Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 170

“I was in the shed… just getting a few things organized. Are you going somewhere?”

“For at least a few days—yes.”

“Does Ruslan know?”

I grit my teeth. “No, and he doesn’t need to. Not that he would care either way.”

Kirill’s eyebrows slope downward. “Em, I don’t know what happened between the two of you after I left but—”

“He told me and the children that we weren’t important to him. Among other things. And he’s right, in theory. I’m not his wife and Josh, Caroline and Reagan aren’t his children.”

Kirill’s eyes go wide. “Bullshit. He didn’t say that.”

“He did. And I have three little witnesses,” I snap, glancing back at the car. All three of their faces are pressed up against the window, watching carefully.

“Goddammit, Ruslan,” Kirill mutters to himself. He shakes his head and looks up at me. “So the two of you didn’t talk? He didn’t tell you what happened?”

“He was more interested in pushing me away. And guess what? It worked. Feel free to congratulate him on a job well done next time you see him.”

“Listen, Emma, shit went down the night we took Adrik in. Ruslan found out some stuff that really fucked with his head.”

I hold up a hand to stop him. “And if he’d just been honest with me, I would have understood, no matter what it was. Hell, even after he said what he said, I would have forgiven him—if he’d only asked for it. The kids would have, too. But it’s been almost two days and all we’ve gotten from him is radio silence. Which means that everything he said, he meant.”

“I know for a fact he didn’t.”

I shrug. “Then why hasn’t he said so, hm? Why hasn’t he tried to make it right? Why has he disappeared on me and the kids when we need him the most?”

Kirill’s mouth opens but nothing comes out. I nod grimly, feeling the weight of the last day settle over me. “I’m done making excuses for him, Kirill. Especially to the kids. They don’t deserve this. They already had one nightmare of a dad; they don’t need another one. I’ll be damned if I let Ruslan hurt them like Ben did.”

Kirill grabs my arm when I try to turn away. “Ruslan’s not Ben, Emma. You know that.”

“I used to. Then he proved me wrong.”

“He’s going through something…”

“I’m gonna stop you right there. We’re all going through something, Kirill. All of us. But the answer is not to shut out all the people that care about you. That’s a pretty good way to lose them.”

“Just let me get him—”

“Don’t,” I say fiercely. “He’s made it very clear: we’re not important to him. Let’s just leave it at that. Those kids have been through enough.”

His face falls but he doesn’t stop me from getting into the car. He just stands there miserably while we drive away. The kids watch as the house gets smaller and smaller before it finally disappears in the distance.

I hate that they have to say goodbye to another home.

“It’s gonna be okay, guys,” I tell them. “I promise.”

But I have no right to promise them anything.

I’m just as lost as they are.

49

RUSLAN

Forty-eight hours have passed. The alcohol and the hangover have both had their way with me. But the guilt…

That shit lingers.

I’ve never had to explain myself before. I’ve never had to apologize. But she deserves that much at the very least. They all do.

Except when I walk into our bedroom to do it, the air feels strange. The room looks different, too. It takes me a long, stupefied moment to realize that Emma’s slippers are no longer by the foot of the bed. Her favorite bathrobe is gone. All her books. All her clothes.

Dread rips through me as I turn towards the mantelpiece in search of the music box.

It’s gone.

I rush into the kids’ room and it’s the same story there. I can still see the indents of Reagan’s feet on the carpet. They’re gone—that much is undeniable. But who took them? Where? When? It’s not like she has a place to—

I twist around when Kirill walks in. One look at his face and I know something’s up.

“Tell me what you know,” I order. “Where the fuck are they?”

“They went back to the penthouse,” he admits. “They left about an hour ago.”

“Why the hell didn’t you stop them? Or call me?”

He fixes me with a glare that I’m not used to having aimed at me. “Is it true what you said to them?”

That guilt leaps up in my throat to strangle me from within. “I was drunk, Kirill. And stupid. And an asshole.” I sigh deeply. “I didn’t realize the kids were listening.”

“Why would you even say shit like that to any of them?” he demands.

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

He shakes his head sadly. “You love Emma and you love those kids. So why are you sabotaging your own happy ending?”

I don’t know how to answer that, so I just don’t even bother trying.

Kirill looks both crushed for me and disgusted with me at the same time. “You should have begged for her forgiveness a lot sooner than this.”

“I know that,” I rasp, chin falling to my chest.

“So why didn’t you?”

My hand is balled into a fist. Even though my anger is aimed at Kirill, I know that he’s not the one I want to punch. I’d need a mirror for that.

“Because… I know the damage I’ve done. And I didn’t want to face it.”

“Burying your head in the sand isn’t going to do shit, brother. It’s only gonna make everything worse.”

I nod and head for the door.

“Where are you going?” he calls after me.

“Where do you think? I’m gonna go get my family back.” I stop abruptly at the threshold and turn to Kirill. “Oh—and as for Adrik, you can release him.”

Kirill’s eyes pop open with shock. “Say that again?”

“I’m not gonna kill him. But I’m not gonna protect him anymore, either. He can fuck off wherever he wants—sooner or later, the Rabid Wolves will find him. Word is, they’ve already started looking.”

The guard behind the security desk gives me a tight frown. “The security code was changed forty minutes ago, sir. But I can call up to the penthouse and request access for you.”

I nod. “Do it.”

Request forgiveness while you’re at it.