Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 49

Emma’s vein practically pops out of her forehead. It’s the most prominent I’ve ever seen it. Who knew there were two other people who pissed her off more than I did?

She glares at her mother. “And I’m not sure who you’re thinking of, but Josh has never liked deviled eggs.”

Barrett's thick silver eyebrows knit together. “You’re in quite the mood today, young lady.”

I clear my throat. That’s about all I’m willing to put up with.

I look between Beatrice and Barrett. “Emma has a lot on her plate and not a whole lot of help.” My voice is cold as I give them the same venomous stare I offer to any idiot who dares strut into my office with an ego. And since this is a business lunch, that makes this space my office. “I’m sure, as the doting grandparents you so clearly are, you completely understand. Now, if you don’t mind, we have more work to do before we need to be back at the office.”

Emma swivels in my direction. She looks just as dumbfounded as her parents. I sit back down and reach for my glass of wine.

“Ahem!” Barrett puts his hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Come, Beatrice. If you’ll excuse us…”

They storm off to the opposite side of the restaurant while Emma just stands there, gawking after them.

“It’s gonna be hard for you to eat standing up,” I tell her.

Her gaze veers slowly to me. “I can’t believe you just… dismissed them. You just dismissed my parents.” She falls back into her seat. I’m trying to figure out if she’s pissed or not when she suddenly smiles in sheer amazement. “No one has ever done that before.”

I shrug, enjoying the awe in her eyes a little too much. “Not my first time.”

She snorts. “Oh, I know. I’ve been on the receiving end of the infamous Oryolov dismissal. I know it well.” She takes a deep breath and leans back, still shaking her head. “Of all the people to run into here…”

Barrett and Beatrice are out of sight now, but Emma hasn’t totally relaxed. The gently throbbing vein on her forehead is proof of that.

“So. You come from money.” I watch her squirm a little in her seat, but there’s no way we’re glossing over that bombshell.

She rolls her eyes. “I haven’t taken a cent from my parents since I graduated high school. And I don’t plan on starting now, either.”

“What about the kids?”

The vein throbs a little harder. “I was thinking of nothing but the kids when I turned down my parents’ offer to help. Beatrice and Barrett come with strings. They always have.”

I want her to tell me more, but she picks up her menu and becomes thoroughly absorbed in it.

And for the rest of lunch, that vein doesn’t go away.

34

EMMA

I almost knock over an old lady in my rush to get to Bane. It doesn’t even matter at this point; I’m already an hour late. I glance at the dinged-up watch on my wrist and cringe.

Scratch that: one hour and seventeen minutes late.

“Sorry!” I yell at the old lady who I’m pretty sure flips me the bird as I run toward the silver skyscraper.

By the time I get through security and into the elevators, I’m sweating through my light blue blouse. Because of course I just had to wear silk today. Another great decision.

I’m on a freaking roll.

And since I am not allowed to catch a break today, the elevator makes eleven slow stops before it finally hits my floor. “Excuse me!” I gasp, shoving my way out of the elevator and racing down the corridor towards my desk.

Maybe he won’t notice?

Ha. Right.

I’m not at my desk three seconds before the doors of Ruslan’s office open. He stands in the threshold, his gaze directed squarely at me.

“Ms. Carson.” He sounds pissed. “My office. Now.”

He leaves the door open and disappears inside. A steady stream of Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck plays in my head as I follow him inside and shut the door.

I start talking before I’m even at his desk. “I am so sorry. I know I’ve said it before, but this will not happen again and—”

He holds up a hand and I fall silent in the face of that very large, very intimidating, very callused, very, very capable palm.

“Was there an emergency of some sort?”

“Um… no. Not exactly.”

“An accident?”

“No.”

“Are you hurt in any way?”

“No.”

This little interrogation is not helping my sweat glands calm down.

“What about the kids?”

“Safe and in school.”

He nods. “Then I’d like your explanation as to why you’re one hour and twenty-seven minutes late.”

I take a deep breath and barrel ahead. “I thought I put my phone on the charger last night, but the plug fell out because the wall thingie is broken loose. So it died on me while I was asleep and my alarm didn’t go off. By the time Josh woke me up, Ben was gone, so I had to get the kids to school first, which made me miss my train. So I caught the second train into the city which was delayed by seven minutes due to some ‘technical difficulties,’ because of course it was.” I am very aware of the fact that I’m ranting now, but I can’t seem to stop myself. “And then I nearly took down an old lady as I ran to the building. And of course, there were, like, a hundred people in the elevator on the way up here. Do you know how slow that elevator is? Can someone look into that? And why is it always so crowded? You would think that a building with so many elevators wouldn’t have a crowding issue, but well, anyway…” I glance up at him and notice that raised brow. “Um… here I am.”

I’m winded by the time I finish. And now, I’m definitely sweating through my shirt.

Ruslan is silent, staring at me with that inscrutable expression of his.

“I really am sorry, Mr. Oryolov. I promise you, it won’t—”

“Sit down.”

He doesn’t leave me a lot of room to decline. I plonk myself down on a chair and wait for him to fire me.

But instead of reading me the Riot Act, Ruslan just walks across the office toward the door I came through.

My knee starts jumping as I stare unseeingly at the view in front of me. He’s gonna fire me. Or worse, he’s gonna bend me over the desk, make me forget all about being late, and then fire me, just to make that pink slip even pinker.

Would he really do that? After everything we’ve been through?

Of course, “everything we’ve been through” in this case just means a lot of sex. An insane amount of sex, if I’m being honest. Which may not be as significant to him as it has been for me.

Serves you right for catching feelings, dummy.