Page 156 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“That’s right,” Ozol says with a nod. “I did promise you that.”

I’m the only one who notices more men creeping out of the shadows as Eiko and Viktor bicker.

And by the time they’ve fired their deadly barrage, I’m the only one left standing who doesn’t work for Viktor.

Silence fills the room again as every single member of the Yakuza crumples dead to the ground.

Eiko is sprawled at Ozol’s feet, blood sluicing out from a dozen different bullet wounds.

Viktor looks at me and smiles. “Like I said: I always win in the end.”

38

Elyssa

The Cells Beneath Wild Night Blossom

“What did you say your name was?” I ask again.

“Yuri,” the boy repeats in a voice that sounds much older than he looks.

“Where are your parents?” I don’t know why I’m asking this. It’s a sick question. But something tells me there are answers in this little boy’s head. Answers to five years’ worth of mysteries.

“They didn’t want me,” he says with the air of a kid repeating what he’s been told to say. “So they sent me here. Master Viktor keeps me safe. He protects me.”

I shudder inside, horrified at what’s been done to this sweet, innocent child. And in looking at Yuri, I see the life that awaits my own son.

My insides are clamoring to come out. I want to scream, to cry, to tear this horrible place down brick by brick with my bare hands.

But I have to be strong.

Not just for Theo—but also for the tiny boy standing in front of me. The first son of the man that I love.

“Yuri, my name is Elyssa,” I tell him tenderly. “And I knew... Iknowyour father.”

The words don’t make any impact at all—at first. Then he raises his eyes to mine. They’re dark, just like his dad’s.

“My… father?”

I nod.

He shuffles on his feet. The chains clank. I cringe looking at the collar around his neck. What kind of monster could do this to an innocent child?

“Yuri, please listen to me. I know you don’t know me. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but…”

He’s starting to back away, receding back down the corridor. His chains drag over the concrete floor with a hair-raising scraping noise.

“Yuri, wait! I know your father, and he loves you, and he wants you—”

He blinks as the words die on my lips. I’m not even sure that what I’m saying is registering. His eyes glaze over and he retreats within himself.

“I… I have to go,” he mutters. “I have to give the others water. It’s my job.”

“No!” I cry out, sliding my hand through the gaps between the bars to grab the front of his filthy shirt. “Please, Yuri, just listen to me…”

He doesn’t react at all, even when I realize how violently I’ve snatched him towards me, how crazy I must look, how threatening.

And it’s because he’s used to this. He’s used to being touched without permission. He’s used to being mistreated and abused.

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