Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 139

But there’s no wrath to be found here. None for Sergey, at least. I’m a cold-hearted bastard—but I reward loyalty.

“If that’s what you want, my friend, then I will arrange it. The old Sergey will die in this place. All the official records will confirm it. But you can choose the shape of your new life. Pick your name, your home—choose what you want to be and I’ll make it all yours.”

His breath hitches up in his chest and his bottom lip trembles. It’s the most emotion he can possibly show, given the damage to his body.

“I take care of the people who have been loyal to me, Sergey.” I get to my feet. “Kirill will have your new documents ready in a few days. Until then, rest. Your body will heal.”

His mind, on the other hand… That might take much longer to heal, if it heals at all. The most I can do is help him transition into a civilian life so that he can try and forget his previous one.

The moment I leave the hospital room, I pull my phone out and call Kirill. Seeing Sergey like that has put things into sharp perspective. There’s something I need to take care of and the sooner it’s done, the better.

“I need you to draw up new papers for Sergey. New ID, new passport, the works. He wants out.”

There’s a beat of silence. “And you’re okay with that? We’ll lose his expertise.”

“Then I’ll find another expert. Sergey has done his time. He deserves the chance at a different kind of life.” I clear my throat. “But before you get on that, I need you to call an emergency meeting for tonight. The Oryolov inner circle.”

“Fuck me. Really?”

I look out at the city skyline in the distance. Somewhere out there is Emma. Adrik. The kids. All the different pieces of this game, scurrying around beneath the cover of the shadows. One way or another, this will come to an end soon.

I intend to make it the finish I desire.

“Yes. There’s something I need to take care of.”

30

RUSLAN

The Oryolov inner circle.

It’s no joke, I’ll tell you that much.

The last time an all-hands meeting was called, it was to establish succession and determine who would succeed Fyodor as pahkan. This is the first time I’ve ever called such a council myself. All six men sitting around the dining table of my Manhattan penthouse know it’s important. Most of them also know to hide their curiosity a little better than my uncle does. Vadim’s never met a moment of suspense that he’s liked yet.

“Don’t keep us waiting any longer, nephew,” he calls out. “Why are we all here?”

I keep my back on the table while I finish the shot of whiskey I just poured myself. Then I walk to the head of the table. “Thank you for being here tonight on such short notice.”

Vadim’s eyes stay fixed on me with eagle-eyed precision. He’s barely blinking. “No one here would ever dream of turning down an invitation from their pahkan,” he murmurs.

I nod. “I’m sure you’ve all heard the rumors.”

“Which ones?” he asks with a chuckle. “There have been so many.”

“The ones relating to my assistant.”

Fyodor’s head snaps from the view out the window to me. The only change in his expression is a slight arch in his eyebrow, but I know my father well enough to interpret that as keen interest. The rest of my senior vors lean in. Vadim is the only one who sinks back in his chair, a smug smile spreading across his face.

“The contract is real,” he proclaims. He slams a fist on the table. “I fucking knew it!”

I narrow my eyes. “This so-called ‘contract’ is merely a rumor,” I say dismissively. “I’m here to talk about Emma Carson and her children.”

“What about them?” Vadim asks impatiently.

“They are in my home now and under my protection. They will be from now onwards.”

I’m aware that my revelation is not very clear. I haven’t explained what Emma is to me or why she happens to be in my home and under my protection. That will come later. First, I have to figure out a way to explain it to myself.

“Is she your woman or not, nephew?” Vadim asks bluntly.

The beast inside me roars to life. Mine. If there was ever a question, that answers it right away. I’m not about to deny it now.

“Yes,” I growl, “she is. And as such, those three children are mine as well.”

The vors look shocked. Mikael has paled, Arkady’s nonexistent eyebrows are raised to the roof, and Nikolai’s gaze keeps darting from face to face. Even Vadim looks taken aback.

Fyodor is the only one who’s smiling. He raises his glass of gin. “Well, then congratulations are in order.”

That seems to snap everyone else out of their stupor. They raise their glasses, too, albeit hesitantly. I understand the shock, though—I’ve always been very vocal about remaining unattached. This change must seem abrupt from their perspective.

From mine, though, it only seems inevitable.

Vadim’s dark eyes twinkle with mischief when they land on me. “Can we expect a wedding anytime soon, Ruslan?”

I nearly choke on my whiskey, even as images of Emma in a white gown, walking down the aisle toward me, invade my head and refuse to be dismissed. “That’s premature. The only reason I bring it up is because it is relevant for our defenses against Adrik Makarov.”

My father nods. “You have my full support, syn. As do your woman and the children.”

It’s been years since I heard my father sound so strong. I’m not even sure if “strong” is the right word. Just more certain than he has been since we lost the rest of our family.

Whatever you’d call it, it seems to act as a signal to the rest of my men.

“Of course, your family can count on my protection, too,” Mikael chimes in.

Arkady raises his glass a little higher. “And mine.”

“And mine,” Nikolai adds.

I give them all an appreciative nod. “I appreciate you all. Spasibo.”

Kirill stands up and meets my gaze over the heads of the sitting men. “Guess it’s time to celebrate then. Let’s bust out the cigars.”

Once there’s a comfortable smoke haze floating over us, Fyodor turns to me. “You have made me proud today.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Claiming a woman has made you proud?”

He shakes his head. “Taking on the responsibility of a family is what has made me proud. You are never so focused as when you have something to protect. Trust me, son: there is no greater reward, no greater blessing than creating a family.”