Page 5 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“Exactly.”

“So I was right. They are players. But what would an organization like Astra Tyrannis want with a cult in the middle of the desert?”

“That’s what I plan to find out,” I snarl. “I’m done being careful. It’s time to declare fucking war. I’m going to rain hell down on them. Every. Last. One.”

Matvei’s expression sinks into acceptance. “Guess I better strap in.”

I give him a dark smile.

And then we gear up for war.

I’m coming for you, Elyssa,I muse to myself.You’d better have answers when I find you.

2

Elyssa

One Month Later—The Sanctuary

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. I wore this exact same outfit for a long, long time. The shapeless white linen dress that seems to glow in the desert sun. So why do I feel so uncomfortable in it now?

The jeans and t-shirt I had on when I ran from Phoenix’s mansion have been shoved into the darkest corner of my wardrobe. If I had to guess, I’d bet that Anna’s blood is still dried into the fabric.

Anna. Phoenix. Astra Tyrannis.

The names swirl around in my head, but they seem vague and unreal now. I’m back on the Sanctuary, where I belong. Those things? They’re just a bad dream that won’t go away.

I have a future here. Those things are the past.

The problem with the past, though, is that it’s never quite as done with you as you are with it.

Josiah can see it in my eyes sometimes, when I’m not doing a good job of hiding my thoughts. He knows that I’m thinking about everything I left behind.

About Charity, lying dead and cold on that miserable office floor.

About Phoenix. How dark and violent his eyes were when he told me to run.

It’s been one month since I last set eyes on him. I think about him daily. Every hour, in fact. It’s a betrayal to the man I’ve agreed to marry, but I can’t control where my mind goes.

Or my desires.

Maybe it’s a good thing I’m back in the commune. The difference in lifestyles is stark, and it makes me realize just how much discipline I’ve lost in the last year. I used to be able to keep my head down, do my work, and get on with life.

Now, I’m mired down in everything I’ve lost.

“Miss Elyssa?”

I jerk my head to the side as Zipporah steps into the room.

I’m supposed to be getting my dress fitted for the upcoming ceremony. One more chore in a month that’s been chock full of them. Day and night, I’m surrounded by a flock of women who poke and prod and congratulate me on my bright, shining future.

My mother is the proudest of the bunch. She’s hoping that my marriage will erase everything that happened before.

But I know better.

People have good memories. Especially when it comes to the shocking, the salacious. And no one holds on to scandal better than a community of zealots.

They think I don’t see how they look at me. They think I don’t hear what they whisper. I see it, though. I hear it.

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