Page 42 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)

Elyssa glances at her friend with a tiny hint of annoyance. But then her eyes find mine again.

“Who are you?” she demands. She’s trying to appear unfazed. But I hear the tremor in her voice.

“I should ask you the same thing,” I retort, looking between her and Murray. “How do you know the cop?”

“I don’t.”

“That’s tough to believe. Because it’s really fucking curious to me how every time you show up, shit’s going down with men involved in Astra Tyrannis.”

She blinks in confusion. “I don’t even know what Astro, Astra… Tyran… whatever it is you just said is.”

She’s convincingly confused. But seeing her again, like this… it’s too fucking convenient. What are the chances that the same woman who crashed my meeting with Victor Ozol would show up again when I’m closing in on a corrupt Astra Tyrannis henchman?

On the other hand, even if she is connected with Ozol somehow, she’s certainly not trained or experienced in any way. The way she’s holding the gun tells me that much. As does the fear surging in her eyes.

Murray groans at my feet, his body lurching upwards slightly.

“He’s going to come to soon,” I inform both women. “I didn’t hit him that hard.”

“Who are you?” the brunette asks, finally getting to her feet.

I scan her face, but she’s unfamiliar. In any case, her features are obscured by the beating she’s taken. The wounds are fresh. Whoever did this to her did it recently.

She notices me watching her and jerks her chin up proudly. “What do you want here?” she asks when I don’t answer her first question.

“I want this fucker,” I say, gesturing to Murray. “You two just happened to be in my way.”

My gaze moves to Elyssa. She flinches under my stare. But before she can say anything, her friend interrupts. “Okay, back to the first question: who are you?”

“You first.”

“I’m nobody,” she replies immediately.

I smirk. “So what’s the story?” I ask. I look at the brunette. “You got a boyfriend who likes to box or something?”

“Maybe I do.”

I narrow my eyes. “I’d tell the truth if I were you.”

“Why?” she demands. “Because you’re dangerous?”

I take a menacing step forward. “You tell me.”

Her irises are a bright, beautiful blue that reminds me of my Uncle Kian’s. But it’s overshadowed by the ugly bruises marring her face. She seems to be extremely protective of Elyssa, stepping in front of the girl to shield her from me.

“Why don’t you put that away before you hurt yourself?” I tell Elyssa again.

Her brown eyes spark.That’s new, I think to myself. The last time we crossed paths, she had been so completely passive, so helpless, that she’d clung to me, a complete stranger.

I can still recognize some of the same passivity in her. But there’s a little more steel now. If I had to guess, I’d say that’s probably the friend’s influence. Which isn’t a bad thing for her, insofar as staying alive in Las Vegas requires a little steel sometimes.

Just an inconvenient thing for me right now.

“I know what I’m doing,” she says. But there’s no confidence in her tone. She’s saying the words that she thinks she’s supposed to say.

“Do you?”

Doubt flickers across her eyes and she sighs. “No,” she says, letting her hands fall.

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