Cruel Paradise - A Mafia Romance Chapter 76

I need him.

He pulls me to my feet and starts undressing me. I stand there, biting my lip, trying to get my game face on. But once we’re in the tub—him at my back and me staring at the pretty little foam bubbles that caress my skin—he doesn’t make a move.

He keeps his hands thrown over each side of the tub, while I lie nestled between his legs, my bare back pressed against his naked chest. By the time I stop crying, the foam has dissipated somewhat and the silence has gone on so long that it’s become comfortable.

When I finally break it, my voice comes out all croaky. “Today is… Sienna’s birthday. Or… it would have been.”

His right arm leaves the edge of the tub and wraps around my waist.

I rest the back of my head against his shoulder. “I don’t know why this day hit me so hard this time around.” I sigh. “I guess it was a few things. I came home late last night expecting to find the kids asleep. Amelia had gone home an hour earlier and Ben was supposed to be with the kids…”

“He wasn’t?” There’s a tiny little snap in Ruslan’s voice.

“No, no, he was. He just happened to have thrown up on the living room floor and passed out on the sofa.”

Ruslan’s arm tightens around my waist.

“I walked in to find Josh on his hands and knees, cleaning it up. His eyes were swollen, so I knew he’d been crying. I thought the kids would be okay with Ben for that hour. It was just one hour.” Thankfully, I’m all cried out. And I’m finding that saying all this out loud is really helping. “I helped him clean up but he barely said a word the whole time. He was just so… out of it. Even when I put him to bed, it was like he was looking through me.” I shiver with the weight of my failure. “I wanted to make Sienna proud. I wanted to be the best stand-in mother I could be for her kids. But…” My breath hitches up but I force myself to say it, the thing I’ve suspected for quite some time now but never dared utter aloud. “… I don’t think I’m a very good mother.”

It would have been the only gift she’d have wanted today. And I couldn’t even give her that.

“Emma. You are a good mother.”

I flinch. “You’re just saying that.”

“I never ‘just say’ anything.”

That almost makes me smile. “Well, you wouldn’t say it if you knew what goes on in my head sometimes.” “Try me.”

I mean, I’d just admitted that I’m not a good mother. Why not back it up with some solid proof, huh? I’ve opened Pandora’s box, so why not let the secrets fly?

Also—those arms of his are making me feel like I can say anything and he’ll hold me together through it all.

“Sometimes, I think about accepting my parents’ offer to help.”

“And that’s a bad thing because their offer comes with strings?”

“Exactly.”

“Which are?”

I swallow my hesitation. “They’re willing to provide for the kids, but only if I grant them custody first.”

Ruslan gets very still all of a sudden. “And you don’t want to lose them?”

“It’s not that. I mean, of course I’d hate to lose them. I love those kids with every fiber of my being. But if they were going to be well-looked after, provided for and loved, then I would give my parents free rein. But Barrett and Beatrice’s idea of raising children involves fancy private boarding schools, foreign nannies, and mandatory attendance at horrible social events. Sienna fought so hard so that the two of us didn’t have to endure that life forever. She wouldn’t want her kids to have to go through the same thing. If she knew I was even considering it, she’d be so disappointed in me.”

Suddenly, I feel air flood my back as Ruslan pushes me off him. He twists me around so that we’re face to face.

“Emma.” His voice is gentler than I’ve ever heard it before. “You’ve considered it—but you haven’t done it.”

Sniffing back my tears, I nod. “I know I can’t give them everything, but at least now, they have each other. They have me.”

“Trust me, Emma: money isn’t everything. You didn’t have to uproot your life for those kids. You didn’t have to take care of their father, either. You don’t have to put up with Ben and his demons—but you do all that anyway. Because you don’t want those kids losing their father as well.” My eyes connect with his and now, I can’t look away. “You have made every possible sacrifice for those children. You’d do anything for them and they know that. If that’s not a good mother, I don’t know what is. That’s why I wanted to add a baby clause into our contract. Because I want my child to have the comfort and benefit of your kindness, your love, your patience.”

My eyes go wide as he speaks. Am I really hearing this? It almost feels like I’m dreaming.

“I could easily hire a surrogate to carry a child for me. But that requires raising a child on my own and I don’t have the inclination or the skill set to do it alone. I want my child to have a real mother, a good mother. And I happen to believe that you are a great one.”

Those scorching amber eyes of his are softer tonight, buoyed by a tenderness that I’ve never seen in him before.

“I… I assumed you picked me because I was close and… and convenient.”

He shakes his head, his jaw clenching firmly. “I chose you for you, Emma Carson. For your character, your compassion, your capacity to love. I chose you because there’s no one else in this whole fucking world I can see myself raising a child with.”

I breathe out slowly, captivated by his words, by the look in his eyes.

And somehow, that changes everything.

53

RUSLAN

This is the first time she’s let me in.

And instead of being wary, like I probably should be, I just feel grateful. I’m glad she’s finally opening up to me. I’m glad she’s pulling down her walls and letting me see inside.

Even though all it does is make me greedy for more.

“I’m sorry—I just threw up all over you. Emotionally speaking.”

She blushes hard and the need to kiss her is so bad that I don’t bother denying myself. Her lips shiver against mine, soft and feather-light.

“I just… I don’t really have anyone I can talk to,” she admits when I pull away. “My parents are barely human, my best friend has her own shit to deal with, and my sister died on me…” Her eyes flutter up. “I really appreciate you listening to all my drama. But please feel free to tell me to shut up at any time.”

“You’re allowed to grieve your sister. You’re allowed to miss her. You’re even allowed to be angry with her.”

Her eyebrows rise a notch. “How did you—”

“Because I’ve been there. I’ve grieved my own losses. I still am. Grief isn’t something that just goes away on its own. It doesn’t come with an expiration date.”

She opens her mouth, then shuts it. I can understand her hesitation. I haven’t exactly encouraged these kinds of vulnerable conversations in the history of our relationship. But now that we’re here, it doesn’t feel quite as threatening as I would’ve guessed.

“It’s okay. You can ask me.”

Her gaze softens. “Who did you lose?”

When was the last time I chose to talk about them? When was the last time I willingly thought about them? Their memories live in a dark, locked box in my heart and that’s where I thought they’d always stay. But as soon as Emma asks the question, the lid of that box goes flying open and I’m talking before I even realize it.

“My mother and my brother.”

“Both?” she gasps.

“At the same time. Car accident.”