Cruel Paradise (Oryolov Bratva Book 1)

“For God’s sake, Ben, I’m working!”

“You wouldn’t answer my fuckin’ texts,” he growls over the phone. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Oh, I don’t know—wait, maybe? At least until I came back home!” I glance nervously at Ruslan’s door. If he comes out here and sees me on yet another personal call, I’m a dead woman. He’ll rake my ass over the coals for the sheer thrill of it.

I wince at the mere thought of my rear end. Every time I sit down, I’m reminded of the punishment I received at Ruslan’s hand last night. The whole day, I’ve oscillated between feeling sore and aroused.

I guess, when you’re sleeping with the boss, that’s just an occupational hazard.

Ben’s voice jolts me back to reality. “I don’t know how long that’ll take and I need money now!”

I bite my tongue to stop the steam of expletives from bubbling over. “You already have courtside Knicks tickets and a fridge full of beer. What could you possibly need money for now?”

“I have fucking needs, Emma.”

I have no idea what that means and I have no intention of asking. “I’m hanging up now, Ben.”

“If you hang up, I’ll just keep calling.”

“Then I’ll just keep hanging up.”

“Don’t make me come down there.”

I nearly gag with fear. “You wouldn’t!”

“Just watch me. I will—”

“Okay,” I hiss. “You blackmailing bastard. How much do you want?”

“Two hundred bucks.”

I answer automatically. “I don’t have that.”

“Bullshit.”

“I’m serious—”

“Okay, see you at the office, in like, half an hour?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Just transfer the money directly into my—Caro, Rae! Shut the hell up, I’m on the phone—into my account.”

“Don’t swear at them!” I hiss.

He just ignores me. “Go ahead and do it now. I can stay on the line with you while you make the transfer.”

You have got to be kidding me.

The thing is, I can’t afford to have Ben come down here and stir up shit. So I cave, which is probably the worst thing to do, but I can’t really see another way out.

I open my work laptop and pull up my personal banking page. “I’m transferring the money now. But seriously, this is the last of my cash for the month.”

“Sure, sure.” His voice goes muffled as he holds the phone away from his mouth. I hear mumbling, a few punctured screams in the background, and the sound of skittering footsteps. Then the line clears and his voice comes through again. “Are you doing it? The money hasn’t come through—Caro, stop crying, I barely touched you… I don’t know… just ignore him—shit, where was I? Oh, right, the money. Done yet?”

I click the transfer button and it starts to process my request. The screen is hijacked by a big rotating circle that informs me not to close the page.

“What is Caroline crying about?”

“Huh?”

“Ben, what is your daughter crying about?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“Um… dunno, something about this creepy guy following them.”

“What creepy guy?”

“Fuck if I know. Just kids being kids. Josh probably made it up to scare the girls.”

For goodness’ sake, does this man know his kids at all? “This is Josh you’re talking about, Ben. That boy wouldn’t scare a fly, let alone his sisters. And he doesn’t lie.”

“Bingo. Just got the payment. Later, Em.”

“Ben, hold on! I need to know who this guy—”

But it’s too late. The line goes dead and I’m left staring at the picture of Josh, Caroline, and Reagan on my screen, wondering if I should be panicking.

No need to panic. Just stay calm and gather more information.

Knowing that Ben is a lost cause, I call Amelia. She picks up immediately, but she’s not her usual chipper self. I want to ask what’s wrong, but I need to check in on the kids first.

“Amelia, can I talk to Josh, please?”

“Of course. Hang on.”

My knee is bouncing wildly when Josh takes the phone. “Auntie Em?”

“Hey, bud, I was just on the phone with your dad. He mentioned that Caroline was crying because some guy was following you? Is that right?”

Josh hesitates. “Yeah…”

My heart drops. “Are you sure he was following you?”

“He was watching us from outside the gate at school yesterday. And he followed us home today. He tried saying something to Caro at recess, too. I don’t like him.”

Okay, I’m very close to full-on Panic Mode. “What did he look like?”

“Um, I dunno, normal? Skinny and blonde. He just didn’t look nice, though.”

