Ripped Lace: A Russian Mafia Romance (Ripped Bratva Book 2)
Ripped Lace
A Mafia Romance
Nicole Fox
Copyright © 2021 by Nicole Fox
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No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Contents
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Ripped Lace
1. Phoenix
2. Elyssa
3. Elyssa
4. Elyssa
5. Phoenix
6. Phoenix
7. Elyssa
8. Elyssa
9. Phoenix
10. Elyssa
11. Elyssa
12. Phoenix
13. Elyssa
14. Phoenix
15. Elyssa
16. Elyssa
17. Phoenix
18. Elyssa
19. Phoenix
20. Elyssa
21. Phoenix
22. Elyssa
23. Elyssa
24. Phoenix
25. Phoenix
26. Elyssa
27. Phoenix
28. Elyssa
29. Phoenix
30. Elyssa
31. Phoenix
32. Elyssa
33. Phoenix
34. Elyssa
35. Phoenix
36. Elyssa
37. Phoenix
38. Elyssa
39. Phoenix
40. Elyssa
41. Phoenix
42. Elyssa
43. Elyssa
44. Phoenix
Epilogue: Phoenix
Extended Epilogue
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Ripped Lace
Book Two of the Ripped Duet
I fled from the don and retreated into my past.
But I should’ve known Phoenix would never truly let me go.
On the day of my wedding—the day everything was supposed to be made right again—he shows up with revenge in his heart.
And makes me his again, right on the altar.
But what I don’t tell him is this:
I’ve started to recall things. Things I was better off forgetting.
And by the time I’m done remembering…
Everything he loves might be destroyed.
RIPPED LACE is a secret baby, arranged marriage romantic suspense novel. It is Book Two of the Ripped Duet. Phoenix and Elyssa’s story begins in Book One, RIPPED VEIL (so make sure you’ve read that before starting this one)!
Phoenix
Phoenix’s Office—The Kovalyov Mansion
“It looks like a fucking slaughterhouse in here,” Matvei says as he walks into my office.
He takes in Charity’s body with a glance and a grimace before turning his attention to the second corpse in the room. His sharp eyes pass over the blood soaking into the Turkish carpet.
When they land on Ann’s twisted face, they stay there. Searching for reason where there isn’t any.
“I had to see it with my own eyes to believe it,” he murmurs. “Even now, I’m not sure I do.”
“I’ve been staring at her for the last ten minutes,” I laugh bitterly. “Still hasn’t sunk in.”
“How long did she live in this house?” Matvei asks.
“Six years,” I reply. “No, longer.”
“Fuck.”
I get to my feet as the cleanup crew swarms in. Half a dozen Bratva men in masks, gloves, and full-body suits, working silently and efficiently. They take Charity’s body first.
“You gonna tell me what happened?” Matvei asks, his eyes careening to mine at last.
“Where should I start?” I growl. “I was on my way here to get the truth out of Elyssa. Noticed the door to my office was open. I come in and find Charity’s body.”
“And Anna?”
“She walked in a few seconds later. With a gun pointed right at me.”
“Fuck,” Matvei says again. “Six years of watching. Six years of waiting. What a fucking trip.”
“It explains everything,” I say. “She was always there. Anticipating our attacks, our moves, and reporting back to the fucking ‘powers that be.’”
“The ‘powers that be’?” he snorts.
“That’s what they call themselves. The men who run Astra Tyrannis.”
Matvei shakes his head. “Why am I not surprised?”
I suck in a heavy breath as the pain of the last hour’s revelations takes its toll on my mind. But I don’t want to put the final detail off any longer.
“She was the one who killed Yuri,” I say in a low croak. “Aurora, too.”
Matvei’s expression stills. His eyes flatten with darkness and he looks furious. “What?”
“It was retaliation for Primm. It was her all along.”
“Did she say anything about Yuri’s body?” Matvei asks immediately.
“She claims he’s buried somewhere on the property.”
“This property?” Matvei balks. “And you believe her?”
“I have no reason not to,” I reply. “Why would she lie?”
“She wouldn’t have needed a reason,” Matvei snaps. “It’s clear she was a fucking psychopath from day one. She could have been lying.”
“It’s possible,” I concede.
“What else was a lie? What about her backstory?”
“Fake. No sex trafficking, no getting sold to Gibraltar. She was recruited by Astra Tyrannis when she was a teenager. They snatched her out of an orphanage in France and trained her as an assassin.”
