Page 80 of Ripped Lace (Ripped Bratva)

“Stop!” I scream. I’m tired of the voice in my head, tired of seeking comfort in ghosts and dreams.

I want my son back.

I would trade the future I wished for this morning if it meant that Theo could grow as tall as Phoenix. I would trade my life. My happiness. My entire world, if it just meant my son could live to become a man.

More tears threaten to erupt. I shut the blinds, climb into bed, and bury my face in the pillows.

I want peace and quiet, but even in the relative silence, I know I won’t get it. My pain is loud. It sweeps over me like a siren’s wail. And all I can do is lie there and suffer.

An hour passes. Even when my limbs grow achy, I don’t move. Refusing to change position. Refusing to chase comfort. If my son is in pain, why shouldn’t I be in pain, too?

It’s only when I hear the lock turn again that I lift my head.

Phoenix steps inside and shuts the door behind him. He pauses at the foot of the bed. I wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t.

“Are you going to get my son back?” I demand.

He nods. “That’s the plan.”

I scowl. “You and your plans. They’re not doing much good, are they?”

It’s a low blow. Cruel and unnecessary. But Phoenix doesn’t take the bait. He just stands there, hands clasped behind his back, surveying me somberly.

“Where were you this whole time?” I ask when he still doesn’t speak.

“I was trying to settle things,” he says. “I just finished a meeting with my lieutenants.”

“A meeting?” I repeat incredulously. “Ameeting?”

“Yes. A meeting.”

“You should have followed them,” I snap. “You could have gotten Theo back before he was taken off the compound.”

His jaw tightens.

“He would have been killed if we’d tried to follow them,” Phoenix points out. “I wasn’t willing to risk it.”

“He’s a baby,” I say, struggling for breath. “He was terrified. He’s not going to know what’s going on. He needs me. He needs his mother.”

“Elyssa…”

“He’s not with anyone he knows. Not even Leona—” I stop short when I blurt out her name.

One moment, Leona had been standing in front of Theo and me in the gardens like a warrior princess. Hair flowing in the wind, gun raised, pure violence in her every motion.

The next moment, she had crumpled to the ground like a bird shot from the sky.

“Leona…?” I whisper again. It’s a question this time.

“Dead,” Phoenix says. He doesn’t soften the brutal edge of his words or ease me into the revelation. He looks tired. But there’s something simmering just beneath his carefully orchestrated expression.

“W… what?”

“The bullet punctured her heart. She bled out within minutes.”

I look down, lip wobbling. She died for me. For Theo.

“You don’t have to feel guilty,” Phoenix tells me gruffly. “She knew the risks of this kind of life. She signed up for it.”

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