Cruel Paradise (Oryolov Bratva Book 1)

“What about Russy?”

I hide my snort of laughter behind a cough when Ruslan shoots me a glare. Then he turns his attention back to the two little goobers who have been heckling him for an endless, relentless thirty minutes.

“No.”

“Can I call you Ru-Ru?”

He looks pained. “Not if you want me to respond.”

Josh is setting the table with a huge smile on his face. It’s so great to see him like this. Sometimes, I feel like the only time I see that smile is when Ruslan’s around.

And he has been around recently.

At least two nights a week, he drives me home and entertains the kids while I get dinner ready. Sometimes, he helps them build pillow forts in the girls’ room; other times, the evenings are devoted to Lego castles on the living room carpet. And then there are the nights, like tonight, when everyone is congregated around the kitchen table, talking over one another about nothing at all.

It’s true that I’m not his girlfriend and he’s not my boyfriend.

It’s true that we have a legally-binding contract that goes into explicit, excruciating detail about every facet of our relationship.

It’s true that he’s offering me money in exchange for whatever he expects of me.

It’s also true that he’s never said he loves me and he probably never will.

But the thing is, he’s amazing with my kids. He’s taken to them and they’ve taken to him in a way I would never have thought possible. I genuinely believe he cares about me. Enough to want to take care of my debt and my legal expenses and all the little stresses of my day-to-day life.

He’s got a wall up around his heart, but he told me why. And I’m willing to bet that opening up to anyone isn’t something that Ruslan Oryolov does very often.

Most importantly, we are monogamous.

So in the end, why would I get hung up over a title? Why would I care about not being enough when he’s paid me the unique compliment of wanting me to be the mother of his child? Sure, it’s not traditional.

But hey—traditional is boring, right?

Reagan descends into violent giggles as Ruslan grabs her, hoists her onto his lap, and starts tickling her on the sides of her belly. I watch them for a few minutes, feeling a sense of calm that surges through me whenever the five of us are together.

It’s starting to feel less like an experiment and more like a family.

I don’t need to be his wife. I just need this.

Which, of course, is when I hear the thundering slam of a door and the hideous, unwelcome thump of two heavy feet. One thought and one thought only races through my head.

I spoke too soon.

Reagan buries her face in Ruslan’s chest, Caroline shifts to cower at his side, and Josh tosses me a nervous glance that he quickly shifts towards the door.

Ever since the incident, Ben has kept his distance. He comes home late, long after the kids and I go to bed, and he leaves around midday, when I’m at work and the kids are at school. None of us are expecting him here at this hour.

“Why don’t you excuse me for a bit, guys?” Ruslan stands up and props Reagan back on his chair. “I have something I’d like to discuss with Ben.”

My eyes go wide with panic. “Ruslan…”

He ignores me completely. “I won’t be long.”

He doesn’t wait for me to tell him all the reasons why talking to Ben would be a bad idea. He leaves the kitchen, clapping Josh on the back on his way out.

“Josh, stay with the girls, okay? We’ll be right back.”

Then I rush into the living room behind Ruslan. Ben is already sprawled out on the couch, looking like he’s crawled out of some dank, smelly hole.

His eyelids burst open when he sees Ruslan emerge. “What the—”

“Get up,” Ruslan rumbles.

That tone. Good Lord. It’s got the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. I can only imagine what kind of effect it has on Ben.

Enough, apparently, to get him on his feet.

“You and I are going to go downstairs and have a little talk,” Ruslan continues.

Yeah, okay, maybe it was a mistake telling Ruslan about the incident with Josh the other night. I’d just been really upset and talking to him made me feel better.

Until right now, of course.

Now, I wonder if I’m about to witness a murder.

“W-why can’t we talk right here?” Ben gulps.

I used to think of Ben as a big man. He’s six feet tall and built well. But next to Ruslan, Ben looks like a hobbit. And he looks afraid.

“Because I don’t want to upset the kids. You’ve done enough damage as it is.”

Ben looks at me. “Emma?”

Does he actually expect me to help him out here?

Ruslan slides in between us and points for the door without breathing another word. Ben scowls, but he stumbles to where Ruslan is directing him and the two of them slink out.

I turn back to make sure the kids are staying tucked out of sight. Josh gives me a brave thumbs up, then drags his sisters back onto the couch.

With a sharp inhale, I follow the men out.

Ben has followed Ruslan to the sidewalk. The street is quiet and empty of people, except for the line of cars parked along the curb. I keep my distance.

“Okay,” Ruslan says, turning to Ben. “I’m gonna speak slowly so you can understand. Lay a hand on any of those kids ever again and I’ll cut it the fuck off and feed the birds with it. If you won’t protect them from the world, then you leave me no choice but to protect them from you.”

Ruslan’s so focused on Ben that I’m sure he misses the subtle flash popping off at regular intervals. I glance in the direction of the flash and catch a shadowy figure darting behind one of the cars on the opposite side of the street. I know that figure.

Remmy.

Ben, of course, chooses this moment to try his hand at being an alpha. “L-listen, buddy: I’m their dad. This is none of your business.”

“I’m making it my business, yebanyy mudak.” He advances towards Ben, who backs into the bricks and shrinks.

I rush to Ruslan’s side. “Ruslan,” I whisper, “Remmy’s here. Across the street.”

His hands stay curled into tight fists, though. He continues to glare at Ben as though he didn’t hear a word I just said.

Ben tries to remain unbothered but the red spots forming across his cheeks are betraying him. “L-listen—”

“No, you listen.” He takes another step forward and I genuinely believe he’s going to beat the shit out of Ben. “You come within five miles of those kids and I will make your life a living hell. Do you understand?”

Back down, Ben. For the love of God, back down!

“Fine,” Ben snaps. “I don’t need this shit.”

He storms off towards his car—the same one Ruslan fixed—climbs in and drives off. When he’s gone, Ruslan turns to me. “Remmy?” he mutters, moving closer to my side and looping a strong arm around my shoulders.

I look over at the car Remmy was hiding behind, but he’s nowhere to be seen. “He’s gone…”

“Good fucking riddance.” He pulls me in close and presses a tender kiss to the soft space behind my ear. “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” I lie. “Yeah. Of course.”

But the truth is, I’m rattled.

Ben and Remmy in one night—it’s too much. Why can’t things just be good? Then I catch a whiff of Ruslan’s oaky scent and that sense of calm settles right back over me. It’s getting to be familiar now. I’m coming to rely on it—which is dangerous in its own right, but we’re long past the point of no return.

Ruslan steers me towards the apartment. “Let’s go up to the kids.”

From his lips, nothing has ever sounded sweeter.