Page 220 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

“Isn’t it?” She smirks. “That’s why I’m the best.”

There’s real pride in her voice. And it strikes me that she’s been waiting a long time to have this conversation with me. She must have hated playing the part of the aging housekeeper, the tottering old woman who’d been put out to pasture.

She must have hated the way people looked at her. The way they spoke to her.

“I proved my worth to the powers that be,” she continues, “time and time again. When I retire, I will live like a queen.”

“But you’d be bored.”

She shrugs. “I’ll make my own fun.”

“I have no doubt.”

“I understand why you’re stalling,” she says. “But it won’t stop the inevitable.”

“I’m not afraid of death.”

She eyes me carefully, then nods. “I believe you. Shame, really. You would have done well in the organization.”

I scowl and spit at her feet. “I’ll take that bullet now.”

She laughs. Shrugs. Takes aim.

But the gunshot seems to come prematurely. Like time broke for one bizarre instant.

Except that I don’t feel a thing.

And then…

Anna screams. Her arm buckles and I realize that blood is blossoming on her chest, more and more with every passing second, like a rose blooming in fast forward.

She stares at me, her eyes wide with shock. A dribble of blood spills from her lips. “H-h-how…?”

I don’t have the answer.

Until I turn and see Elyssa step into the room.

“I… I came back,” she gasps when her eyes meet mine.

Her cheeks are wet with tears but she keeps her gun raised.

“You… little wh-whore…!” Anna wheezes.

She lunches forward, ignoring the blood still spreading across her chest. Startled, Elyssa screams and rears back. She fires again, but her panic makes her shoot blindly. The bullet whizzes past Anna and destroys the window behind us, shattering it in a hail of glass. Tiny shards pepper my face and draw blood.

Anna stumbles into Elyssa and the two women tumble to the ground in a mess of blood and hair and flailing limbs.

Elyssa is panicking, her arms flailing wildly as Anna tries to claw at her face. I swallow past my shock, stride forward, and yank the old bitch up by the roots of her hair.

She groans in my grasp as I twist her towards me. I want to look her in the eyes for this last part.

Her expression is bleak. Mute. Accepting. She knows she’s halfway to death.

And I’m about to help her cross the final distance.

“Did you enjoy it?” I snarl. “Killing them?”

Blood gushes from her mouth from somewhere deep within but she still manages to speak. “I… followed orders.”

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