Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 67

He chuckles. “I’ll give you the chance to figure that one out while we dance.”

I stare at the hand he’s offering me. “I don’t know. I kinda like my quiet little stool in the corner.”

“Oh, come on. You’re far too pretty to be sitting here all by yourself.”

I glance past the dancefloor and catch Ruslan’s back. Jessica, of course, is not far away from him. Her hand glides over the back of his coat before she loops it through his arm.

I’ve been sitting here for more than an hour and he hasn’t so much as glanced my way. Not even once. It really does feel like a “gotcha” moment. Here’s a beautiful red dress and a gorgeous pair of shoes, Emma. Now, come sit and watch while I tote around New York’s most obnoxious daddy’s girl while I ignore you completely.

Yeah, well—I don’t have to sit and watch. I don’t have to play the wallflower. If I have to endure this evening, I can do it on the dance floor with a man who seems more than willing to shower me with the attention and compliments that Ruslan is cruelly withholding.

I slip my hand into his and give him a decisive nod. “Fine. Let’s dance.”

46

RUSLAN

“I must say, the two of you make a wonderful couple.”

Fyodor coughs discreetly while Vadim flashes me his biggest smile. He only totes that cheesing smirk out at events like these. I’ve come to hate it with a fucking passion.

“Aren’t we, Vadim?” Jessica trills as she reaches up to adjust my collar yet again.

Does the woman think I’m some thumbless ape that can’t adjust his own outfit? Every time I move out from under her reach, she finds a way to latch onto me again. Bloodsucking fucking ghoul. I can’t wait to be rid of her.

Vadim ogles us with a suggestive smirk. “I can just imagine what the kids will look like.”

He’s so full of it. No one can imagine what the kids will look like—mostly because, at this point, no one can even remember what Jessica’s original face looked like.

“Oh, they’d be so gorgeous, don’t you think so, Rus?”

My head swivels in her direction. Did she just call me Rus?

I drop my arm from around her waist and reach for another flute of champagne. It’s my third glass of the night already, but this weak shit will not suffice. Spending any length of time with Jessica Allens requires hard liquor. Lots of it.

I catch a flourish of scarlet from the corner of my eye and I turn automatically. I’ve spent the last half an hour double-taking at every woman dressed in red. Then I catch a whiff of citrus and I know it’s her.

And my fucking God, she looks stunning.

I’ve imagined this very dress on her a hundred times already, but my imagination didn’t come close to doing her justice. Emma in real life is more than I could’ve ever dreamed. The fabric drapes smoothly around her body, highlighting her slim waist, her gorgeous breasts, the flush of her perfect skin.

And her lips. They’re painted with a deep, dangerous crimson and just begging to be wrapped around my cock.

My immediate reaction is desire. Hot and dense, shot through with need.

My second reaction is rage.

I’ve spent my whole life practicing the art of control. In my line of work, if you lose it, you die. But now, in the fucking crucible, with allies and enemies swarming on every side… I’m too pissed to rein it in.

There are too many eyes on her. Too many second looks, too many lingering glances. The women are largely tolerable, but the men—I’m tempted to write down every single name so that I can personally pluck out their eyes later.

“Darling, what’re you looking at?”

When I don’t immediately look at her, Jessica floats her fingers across my cheek. It takes every last fiber of discipline I have not to flinch away from her touch.

Jessica Allens does not belong on my arm.

Emma does.

And now, I’ve lost her amongst the crowd.

“Don’t mind him, Jessica. He’s just in boss mode still.” I hate that I’m letting Vadim make my excuses, but at least someone is keeping the she-devil at ease. I can’t even muster up the energy to lie to her convincingly.

“All work and no play makes Ruslan a very dull boy,” she quips, laughing hysterically at her own bad joke. Then she gasps. “Oh my God! Lola, is that you? Excuse me for a minute, darling; I have to go say hello.”

“Take all the minutes you want,” I mutter under my breath. The moment she clears my space, I feel a hundred pounds lighter. “Thank fuck for Lola.” I remind myself to donate something sizable to the woman’s charity later.

Fyodor fixes me with a penetrating gaze. “You’ll have to make a choice soon, my son.”

He doesn’t say anything else—but Uncle Vadim, of course, can’t leave it there. “The Allens girl has amazing connections and enough money to rival your fortune.”

I scoff. “No amount of money is worth procreating with that banshee. I’d rather lose a testicle.”

My father lets out a weary sigh. Vadim just clicks his tongue with disapproval. “Wisdom is wasted on the young.”

I’m about to tell him exactly where he can shove his wisdom when Jessica appears again, all too soon. But since the appendage she’s pulling towards me is a man I might need one day, I put on my most charming smile.

“Commissioner Allens,” I say to her father. “How nice to see you again.”

He gives me a hearty handshake. “Ruslan! Pleasure, pleasure.”

While he’s greeting Vadim and Fyodor, I spot a mirage of red off in the distance. I shift an inch to the side and catch Emma sitting by the bar.

Except she’s not alone.

The fury turns my vision spotty when I realize who she’s talking to.

Adrik fucking Makarov.

If I thought I was pissed before, it doesn’t hold a candle to the inferno burning through my veins right now. I’m seconds away from going absolutely berserk if that fucker doesn’t move away from her right fucking now, when—

“Ruslan?” Hiram Allens’s deep voice cuts through the sharp edge of my anger.

Goddammit. I swallow hard and turn to him, forcing the smile back onto my face. “Will you excuse me for just a minute, Commissioner? I’ve got some business I need to see to.”

I’m not so blinded by rage that I don’t see the incredulous looks on Jessica’s and Vadim’s faces when I excuse myself from Hiram’s company. Even Fyodor looks mildly surprised and he rarely concerns himself with the politics anymore.

But I can’t concentrate on charming the head of the NYPD when that slimy motherfucker has his sights set on my woman.

I start carving my way through the crowd towards the bar in the far corner. But before I can get close enough to Adrik to strangle him, Kirill inserts himself right in my path. “Whoa, let’s take a breath there, brother. I know where you’re going and, trust me—that’s not a good idea.”

“You were supposed to be taking care of Emma tonight.” I’m this fucking close to pushing him aside and just barreling my way down to that bar. “Why the fuck didn’t you run interference?” “Because the moment I do, Adrik is gonna know that Emma is a weak spot for you.”

Those two words.

Weak spot.