Page 186 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

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Elyssa

“What’s that?” Charity asks, eyeing the box in my hands as I walk into the bedroom.

My first instinct is to get rid of it so that I never have to lay eyes on it again. But I know that won’t change the fact that someone from the Sanctuary knows I’m here. Someone who wants me to know that they can find me whenever they want.

“It’s… a long story.”

Charity narrows her eyes. “Spill.”

I ignore her and instead walk to the bed, where Theo’s lying on his back. He’s only just started learning to roll over and it takes everything in my power to resist the urge to help when I see him struggling. He gurgles at me, and I set the box aside and pepper him with kisses.

It makes me feel just a little bit better. But the panic lingers just a hair’s breadth from the surface.

“Elyssa?”

I exhale violently and meet her eyes. “Someone sent that to me earlier today,” I explain.

“With a love note?” she teases.

I shake my head. “There was no need. I know who sent it.”

“Oh God,” Charity mumbles, reading my face. “It’s not a decapitated head, is it?”

I give her a weary glance. “I probably would’ve reacted a little more dramatically if that was the case, Char.”

“You’re not really a screamer,” she points out. “You just go quiet and pale—which, coincidentally, is what’s happening right now.”

“They found me,” I blurt out.

She wrinkles her nose. “Who did?”

“My… family. My home.”

Charity knows bits and pieces of my past. She knows that I lived in a secluded little community that believed some things not many other people saw eye-to-eye on. She knows that it was tight-knit, heavily controlled.

She knows that I ran away from a man and a marriage and left a fire in my wake. She knows I don’t remember much.

But she’s never pressed me for details, and I’ve never been keen on sharing them.

Especially one tiny detail—the body I’d left behind. The body of the man who was supposed to be my husband.

“Fuck,” she says, her eyes widening. “Well, it’s not so bad.”

“Not so bad?” I repeat incredulously. “How on earth do you figure that?”

“I mean, maybe your parents just want to… reconnect. Make amends. That sorta thing.”

I realize that she doesn’t know what’s in the package they sent me. And she certainly doesn’t know what it signifies.

She notices the direction of my gaze and she looks curiously at the package. “What’s in it, by the way?”

“It’s a cast iron paperweight,” I explain, knowing I can’t hide the truth anymore. “In the shape of a swan.”

“Weird. Is it expensive?”

“It’s not a peace offering, Charity. It’s… a message. They’re telling me they know what I did.”

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