I want to vomit. That’s that reporter. Remmy something.

“The next time you see this man,” I say as casually as I can, “I want you to call me immediately, okay?” He’s quiet for a moment. “Josh? Did you hear me?”

“He’s standing out on the street, Auntie Em. He’s been watching the apartment since we got home from school.”

Panic.

Panic.

Panic.

I jump to my feet. “I’ll be home soon, honey, okay? Now, can you hand the phone back to Amelia?”

I arrange with Amelia to make sure she will stay with the kids until I get there. Then I grab my purse and beeline for the elevators.

“Where do you think you’re going, Ms. Carson?”

That icy snarl freezes me in my tracks.

Of course he chooses this moment to step out of his office. I’m starting to think he has a security camera aimed at my desk so he can keep track of my every movement.

“I’m leaving.” The panic is eroding all my more diplomatic sensibilities. “I’ve got a family emergency. The kids need me.”

I expect him to go all “Hm” on me and threaten to fire me if I walk out in the middle of a workday. But instead, his eyebrows pinch together. “What’s the emergency?”

“It’s nothing. Just this reporter. Remmy. He’s been bothering—look, it doesn’t matter. I just need to handle it really quickly and I’ll be right back.”

The moment I mention his name, recognition flickers across Ruslan’s eyes. “Remmy Jefferson. Of The Brooklyn Gazette?”

I inch back towards the elevators. Something in Ruslan’s face is scaring me. “Yeah, I think. He approached me a few days ago, asking if… well, he actually asked if I would spy on you for him. I turned him down, of course.”

Ruslan’s eyes narrow into slits. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because I shut him down and told him to take a hike. I thought that was the end of it. But now, he’s stalking my kids! He’s watching the house right now. The kids are all freaked out. I’m sorry, I gotta—”

“I’ll drive you there.”

I gape at him. “What?”

He walks fast towards the elevators. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

I keep glancing at him in the elevator on the way down. Letting me leave the office during working hours is one thing, but actually coming with me? Why would he do that?

“Um—you have meetings all evening,” I remind him as the doors whoosh open.

He pulls out his phone and starts tapping at the screen. “I’ll have Kirill cover for me.”

I’m so worried about the kids that I barely register the sleek Aston Martin that pulls up right outside the skyscraper. On the drive home, I keep picking at my cuticles, trying to calm my frayed nerves.

Ruslan glances at me out of the corner of his eye. “I know Remmy. He’s a fucking leech. But nothing I can’t handle.”

I nod, but I’m not going to relax completely until that creep is far away from the kids. Still, something registers in the recesses of my consciousness.

Was that… a gesture of comfort? From Ruslan Oryolov? I look out the window, wondering if I’m going to see pigs flying around the skyscrapers.

There are a handful of cars parked on the opposite side of the street when we pull up. I scan through the lineup, but I can’t figure out which one is Remmy’s. I’ll figure that part out later; right now, I need to make sure the kids are okay.

I’m on the second flight of stairs up the apartment when I realize that Ruslan is right behind me.

My first thought? He’s gonna see the apartment.

My second thought? He’s gonna meet the kids.

My third thought? Oh, fuck.

I push it all out of my head and use my key to get inside—except it’s been chain-locked. I peek in through the two inches of space the chain allows.

“Amelia? Josh?”

“Sorry!” Amelia calls. “Hold on a sec.”

I step back as the door closes shut. Then I hear the chain unlatch and Amelia throws it open for us. “Sorry, the kids were really scared, and—” She stops short, her eyes veering to the behemoth of a man behind me. “Um, yeah, so we… um… used the chain.”

Her cheeks flush bright scarlet. I have a pretty good idea as to why. Honestly, I don’t blame her. We women are only human, after all.

“Where are they?”

Amelia focuses on me. “They worked themselves up into a panic. The girls are hiding in Josh’s room underneath his blanket. And—”

“Auntie Em!” Josh yells as he enters the living room. He bolts towards me, his arms wrapping tight around my waist.

I kiss the top of his head. “How are the girls?”

“Scared,” he admits without letting go of me. “They think that man is gonna kidnap them.”

