Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 155

I stiffen instantly. Surely that had to be a coincidence. No one but my inner circle knows that Emma is pregnant.

I watch him closely. There’s no indication that he knows more than he should, but my skin is still crawling as he licks his lips. “Blue really is your color. Matches your eyes perfectly.”

He doesn’t know. He’s just trying to goad me.

Emma clears her throat self-consciously. “I’d concentrate on your own date, Adrik.”

Jessica practically hisses. “You know what they say: men can smell a sure thing from a mile away.”

Emma’s eyes pop with outrage but I’m already out of my seat and bringing her with me. Halfway to the door, I pause and turn back to Adrik. This whole thing doesn’t sit right with me. I have to stop assuming anything’s a coincidence with him anymore. I mean, he just happens to be at the same restaurant that Emma and I choose on our only day out in forever?

Fuck no.

This motherfucker is up to something. And if Emma weren’t here, I might have just stuck around to find out what. But I’m not about to put her at risk. Especially not now.

A jolt on my hand pulls my attention back toward where we came from. I see Adrik’s fingers wrapped around Emma’s forearm, just above the bracelet I clasped on her myself. It’s a sick version of a kids’ game, the three of us with hands linked like this.

Adrik stares into her face and smiles crookedly. “Goodbye, Emma. Pregnancy really does suit you.”

I go fucking cross-eyed.

He knows.

How the fuck does he know?

I don’t wait around to find out. I rip Emma away and rush her out of the door.

“R-Ruslan?” Emma’s voice is shaky. “Are you alright?”

I don’t bother answering. Instead, I call Kirill.

He answers after only a few rings. “Yo. What’s up?”

“You, Fyodor, Vadim. Half an hour. My office.”

“I’ll set it up.”

The line goes dead and Emma’s worry grows more pronounced. Her knee is bouncing now and I can see her vein popping in my peripheral vision. “Ruslan?”

“I should never have taken you out today.”

She bites her bottom lip. “It was a good day—”

“Right up until that fucker showed up with his banshee.”

“I-is this about… the drug that he ripped off?”

If only it were just about that. “He knows too much.”

“My pregnancy,” she whispers in a small voice.

“The moment we step out of the estate, we’re exposed. You’re exposed. And that makes you an easy target.”

“Ruslan, you’re overthinking.” Her voice is comforting, seductively so, but I’m too far gone to be soothed.

I blare on the horn as we approach the gates of my estate. They fling open and I speed through onto the driveway. But even after the gates are closed behind us and the garage door is sealed shut, I can’t bring myself to relax.

Emma’s hand lands on my arm but, gentle as it is, it doesn’t stop me from flinching. “Ruslan—”

“I’ll explain everything to you soon. But right now, I need to collect my thoughts and get ready for this meeting.”

Her face turns somber but she nods all the same. “Okay. You’ll find me afterwards?”

I nod and bend down, catching her lips with mine. Then I pull away and step out of the car. There’s a time for kissing the woman you love and there’s a time for gutting any motherfucker who thinks he can take her away from you.

This is the latter.

I’ve been acting under the belief that Adrik is a mild threat. A pest who can be easily handled, easily neutralized. But I no longer believe that.

I underestimated him. And that’s not a mistake I intend to make again.

Not when I have a family to raise.

Not when I have lives to protect.

41

RUSLAN

Two things never change at these gatherings: Vadim’s eyes darting from side to side and my father sitting placidly in his chair, daydreaming of his gardens instead of giving a damn about the issue at hand.

“You have nothing to say, brother?” my uncle demands, forcing Fyodor to meet his eyes.

“Does he need to say anything?” I interject. “I’m the pahkan.”

“And you wouldn’t have called this meeting unless you wanted our opinions.”

“Wrong. I called this meeting because I expect your support.”

“Meaning what?” Vadim fumes. “Our thoughts are of no consequence to you?”

That’s putting it mildly. But I rein in my tongue and remember that, at the end of the day, I have to lead. And in order to lead, you can’t alienate your closest vors.

Even if one in particular is being a pain in the ass.

I stare my uncle down. “Are you saying that you’re opposed to my decision?”

“Are you saying you’ve already made the decision?” He turns to look at his older brother. “And do you agree with it?”

Fyodor doesn’t spare a glance in Vadim’s direction. Instead, he gazes at me. He looks like a man with no skin in the game. We might as well be discussing the weather, not violent underworld warfare. “The Oryolovs and the Makarovs have been allies for four generations. This bad blood with you and Adrik started as silly, friendly competition.”

“That’s what I’ve believed all these years, too,” I agree. “But something changed along the way. It became more than just friendly sparring. It became fucking personal.”

“Ruslan’s right,” Kirill offers, throwing his voice into the fray. “Adrik crossed a line by abducting Sergey and stealing the Venera formula. If that weren’t enough, he also botched Ruslan’s launch of Venera. A botch that cost civilian lives—”

“There will be a great many more civilian lives lost if you engage Adrik in open war,” Vadim points out.

“You surprise me, Uncle,” I muse. “You’ve never been one to advise caution. I believe you once called it the ‘coward’s first instinct.’”

Vadim’s eyes flare. “That is only where our enemies are concerned.”

“And what is Adrik if not an enemy?” I crack my knuckles and lean forward. “He’s certainly no longer a friend to the Oryolov Bratva. Especially given the threats he has made against Emma.”