Cruel Promise (Oryolov Bratva, #2)

by Nicole Fox

From the colorful scribblings, I’d wager this is Reagan’s handywork. She’s all about rainbows and unicorns these days. A typical five-year-old. In a very atypical setting. Forget the handwoven Persian rug that lines the passageway; forget the bold Tuscan paintings on the walls—this is a work of art.

I know that’s not what I asked him for. I asked him for space and that’s what he’s giving me. But isn’t he smart enough to know the difference between what I say and what I want? Honestly. Men.

I’d expected him to show up here every day demanding to be let up, vowing to win us back come hell or high water. I’d expected him to show up at the school just so that he could see the kids. I’d expected him to call me every night whether or not I answered. He’ll fight for himself and for his Bratva. Why won’t he fight for us? Honestly. Men.