Page 111 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“Aurora,” I whisper. It’s her. I know it.

My eyes slide down the photograph, to the bundle of blankets in her arms. A baby, swaddled but alert.

“Yuri.” He looks around the same age as Theo is now.

My heart constricts as I stare down at the two of them. They’re framed by greenery, wherever and whenever this was taken. Yuri smolders like his father, gruff despite his young age. But Aurora is glowing with happiness.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper to them, though I’m not quite sure what I’m saying sorry for.

Reverently, I put the wallet back where I found it, lay the t-shirt back on top, and move onto another drawer. I pick out a black t-shirt from there and shrug it on over the boxer shorts.

I’m still working my arms through the sleeves as I scurry out the door, so I’m not looking where I’m going…

And I promptly run into a wall of human.

“Oof!”

My hair has fallen over my eyes, so I can’t see who it is. But I don’t have to see to know. I’d recognize his scent anywhere.

“Good morning to you, too,” I grumble when Phoenix says nothing. I comb the bangs out of my face.

Phoenix’s eyes trail up and down the length of my body. I can only stand there, twisting the hem of the t-shirt in my hands like a kid caught out in an act of rebellion.

“You look comfortable,” he says with a small smirk.

I roll my eyes. “I couldn’t wear my dress. Someone I know ripped it to pieces.”

His smirk only gets more pronounced. “You’re lucky there’s any fabric left.”

That elicits a blush I couldn’t hold back if my life depended on it. He reaches out and runs the back of his hand across my cheek.

I try not to let the gesture go to my head. We’re suspended together. Caught in a fragment of a moment, dangling over the edge. So we’re just comforting each other through it. That’s all this is. It doesn’t necessarily mean we have a definitive future. Even if there’s love somewhere between us, who knows if it will last? Everything hinges on the next few days.

But I can still feel the ghost of his touch, long after he’s withdrawn it.

“I was just heading back to my room,” I say.

“Why?”

“Uh…” I say, looking down at my clothes. “Because I need to change.”

“You look perfect like this.”

“These are your clothes,” I point out with a laugh. “And I’m drowning in them.”

He shrugs. “I think it suits you.” Then he walks past me and grabs my arm as he goes.

“Hey! Where are we going?” I balk as he tows me along.

“I have a meeting set up with my lieutenants,” he explains. “I assumed you’d want to be there.”

“Phoenix, I can’t go like this!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m not dressed.”

“That t-shirt practically comes down to your knees.”

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