Cruel Paradise (Oryolov Bratva Book 1)

While the girls run into school, I put my hand on Josh’s shoulder. “Hey, kiddo, can you hang back a minute?”

Josh turns those sullen eyes on me and nods. We walk over to the low wall that circles the school garden and sit down.

“Am I in trouble?”

“No, of course not,” I assure him. “I just want to talk to you.”

When I went back into the living room last night, Ruslan was saying something to Josh in a low voice. By the time I saw Ruslan out the door and come back, Josh had already retreated to his bedroom. I crept in there hoping to talk to him, but he had the covers pulled tight above his head.

Say what you want about me, but I can take a hint.

“About last night?” He’s chewing on his bottom lip and pulling at the edges of his cuticles.

Gently, I pry his hand free and weave it through mine. “Yes, about last night.”

“I’m sorry.”

It breaks my heart how sad he looks right now—almost embarrassed. “I know you are. And I know you’re dealing with a lot right now. I want you to know that you can talk to me, Josh. About anything. Even about your dad.”

His lip falls out of his bite and quivers. “He makes me so angry.”

“I don’t blame you. It’s okay to be angry, Josh, but you have to try not to let that anger control you. I just want you to be safe. That’s all.”

He glances at me anxiously out of the corner of his eyes. “So you’re not upset with me?”

I wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him as close to me as possible. “Of course not. You’re a great kid. The best kid I know, actually.” He gives me a tiny smile and I kiss the top of his head. “So you lost it for a moment. Trust me: even adults lose it sometimes.”

He shrugs. “I bet Ruslan never loses it.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” I poke him in the shoulder playfully. “Ruslan’s a person, same as you and me.”

He pushes off the stone wall and gives me a smile that makes my heart melt. “I’m glad Ruslan’s around. I like him.”

I have no idea what to say to that, so I point towards the school. “Go on now; I don’t want you to be late.” He hugs my waist and races towards the steps.

Great. Just freaking great.

Looks like I’m not the only one who’s gone and caught feelings for Ruslan Oryolov.

“Good morning, Ms. Carson.”

I spring to my feet as he sweeps down the hall on his way from the executive lounge. “Mr. Oryolov! Good morning. Your schedule is on your desk.”

He nods. “And the meeting with the Santino people?”

“Confirmed for 3:00 P.M. this afternoon.” He surveys the messy heap of papers on my desk and I cringe. “Um, I was just gonna clean—”

“How’s Josh?”

The stern professionalism in his voice drops for a moment. This is his “after hours” voice. The one he uses when I’m “Emma,” not “Ms. Carson.”

“He’s fine.” It’s an automatic answer and one that Ruslan sees through immediately. He cocks an eyebrow at me. “Okay, maybe not ‘fine,’” I concede. “He’s struggling.”

“I talked to him last night when you were putting the girls to bed. I want to help.”

“You want to what?”

“The boy is going through a lot and the fact that he’s holding everything in is exactly why he’s prone to angry outbursts.” He fixes me with that unblinking amber gaze. “I’m guessing this is not the first time he’s thrown a tantrum like that.”

I squirm where I stand. Would it be a betrayal of Josh to cop to that? No, I can trust Ruslan.

“No, it’s not. Far from it.”

Ruslan nods. “He needs an outlet for his anger. He needs someone to help him channel it.”

“And you want to help with that.”

“I’m uniquely qualified to.”

I raise my eyebrows. “How do you figure that?”

“Because I’ve been where he is.”

I try to keep my expression stoic, but I’m pretty sure the surprise shows in my eyes. This is possibly the first time he’s allowed me a glimpse into his past. And the fact that he’s letting his guard down for my nephew—it means a lot.

“What do you say?”

What do I say? Excellent question. Because the truth is, what I want to do and what I have to do are two totally different things. “He really looks up to you, you know.”

“I know.”

“And… he’s getting attached fast.” I swallow back my doubt. “Which is why I have to say no. I’m sorry, I really do appreciate the offer, but I can’t keep exposing Josh to another person he stands a chance of losing.”

I hold my breath, waiting for some pushback. It’s gotta be coming, in a particularly angry fashion, in three, two, one…

“I understand.”

Um—what?

He doesn’t even look annoyed. Just shrugs calmly. “I can respect that. Just know that if you change your mind, the offer still stands.”

With that, he brushes past me and walks into his office. The door snaps shut. And—that’s it.

I plonk myself down behind my desk and try to rein in the rollercoaster of emotions that’s hurtling through me.

I’m surprised by how easily he accepted my decision.

I’m touched by how willing he was to help my nephew.

I’m honored by the tiny little window he gave me into his past.

And all that adds up to… is a shit-ton of attraction that I have no idea how to process.

Worse yet… no idea how to stop.

“Reagan, honey, eat your peas.”

“I hate peas.”

I fix her with a stern glance. “We don’t use that word in this house.”

Her bottom lip sticks out and Josh drags his chair a little closer to her. “Eating peas can be fun, Rae. Look.” He grabs a pea off her plate and tosses it in the air. Then he leans forward with his mouth open and it plops right in. “See?”

