Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 171

He dials in the connection number and hands me the phone. Then he has the good sense to fuck off while I put the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

It’s Caroline. My heart is beating fast. Is this what real nerves feel like? Because it’s goddamn awful. “Hey Caro, it’s me. Ruslan.”

For a moment, I think she hung up on me. But then I hear the sound of her breathing.

“Caroline, malyshka, can you let me in?”

There’s a beat of silence. Then: “No.”

“Caroline—

“You were mean,” she says emphatically. “If you didn’t want to be our dad, then you should have just said.”

I’m torn between laughing and falling to fucking pieces. Raked over the coals by a child—I deserve nothing less.

“You’re right. But we can’t talk about this through the phone. Can you please put your aunt on? I need to talk to you guys in person, face to—”

I hear the phone change hands, but the voice on the other side is not Emma’s.

“I’m mad at you.” It’s Reagan now. Even the little one is pissed off and as much as it hurts me that I’ve hurt her, I’m also proud that she’s speaking up about it.

“You have every right to be.”

Her little voice quivers. “You made us all cry.”

I must have a heart after all, I think to myself. Because I’m pretty sure it’s breaking right now.

“Rae, please let me explain. I never meant to hurt any of you—”

“Then why did you?”

Except I’m not speaking to Reagan anymore. The phone has changed hands once again while I was speaking. Now, the voice is slightly lower, slightly deeper, but still just as pained.

“Josh.”

It took so long to earn his trust. We spent months forging a bond that I managed to screw up in a matter of seconds.

“You lied to me.” His voice feels suddenly so much more mature. It feels like I’m talking to a teenager. A man in the making. “You lied to all of us. You told me you would never be like my dad. You promised me.”

Crack, crack, crack, go the last pieces of my heart.

“Can you please let me up there so we can talk about this?”

“No.”

“Josh—”

There’s noise on the other side and I have a feeling the phone’s changing hands again. It’s like a revolving door of consequences.

“Ruslan.”

I exhale. “Emma, can we talk?”

“You really hurt them, Ruslan.”

“I know. I know I hurt you, too. Just let me up there so that I can explain what happened.”

“Why didn’t you just explain back then?” she whispers. “I was right there, asking—begging—to carry half the burden.”

“I know. I’m just… I’m not used to that.”

“So you pushed me away. Again.”

I wince. “I… yes. That’s what I did.”

“I’m too old for this, Ruslan. Come to think of it, so are you. I think I’ve proved that I’m in this for the long haul. I just don’t think you are. And that’s a problem because it’s not just me. It’s about my kids, too.”

“I was in a bad headspace yesterday—”

“How?” she demands. “We got Adrik. That’s what you wanted, right? We got Adrik and you didn’t have to kill him. The plan worked.”

“It worked. You did so good. But things happened after you left. I was—I am—trying to keep you safe from it all.”

“Maybe you should look into a way to keep me safe from you. Because that’s the wound that hurts the most right now.”

I glance up to find the security guard staring at me with open curiosity. He glances away the moment we make eye contact.

“Please, Emma.” I sigh. “Just let me up.”

Her breath whistles out, low and mournful. “I know that you probably think you have a good reason for what you said, what you did. But the fact is, no matter what the reason, those kids will never be able to unhear those words. I need to think of them now. I need to think of our future.”

“Emma—”

She ignores me. “You and me, we’ve been in this sort of blissful in-between lately. You told me you wanted to be with me and I was happy to go along with whatever that meant because it felt so good to be with you. But the truth is, you don’t think of me as your partner. You think of me as an ornament. An accessory. An incubator. And like you reminded me yesterday, none of those things translate to wife.”

I squeeze the phone and lean in like it’ll help her hear me better. “I was so drunk, Emma. You can’t take what I said seriously.”

“Adrik said pretty much the same thing, Ruslan. And I chose not to believe him. But then, when you said what you said—”

“You don’t have to be married to me to be important to me, Emma.”

“Then why do I need to be married to you in order to ask questions or demand explanations? I can’t have expectations of you without a ring on my finger? I can’t rely on you?”

She sighs and I can hear the fatigue in her voice. She’s pregnant; she’s supposed to be keeping her blood pressure low. And here I am, messing it up for her already.

Ruining my baby’s life before the child is even born.

“How am I supposed to believe all the things you’ve said to me and the kids before now? I can’t, Ruslan. And I can’t afford to expose the kids to another father figure who doesn’t really want to be their father.”

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

Say something, you dumb, mute bastard. Fix it. Fucking FIX IT.

“So for now, I’m gonna stay here with the kids. I need some space. And they need to heal. Please listen to that. Please respect it.”

How can I respect it when it goes against my very nature? She’s pulling away from me, threatening to take the kids with her, and she expects me to give her fucking time? Fucking space?

The caveman in me is beating his fists against his chest with rage. This is not happening.

But then I replay Reagan’s sad little voice in my head. I hear Caroline and Josh’s devastated words. This is not about me.

This is about them.

The more I push, the more resistance I’ll get in return. Some battles are fought in silence. Fyodor used to say that often to Leonid and me.

“Okay,” I agree at last. “I’ll respect it.”

“Thank you.”

The line goes dead. It feels like I’m swimming against the tide. The harder I swim, the stronger the currents become. It’s my own damn fault. I’m the one who’s stoked those currents. I’m the one who took a lighter to my own life.

But I’m determined to make it right. I have no clue how. But I know one thing—I’m coming back for Emma and the kids.

I’m coming back for what’s mine and nothing will stop me.

Not even them.