Page 38 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“If you want to see your son, you will learn to fall in line and do what you’re told.”

Her face falls. “I can’t believe that I ever had fe—” She stops short, just shy of the last word. Her hazel brown eyes dim with self-consciousness.

“What was that?” I inquire innocently.

“Nothing,” she mumbles quickly. “Nothing.”

I consider pressing further. But the scarlet blush on her cheeks is satisfying enough—for now.

“You have an hour to get ready for dinner,” I say. “Someone will be around to escort you to the dining room.”

“So that’s all you want?” Elyssa calls out after me as I turn and head for the exit. “You want my memories? You want information you think I can give you?”

I pause and spin on the spot to eye her warily. “Yes.”

“And there was nothing else you’re interested in?” she says. I’m vaguely aware of her hands straying up towards the hem of her robe.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

Carefully, slowly—so fucking slowly—she lifts the robe from her shoulders and lets it cascade down her arms to puddle at her feet. She’s standing square in a beam of moonlight and it hits her skin, turning it into a glowing mirage. The swell of her breasts, the flat plane of her stomach, the glistening slit of her pussy…

Fuck.

“Well, then, make me believe it,” she croons, throwing my own words back in my face.

I realize how much more difficult this is going to be now. Armed with her beauty, she was already dangerous. Add confidence and fight to the mix, and she’s downright deadly.

Now that she’s found her voice…

Now that she’s using it…

This is going to be a fucking war.

10

Elyssa

Well, what are you going to do?

I take a deep breath and fall back against the bed, taking care to avoid the dress that’s still sprawled out across the sheets.

“I don’t know…”

Gotta say, I’m proud of you. That move with the robe—fucking genius. Chef’s kiss perfection.

“It didn’t feel like me. It felt like—”

Me? Is that what you’re gonna say? What’s wrong with that?

“Nothing—except that I’m not you.”

A person can evolve.

I smile and sit up. The room is empty, of course. No one in here but me. But Charity’s voice is still clear as day in my head.

“Is this what it feels like to be haunted?”

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