When she signals to me that they’re ready, I direct Dr. Alicia and Josh to the room on the ground floor that’s been dedicated as his therapy room. Then I spend the next fifty minutes sitting by the pool, picking at my nails and trying to let the girls distract me.

Please let it go well. Please let it go well. Please let it—

“Aunt Emma, Joshie’s waving for you,” Caroline informs me.

I jerk out of the pool chair and rush inside where Josh and Alicia are waiting for me. I study Josh’s face for any signs of a mental breakdown. But all I see is an easy smile.

“Can I go swim now, Auntie Em?” he asks eagerly.

“Of course, honey. Have fun.”

He high-fives Dr. Alicia goodbye and runs outside to join his sisters. “How’d it go?” I ask the moment he’s out of earshot.

“He’s a wonderful kid, Emma. You’ve done a great job.”

I cringe nervously. “You don’t have to cushion it for me. Just tell me straight: how badly have I screwed him up?”

She raises her eyebrows. Then she puts her hand on my shoulder and looks me in the eye. “He’s a strong and resilient boy. He does struggle with anger and resentment, but that’s aimed squarely on his parents, mostly at his father. None of it is for you or Mr. Oryolov. In fact, as far as I can see based on that first session, the two of you are his heroes.”

Those words are a balm for my soul. It’s enough to make me want to throw my arms around the doctor and kiss her. If it weren’t totally inappropriate, I’d freaking do it.

“Really? You’re not just screwing with me?”

She nods. “He may be only eight, but he’s one of the most observant, most aware kids I’ve ever met. He knows exactly how much you’ve sacrificed to take care of him and his sisters. He’s also extremely grateful to Ruslan for taking all of you in and giving you a home. It seems that, for the first time in a while, he feels safe.”

He’s not the only one who’s thankful to Ruslan for that.

“I do think I should start seeing him at least once a week,” she adds. “It’s important that he’s able to talk to an objective person about everything that’s going on. He doesn’t want to burden either you or Ruslan with anything.”

“But we want him to!”

“I understand. But for right now, I think you need to give him time and space, so that he can come to you eventually. Oh, and Emma?”

“Yes?”

“You haven’t screwed him up. Believe me: you saved that child. And you should be proud of it.”

It doesn’t get much better than a professional telling you you’re not a shitty mother. “You better get out of here now before I do something crazy and kiss you,” I warn her.

She laughs. “See you next week, Emma. I’m already looking forward to it.”

After she’s gone, I walk back to the pool and lean against the French doors. Josh is splashing his sisters, laughing louder than I’ve heard him laugh in a while.

I find myself wishing that Ruslan were here to hear this. I wish he were here so that I could tell him that Josh is gonna be okay.

And he’s a big reason why.

29

RUSLAN

I need to put some distance between myself and all this accountability I’ve been avoiding since Emma landed in my home. Kirill’s call gave me the excuse I needed to get the fuck out from underneath her pleading blue eyes. Those eyes are the heart of the damn problem, because they make a man want to do crazy things.

Like… forgive.

Like forget.

Like apologize.

My phone pings with coordinates for a location, sent by Kirill. It’s smack dab in the middle of nowhere. I get into one of my more understated vehicles, a black Range Rover, and load the location details into my GPS. Then I call Kirill from the car.

“Well?”

“We’ve got the place surrounded. It’s a fuckin’ dump.”

“Who zeroed in on the location?”

“Credit goes to Vadim here. Your unc really pulled through for us.”

Nice to know my uncle is more than just an outdated figurehead with a breeding fetish.

“Is he there, too?”

“Yup. He and his team are on the other side of the house. We’re trying to determine if it’s booby-trapped.”

I snort. “You really think Adrik has the resources for that if he picked a shithole to keep one of the most valuable assets he’s stolen from me?”

“There are cameras everywhere,” Kirill muses dubiously. “We’ve pinpointed at least seven around the perimeters of the property and the tech squad is still working on identifying any we might be missing. Speaking of, do you want me to take them down before we move in?”

“No,” I growl. “I want that fucker to see me take back what’s mine. Then I want him to watch as I burn down everything else.”

“Aye-aye, captain. ETA?”

“Seven minutes.”

“See you soon.”