Page 111 of The Ripper

I tied my hair in a low ponytail so that the puncture mark was visible, along with the love bites Grimm left all over my neck. The marks of the Russian gangster, as my brother called him, on his precious little girl. That ought to stir some reaction from him.

The knife was strapped to my right thigh, visible through the high slit of the satin dress that clung perfectly to my body, revealing my shoulders and the stars many Bratva members had tattooed.

I drew them with eyeliner, but they sent a clear message.

I kneel to no one.

That’s what they meant.

While I knew the stars would anger my father and probably most of his associates, I didn’t care.

I belonged to Grimm.

I belonged next to the Russian man, and everyone was going to find out just how far this apple had fallen from the tree.

After applying a coat of blood-red lipstick, I confidently walked out of the room.

Arella took a seat in the back of my mind, because she had no place in this house. She had to return to him untouched, carrying the same warmth he said she was full of.

Leaning over the banister of the double staircase, I lit a cigarette and took in the sight of the people in the room below me.

Classical music played as I blew out the smoke and analyzed the faces that had once been my family, who were now no more than mere strangers to me.

My father stood at the entrance, politely greeting his guests, dressed in a perfectly ironed all-black suit, his salt and pepper hair elegantly slicked back.

I thought seeing him again would anger me even more, but I felt nothing but indifference towards the man who had once been the light of my life. I rolled my eyes when I saw him lean down to kiss a brunette’s hand and almost gagged when he grabbed her waist and pulled her to his side.

I stubbed out the cigarette in the planter next to me, then began to slowly descend the stairs, avoiding looking directly at everyone in the room. I could feel every pair of eyes turning to me as my heels clicked against the marble.

Head held high, spine straight, defiance in my eyes.

After the last step, I glared at him for just a second, only to see how irritated he was by my attitude.

I didn’t smile, I didn’t smirk.

I didn’t allow him to see any emotion on my face other than absolute disinterest.

“Reina,” I heard one of the two voices that could soften the steel shell I put on.

Hearing him call me by my birth name didn’t have the effect I thought it would. I thought it would break me because it was her name too, but it made me feel stronger, and I needed that strength like I needed air, because I couldn’t be Arella here.

They didn’t have the right to know her.

I couldn’t be the person I worked so hard to become, who was the gentlest side of me, the real one. No. Here, I had to be the menace I was in the months before I left, and I was about to rain chaos down all of them.

“Abuelito[16],” I turned to him and gave him the first, but only genuine smile of the evening.

He wasted no time and pulled me into his arms, hugging me so tight that it seemed he was afraid that I was about to disappear. When he stepped away from me, he took my hands in his and shook his head, almost as if he couldn’t believe I was actually here.

I didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered over my neck and shoulders, over the bites and the stars.

“You sure know how to make an entrance, my dear,” he grinned, seemingly… proud?

“I have learned from the best,” I winked at him as I took a glass of champagne from the tray when a waiter stopped next to us and offered it.

My grandfather took one too, then clinked his glass to mine.

“To you, my dear.”

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