Page 68 of Ripped Veil (Ripped Bratva)
We can’t stay here,I think to myself yet again.
But I want to. I want to so, so badly. I want to stay here with this man who can protect me, in this house filled with beautiful things, with gentle people. It’s better than the cruel world beyond the walls.
I sigh bitterly and turn to go back to the room—when my peripheral vision catches a flash of movement from one of the corner windows set alongside the French doors.
I turn, expecting to see a bird or squirrel peering within.
But instead, I see the gaunt face of a harrowed man.
We make eye contact. When he sees me, his haunted eyes grow wide. He bangs his fists against the windows so hard that I’m amazed it doesn’t shatter.
And his lips form words. I’m not sure whether he’s speaking quietly or if the glass is just thick enough to drown out the sound of his voice. Either way, it doesn’t really matter.
Because what he’s saying is unmistakable. It’s the same thought that’s been surging through my head since we arrived here.
“It’s not safe here,” the old man mouths. “Run. Run. Run!”
16
Phoenix
I hear a scream.
I hearherscream.
Despite my show of walking away, I haven’t ventured too far. As soon as I recognize the sound, I race down the hallway and into the patio room that precedes the garden veranda.
Elyssa is standing there, clutching the baby, who’s started to mewl angrily in her arms. I scan them. Both seem unharmed.
Except that Elyssa’s face is white with terror and uncertainty as she turns to me.
“What happened?” I demand, more harshly than I intend.
“I… there… there was a… man,” she stammers. “In the window.”
I frown. I know all the guards on duty. I know their schedules, too, down to the minute.
No one’s supposed to be manning this part of the house right now. The rounds are done four times per hour before each guard returns to a secure position around the compound’s inner barricade.
Which means one thing: if there’s a man at the window, he does not work for me.
“A man?” I ask. I wonder if she’s just seeing things. It certainly wouldn’t be a far-fetched assumption. The girl was clearly troubled the first time we crossed paths. God only knows what’s happened to her in the year that followed.
Or in the hours since I barged back into her life.
She nods. “He was standing right out there. He slammed his fists against the window and… he… he warned me.”
“Warned you?”
She nods. I can tell that she’s not sure if she should tell me at all. Apparently, whoever thismudakis, he’s managed to plant a seed of doubt in her head. And given how fast he’s managed to convince her, I’m willing to bet the doubt has always been there, waiting for an excuse to grow.
It bothers me more than I care to admit.
“About what?”
“About you,” she stammers. “About this place.”
She takes a step back, so I make a point to keep my distance from her. No sense in frightening the little lamb any further.
