Cruel Paradise (Oryolov Bratva Book 1)
: Chapter 68

So many things have changed since the night Ruslan showed up at my door.

For starters, this is the first time I’ve ever initiated a meeting at the penthouse. Ruslan seemed confused earlier when I called him to ask if it was possible. He was quiet for a while. Hesitating? Considering refusing? I’m not sure. But in the end, he’d sent Boris to collect me from the apartment.

I don’t quite know why, but I’m nervous as hell when I step through those shiny silver doors. Probably because we’re moving into uncharted territory here. A few months ago—hell, a few weeks ago—I’d never have expected Ruslan to show up outside my door, determined to be a part of my life despite the fact that I couldn’t give him what he wanted.

Something’s shifting between us. It’s not just sex anymore. It’s sex and feelings.

And all the messiness that comes with it.

The penthouse living room is empty, so I try the bedroom instead. He’s lying on the bed in his boxers, looking incredibly comfortable.

And incredibly sexy…

Focus, Emma.

“Hey.”

He sits up and gestures for me to come over. I slide into the bed beside him and take a deep breath. “I wanted to say something to you.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I’m listening.”

“I wanted to say… thank you. For taking care of me like you did. For staying with me. For looking after the kids. And most importantly, for choosing to stick around. Even now.”

He exhales a soft, raspy rumble. “Where would I go?”

There’s an anxious trembling in my heart. I’m on the edge of happiness; I’m just terrified to fall.

I glance over to the chair by the window. His Armani suit is draped over it and it reminds me of what’s happening tonight.

August thirteenth.

“Oh, shit! You have a big event at Alcazar tonight, don’t you? That’s why you were hesitant on the phone—shit—I’m so sorry—” I jerk upright, ready to get off the bed.

But he grabs my arm and pulls me back down. “Emma. Calm down. It’s okay.”

“I should have remembered. I haven’t been to work in three days and I’ve already forgotten everything.”

His chuckle soothes me. He coaxes me closer to him and runs his fingers down my face. “The bruise looks better.”

I nod. “The cut is healing nicely, too. Had my stitches checked this morning.” I glance at the suit again, shining a moody navy in the evening sunlight. “I’ll get out of your way—

Ruslan doesn’t loosen his hold on me. “I’ve got some time. And you’ve come all this way…”

He gives me a smile that makes me blush right down to my toes. “Are you sure?”

He squeezes my ass as he hauls me into his lap and grinds his erection against my heat. “What do you think? Do I feel unsure?”

I cup the side of his face and kiss him. I go in hot and heavy, my tongue pushing into his mouth, desperate to have him claim me the way he likes, the way I love. His hands slide up and down my back but it’s more of a caress than a I’m-gonna-rip-your-clothes-off pawing.

Tenderly, he pushes me backwards onto the bed and rains soft little kisses along my face and down my neck.

Strange. He’s never this gentle.

I arch my hips up until I can feel his hardness. I rub myself against him, desperate for some friction. While he plays with my earlobe, I reach down and wrap my hand around his cock.

“Fuck me, Ruslan,” I whisper in his ear. “I want you to fuck me hard.”

He laughs, his breath fanning out over my face, sweet and cool. “I’m happy to fuck you… but we’re gonna take it slow today.”

I pout. “Why?”

He rears back and looks at me with a half-smile on his face. “Emma, you spent the night in a hospital only three days ago, remember?” Sᴇaʀ*ᴄh the (F)indNƟvᴇl.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

I just push my hips into his groin a little harder. “I can take it.”

He shakes his head. “I’ve created a monster.”

“Then maybe you need to tame me.”

“Oh, I plan to,” he says with a fierce snarl. Then he sighs and it smooths out again. “Just… not tonight.”

He silences me with a kiss, his fingers pushing my skirt up and my panties aside. My heart is thrumming softly as he glides his fingers over my clit. Usually, the sex is so explosive that I can’t think straight.

This is different.

I am thinking. About how good this feels. About how gentle he’s being with me. How easily it would be to misconstrue his tenderness for love.

When he finally enters me, I gasp, my gaze connecting with his. Those scorching amber eyes are brighter than I’ve ever seen them. His thrusts are so controlled. The slow build is in some ways more intense than the heated, button-ripping, breathless-gasping sex I’m used to having with Ruslan. Everything feels so much more heightened.

Unbroken eye contact and synchronized breathing and the way his lips ghost over mine, as if I’m the most precious thing in the world.

Careful, Emma…

I told myself that it didn’t matter what he called me. I didn’t need a title or for him to say he loved me. This is what matters. This crazy, cosmic, powerful connection that we’re experiencing together—this is all I need.