I’m immediately furious. Josh would never admit to being scared himself, but the fact that he’s clinging to me like he hasn’t done for years proves that he is, too.

“Amelia, would you mind staying with the girls?”

“Of course.” She stumbles away, her cheeks still mildly flushed.

“Listen, J—that man is a weasel.” I stroke his head the same way I used to when he woke up from a nightmare and had trouble going back to sleep. The eight or nine months after we buried Sienna held a lot of nights like that. “You have nothing to worry about.”

He swallows hard. “Why is he even here?”

Because of what I got myself involved in.

“Because he’s bored and jobless,” I assure him. “Now, you’re gonna stay here with your sisters and I’m gonna go down there and talk to him, okay?”

“But—”

“I won’t be more than five minutes. Hold down the fort, okay?”

I let go of Josh. But when I turn to the door, there’s a human-shaped boulder in my path. “Excuse me.”

Ruslan doesn’t move. His gaze skirts past me to Josh. I glance over my shoulder to see that Josh’s mouth is hanging open, his eyes wide and awed.

“Emma, you haven’t introduced us. This must be your nephew, Josh.” He offers his hand.

Josh snaps his mouth shut. He flushes, but his shoulders square and he straightens up as if he’s trying to make himself look as tall as possible. “I don’t know you.”

I raise my brows, taken aback by the stilted, angry way he’s talking. “Um, Josh—”

“It’s okay,” Ruslan says to me before turning back to Josh. “I’m Ruslan, your aunt’s boss.”

“Why are you here?”

“Josh!” But I can’t be too mad at him. He’s just trying to be the man of the house, the only way he knows how.

Ruslan just smiles.

Whoa, the famous Oryolov smile. It’s even more dazzling up close. But it doesn’t seem to have any effect on Josh, who most definitely does not return it.

“I’m here to help,” adds Ruslan.

The furrow in Josh’s brows eases, but only a little. “How?”

“I’m going to go out there and talk to that man. I’m going to make sure he never bothers you or your sisters ever again.”

“And Auntie Em?”

Ruslan nods. “And your Auntie Em, too.”

Josh gives him a tiny, begrudging nod. He watches Ruslan straighten up and head toward the door and he doesn’t so much as blink the entire time.

I get it—there’s just something about Ruslan. Quite apart from being an imposing man, his sheer presence takes up space the way no one else really can. He exudes that “take charge” aura that Josh has rarely seen in the men around him. Ben mostly just radiates “sad and lazy.”

“You’ll take care of everyone?” Ruslan is asking Josh, not me. He’s deadly serious, too. No trace of that smile.

Josh’s jaw tightens as he nods.

“Good.” Ruslan heads out the door as though everything is settled.

I follow him out into the dimly lit corridor and close the apartment door behind me. He’s already halfway down the stairs by the time I get it locked. “Wait!” I call ahead. “I—”

He stops on the landing and turns to look up at me. “You stay. I’ll handle this. I’m the one he wants.”

The tenderness of his voice throws me for a loop. I’m used to hearing him angry, annoyed, frustrated, or just completely impassive.

But this? He actually sounds halfway compassionate.

“Yeah, but it’s my kids he chose to stalk. Like some creepy fucking predator. And he’s scared the living hell out of them. So I’m gonna go down there and—”

“Emma.” His voice may be less harsh than it usually is, but it’s no less commanding. “Those kids are scared. They need you right now more than you need to kill him.”

That gets through to me.

Dammit. He’s right.

Suppressing a frustrated sigh, I gesture for him to go ahead. I wait until he’s disappeared down the stairs before I head back into the apartment.

Josh is waiting for me by the door. I take his hand as we head towards the girls’ bedroom. He gives me a shy glance. “Your boss is cool,” he breathes.

I force a smile. To an eight-year-old boy with no male role model, of course Ruslan is cool. But to a twenty-six-year-old woman with three young dependents, he’s nothing but dangerous.

Not for the first time, I begin to question all the choices I’ve been making recently.

Am I making a mistake?

Am I putting the kids in danger?

Is it too late to go back?

I’m afraid all the answers are “yes.”