Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 172

EMMA

Seven days.

That’s how long it’s been since I’ve seen or spoken to Ruslan.

And, God help me… I miss him.

The kids do, too. They’ve been moping around the penthouse for the last week. Not even the gifts that come daily seem to cheer them up. They’re all smart enough to know when they’re being bribed.

Every time we get another delivery, I want to scream. As thoughtful as his gifts are, they’re also insulting. Does he really think he can buy our forgiveness? He should have showed up every single freaking day until we relented and let him up here.

I know that’s not what I asked him for. I asked him for space and that’s what he’s giving me. But isn’t he smart enough to know the difference between what I say and what I want?

Honestly.

Men.

“Caroline, how’s the reading going?”

“Fine,” she mumbles unenthusiastically.

Their new school encourages the kids to do half an hour of reading every day. Since they don’t have a big lawn to run around in anymore, I’ve designated the evenings for reading time. We all pick a different book, gather in the living room with a bunch of snacks, and read together.

It started off as a flimsy attempt to give the kids a distraction as well as a sense of togetherness. But it’s worked out surprisingly well. Although I’m pretty sure Josh spends more time in his own head than in his book.

“J? What about you?”

He puts his book down and shrugs. Then he looks out the window as though he’d rather be anywhere else.

Sighing, I give up on my own book, too. He’s had three therapy sessions this week and it’s only Thursday. I’m actually thinking of calling Alicia in for another session on Saturday if his mood doesn’t pick up soon.

I have half a mind to hide the gifts that Ruslan sends over. Maybe they’re the cause of Josh’s perpetually bad mood.

The one thing none of us can resist is the fresh food that Ruslan has delivered to the apartment every evening. Now that I’m officially out of my first trimester and my morning sickness has passed, my appetite is annoyingly healthy. It’s almost six, which means there should be a delivery coming at any moment.

“You hungry?” I ask Josh hopefully.

“No.”

I glance at the girls. “What about you two?”

“No,” says Reagan, with a sly glance at Josh as if we won’t notice that she’s just saying what he’s saying. Then she adds, “… but I hope we get pasta tonight.”

How easily kids fall into new routines. It would have been amusing if the whole situation weren’t so freaking sad.

“Josh, honey, we need to talk.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t want to talk.”

“Tough. It’s happening.”

He does a double-take in my direction at the sudden tone shift. I’ve been really gentle with all of them this past week. It’s not working. Time for a new plan.

I set my book down on my lap and lean forward. “I know this is hard, kiddos, and I know you’re hurting, but it’s time to get your game face on. We can’t be sad forever.”

The girls rush towards me. Reagan gets on my lap and Caroline snuggles into my side. “Joshie misses Ruslan,” Caroline explains.

“Do not.”

Caroline pulls back. “You don’t miss him?” she asks innocently. “Not even a little?”

Josh glances at me self-consciously and my heart twists into a painful knot. “I miss him, honey, and I don’t think I should be ashamed to admit that. Neither should you.”

Josh crosses his hands over his chest. “He doesn’t care about us, so why should we care about him?”

“He does care about us,” Reagan insists, pointing at all the unboxed gifts in the corner of the living room. “He sent all those to us!”

Josh grunts. “That doesn’t count.”

Reagan looks confused. She’s still young enough to believe that presents are the ultimate gesture of love. I kiss the top of her head and remember a time when Josh was that young and naïve, too.

“Do you think that maybe we should give him a chance to explain?” I suggest.

Reagan nods immediately. “I think so.”

Caroline takes a little longer but in the end she nods as well. “Only if he promises to be nice to everyone,” she tacks on.

I turn my gaze on Josh. “What about you?”

He looks between all three of us, chewing on his bottom lip the entire time. “I… don’t know.”

“You don’t have to decide right now, bud. Take your time. Think about it. This is a family decision.”

“Auntie Em?” Reagan’s looking up at me from my lap. These are the moments when I realize how fast she’s growing. How much longer will she fit there? “I really miss him.”

I have to bite my tongue to keep the tears at bay. “I know you do.”

“He just has to say he’s sorry. If he says he’s sorry, then it’ll all be okay.”

“No, it won’t,” snarls Josh. “Saying you’re sorry doesn’t change anything.”

I put my hand on Josh’s leg and squeeze his ankle gently. “Sweetheart, everyone makes mistakes. Everyone says stuff they don’t mean.”

He flinches. “What if he did mean it?”

I take a breath. I’m not sure why I’m sitting here, trying to defend him. I’m hurting, too, just like them. I’m uncertain, too, just like them.

“We’ll never know unless we give him the chance to take responsibility for his actions.”

Josh sighs. “I’ll think about it.”

That night, while the kids are eating dinner, I check my phone hoping for a message. But there’s nothing. Just his standard gifts and a bunch of food. I let myself get hopeful enough to expect more. I’d expected him to show up here every day demanding to be let up, vowing to win us back come hell or high water. I’d expected him to show up at the school just so that he could see the kids. I’d expected him to call me every night whether or not I answered.

He’ll fight for himself and for his Bratva. Why won’t he fight for us?

Honestly.

Men.

51

EMMA

I glance back over my shoulder at the two beefy bodyguards who have been shadowing me and the kids since the day after we’d moved back into the building.

Ruslan’s orders, no doubt. Part of me wants to be touched by it.

But somehow, it still comes off as impersonal. Detached. Why the hell doesn’t he show up once in a while?

Be careful what you wish for.

I haven’t made a fuss because honestly, it’s not that much of a hindrance. I don’t go out much unless it’s to pick and drop the kids off at school. And honestly, all four guys who’ve been put on locked-and-loaded babysitting duty are nice.

The team splits at the beginning of the day. Two of the guards, Lazar and Shura, stay behind on school property to watch out for the kids. The remaining two, Zakhar and Gedeon, drive back with me.

The last bell rings just as Boris parks the car. I make towards the middle school entrance first, knowing that Josh will find me. I notice Reagan running down the steps a few minutes later but… no Caroline.

And no Lazar, either.

“Hey, honey, how was school?”

Reagan’s never very chatty about school after the day’s done. She just shrugs her shoulders. “Good.”

“Where’s your sister?”

“I dunno. She wasn’t at lunch.”

My heart starts to pound harder in my chest and a drop of cold sweat trickles down my spine.