But still… it would be so freaking amazing to hear it all the same.

When I come, it takes my breath away.

Afterwards, as I’m struggling to put my skirt back on straight, he grabs me. Tender again. Soft. “I’m going to be busy the next couple of nights. But if you need me, just call. I’ll be there.”

I smile. “I’ll call.”

Ben is standing in the living room facing the door when I walk in.

“My God!” I gasp, holding a hand to my racing heart. “Creepy much?”

“Where’ve you been?”

“None of your business.” I glare at him as I drop my purse on the kitchen table. “Are the kids all in bed?”

“Amelia’s putting them to sleep right now,” he says dismissively. “Did you forget that I needed to talk to you?”

I sigh. “What did you need to speak to me about, Ben?”

My body goes cold at the nasal voice that emerges from just around the corner. “About what a bad, bad girl you’ve been.”

“What the—”

Remmy steps into the living room, his arms folded over his chest, that skin-crawling leer on his lips. “Hello there, pretty woman.”

I look between Ben and Remmy as horror scours through me. “What the hell is this?”

Ben moves to the sofa. “I think the better question would be, what the hell is this?” He plucks out something from behind one of the cushions.

I freeze. I recognize that sheaf of papers.

The contract.

“Where did you get that?” I whisper.

“The glove compartment of your car, of course. Where you hid it,” he sneers at me.

“What the hell were you doing in my car?” I’m shaking now. If I don’t resort to anger, I’ll be reduced to tears.

Ben just shrugs. “Figured, since you were outta commission for a few days, I’d make use of the new wheels. Turns out that was a great decision. Who knew I’d strike gold?”

“You fucking bas—”

“Now, now, Emma, there’s no need to get emotional,” Remmy chides, pushing himself off the wall. “I did warn you.”

I try to lunge for the contract but Ben holds it out of my reach. Chuckling, he passes it to Remmy, who starts tut–tutting in my direction. “Who would have thought, hm? The pretty little assistant, no better than a two-bit hooker on the side of the road.”

“That is not what this is!”

“Oh, no?” Remmy asks with arched eyebrows. “Because there’s a whole clause in this contract that details how you will be paid an exorbitant sum of money every month for spreading your legs two nights a week in a luxurious penthouse with Ruslan Oryolov.”

I want to kill Ben, but since Remmy’s the one with his finger on the trigger, I focus my energy on him.

“Remmy, please—don’t print this.”

He shrugs, eyes gleaming like lit coals. “If you had come clean with me in the beginning, I’d have found a way to protect you. I could have blacked out your name in this contract, protected your identity. Now, though…” He shrugs again. “Now, I couldn’t care less about your reputation.”

He really thinks I care about my reputation. The only reputation I’m thinking about right now is Ruslan’s.

I’m this close to a panic attack. If only I had the luxury of succumbing to one. “Okay. Okay. What do you want?”

Remmy smiles. “Oh, now, she asks.”

“Money—is that it?” I press, looking between the two scumbags in front of me. “I can get you money. Just, please, bury the story.”

Remmy shakes his head. “Sorry, honey. No amount of money will sway me. My only goal is destroying Ruslan Oryolov. You just happen to be collateral damage.” He drops the contract onto the coffee table. “You can keep that. I have plenty of copies.” He slams the door on his way out.

I turn slowly to Ben. “Do you realize what you just did?”

His fists knot up at his sides, but his eyes are weirdly hazy and distant. “I’m not sure the whore should be casting judgment. I saw an opportunity and I took it. It’s not like you were gonna share all your dirty money with me.”

I swallow my tears. My hands are still trembling. I shouldn’t feel so betrayed, but I think a part of me was still clinging to the hope that Ben could be saved. For his kids’ sake, if nothing else.

“The difference between us is that I took Ruslan’s money for those children.” I jab a quivering finger down the hall where they’re sleeping. “You took Remmy’s money for yourself. And you screwed me and the kids over in the process.”

“Oh, boo fucking hoo.”

When he tries to walk past me, I get right in his face. “What the hell happened to you?” I scream, stabbing my finger in his chest. “What happened to the man my sister married?”

The scowl on his face freezes. His mouth drops and his eyebrows arch and those hands vibrate even faster at his sides. For a moment, I think he might actually hit me. “That man died when she did.”

Then he pushes past me and disappears into his room.

I let out a strangled sob. What do I do now? But the answer is obvious. There’s only one thing I can do.

I need to tell Ruslan. I need to explain what’s happened so we can fix this. I grab my car keys and race back out…

Hoping against hope that this won’t be the last straw for him.

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