Reagan’s face twists into delight. “Do it again!”

He shakes his head. “You gotta try it this time.”

She gives her plate an uncertain grimace but she takes a pea. Of course, the first one lands on the table instead of her mouth. But, three tries later: “I did it!” she cries while Josh, Caroline, and I applaud like she just won Olympic gold. She chews happily and hums a song.

I snort with laughter and give Josh a grateful wink. It never ceases to amaze me how tactful he is with the girls. More like a parent than an older brother sometimes. It’s even more apparent after dinner, when the girls run into the living room to crawl into their pillow fort while Josh stays in the kitchen to help me clean up.

His head barely reaches over the sink. But there he stands, balancing on his tiptoes as he rinses out the plates.

“Hon, I can manage. You don’t need to wash up.”

He shrugs. “I don’t mind.”

No, but I do.

“Hey, Josh?” He glances over at me and grunts that he’s listening as he continues to scrub silverware. “What do you wanna do this weekend?”

With a shrug, he mumbles, “I dunno. Whatever the girls want to do.”

I toss him the dish towel and gesture for him to join me at the kitchen table. “We’re always doing things that the girls want. I believe that pillow fort in the living room was their idea. And I’m ninety-nine percent sure you weren’t the one who suggested the tea party last week. So this weekend is your weekend. You get to pick.”

He just shrugs again, completely noncommittal. I blink at my eight-year-old nephew as a rogue tear comes to my eye. Where did the happy boy go? Right on the mantel is a picture of him, a fat-cheeked Josh with a huge, toothless grin as he swatted at a balloon tied to his stroller. Where’s that boy? Who is this solemn little man standing in his place?

When did I lose him?

“What if we went to the park and had a picnic, all of us together?”

Josh’s eyes go wide. “Dad, too?” There’s an edge of panic in his voice.

“Oh, well, I wasn’t necessarily thinking of your dad. Unless you want to ask—”

“No!” he says fiercely. “I don’t want Dad to come.”

His hands are balled into fists, his entire body wound tight with tension. Something about it just feels so wrong to me. He shouldn’t have feelings this big, this thorny, this dark.

“Then we don’t have to invite him.” I put my hand on Josh’s shoulder. His trembles run through me as his eyes dart to mine, then away again. “He’s not invited, okay?”

He nods and I bite down on my tongue to keep the tears from spilling over. “Why don’t you go get ready for bed, sweetheart? I have a quick call to make and then I’ll come tuck you in.”

The moment he leaves the kitchen, I grab my phone and scramble through the window onto the fire escape. I dial in Ruslan’s number—embarrassingly, I know it by heart—and wait for him to pick up. I start babbling as soon as he answers.

“He doesn’t know how to be a kid! He’s forgotten how to be an eight-year-old and that’s completely my fault because I haven’t allowed him to be an eight-year-old. He’s had to shoulder the burden of his fuck-up dad; he’s had to look after his sisters; and I didn’t notice because I was just… I was so damn busy. But tonight, I saw it so clearly. I fucked up, Ruslan. I’ve fucked him up and—”

“Emma.”

That’s all it takes to shut me up.

“You inherited three children, a drunk, and a fuck ton of debt. You were trying to survive.”

He’s not wrong; it just doesn’t really make me feel better. “He’s so angry, Ruslan. And how could I blame him? He has every right to be angry. He lost his mother to a drunk driver, he lost his father to grief and booze, and now, he’s forced to be an adult for his sisters. It’s not fair!”

“You’re right—it’s not fair. But Josh is a strong kid. And he has you.”

“I’m not sure that’s enough anymore.” I take a deep breath. “Ruslan, I’m taking you up on your offer to help him.”

“I thought you might.”

“Am I that predictable?”

His dark chuckle does a little something to my knees. “No. You just love the boy that much.”

Okay. That does make me feel better.

“I’ll pick him up after school tomorrow,” he says. “That okay?”

I nod gratefully. “Yes. I’ll inform the school. Thank you, Ruslan. I just—thank you.”

“Goodnight, Emma.”

Josh is pouring himself a glass of water when I crawl back through the window. He raises his eyebrows and I give him a guilty smile. “Busted.”

He giggles and the sound warms me from the inside out. I’m not gonna stop until I hear that sound every freaking day, five times a day. Ten, if I can manage it.

It’s not too late to save him.

“Guess what, kiddo?” I wait until I have his full attention, though I can’t keep the goofy grin from my face. “Ruslan’s gonna be picking you up from school tomorrow.”

His eyes go round and his jaw drops. “Ruslan? Really?”

“He wants to do something with you. And I think it might be fun. What do you say?”

“I-I… Yeah! Okay!” He runs towards me and grabs me around the waist. “Thank you, Aunt Em!”

That night, after all three kids are in bed, I slip into the shower. My tears are lost under the running water when I think about that worshipful look in Josh’s eyes when I told him about Ruslan. He used to look at Ben like that, once upon a time. Sienna would be heartbroken if she could see the state her family is in now.

I’m sorry, Si, I sob silently as the cold water numbs my skin. I’m doing the best I can.