“Jesus.”
“Once she got too old for heavy action, they made her a spy. She was planted in Gibraltar’s home the night we were about to storm it.”
Matvei’s brows wrinkle as he pieces the puzzle together. “Wait…”
“They wanted us to attack his house that night,” I confirm before Matvei can ask the question. “That’s why it was so fucking easy to get evidence on his work for Astra Tyrannis.”
“They planned everything.” He whistles, impressed. “Well, fuck me.”
I slump onto the couch. “Do you remember that night? We walked in to see Anna standing over Gibraltar’s dead body. She gave me her sob story. And like a fucking idiot, I bought every goddamn word of it.”
Matvei clasps a heavy hand on my shoulder. “How were you to know?”
“I should have known,” I snap. “I should have been smarter.”
“You couldn’t have predicted their end game.”
“They predicted mine,” I respond. “They knew exactly how to get into my house. They knew exactly who to plant and how. They knew how to manipulate me.”
“Phoenix—”
“Don’t,” I snap before he can finish his thought. I know he’s trying to absolve me of the blame. But I’m si
ck of it.
I need the guilt now. I thrive off it. It’s what is going to light the fire that will eventually burn down that whole fucking machine, along with every last motherfucker who works in it, who revels in it, who profits off of it.
The cleanup crew returns and starts to flock around Anna’s corpse. I watch them move her around and wonder how I never noticed. Were there signs? If so, I can’t recall a single one. In six years, she’d never let the façade slip. Not one fucking time.
“The limp was a lie, too,” I say, mostly to myself.
“You know what this means,” Matvei says. “How old is she? Fifties? Sixties? Tyrannis probably has hundreds just like her in important places.”
I nod. “I know.”
“Assassins and spies you never suspect, never see coming.” Matvei shakes his head in amazement. “It’s fucking genius.”
I agree. Which is what stings even more.
“So… Charity?” Matvei asks, turning to me. “Was she—”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “She was dead when I got here. I don’t know what went down before I arrived. I don’t know if they were working together and something went south, if it was personal and unrelated, or if Charity found out something about Anna she was not supposed to know. That’s what Elyssa claims, anyway.”
Matvei’s eyes hit the ceiling. “Elyssa is here?” he exclaims, looking around as though expecting to see her hiding in the corner somewhere. “Where is she?”
“No,” I say curtly. “Gone.”
“Gone?”
“She’s responsible for the bullet in Anna’s arm,” I explain. “The old bitch had me at gunpoint. She was about to pull the trigger when Elyssa walked in and shot her. Which allowed me to get the upper hand and finish her off.”
“Elyssa saved you?” Matvei asks, sounding stunned.
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand,” Matvei says. “Why isn’t she here then?”
“Because I told her to get out.”
He hesitates for a second. “She could still be an agent for Astra Tyrannis.”
“We’ll find out soon enough.”
Matvei cocks his head to the side. “Wait… did you do something?”
“I had Ilya plant a tracker on her car,” I say. “I’m going to be tracking her movements.”
Matvei nods approvingly. “And if she is involved with Astra Tyrannis?”
“Then I’ll take her out.”
“And if she has nothing to do with them?”
It’s an equally important question and Matvei knows it. He waits for my answer while I mull it over.
“Then I’ll turn my back on her forever,” I say icily in the end. “Either way, our paths diverge soon.”
“She has your son, Phoenix.”
My head throbs. I’m itching for a drink. Desperate for it, in fact. I’m usually good at abstaining. But today, it’s hard to distract myself from the raw, aching need that’s building in my chest.
“The boy may not be mine.”
“Excuse me? Say that one more time.”
I run a hand through my hair. “She told me what happened the night she arrived in Vegas. The night the two of us met at Wild Night Blossom.”
I can see Matvei bracing himself. Again, I’m not keen on telling the story, but I also want to get it over with. I don’t want it to have any power over me.
“The Sanctuary, the commune, whatever the fuck she calls it—it’s a fucking cult. She was going to be married off to the leader. The fucker had her get all dressed up and delivered to his doorstep. Then he raped her. So she hit him over the head with a cast-iron paperweight in the shape of a black swan. Which is, incidentally, what she was sent this morning.”
“They sent her the murder weapon?” he says in amazement.
“Blood and all.”
“Christ. That’s some next-level mind fuckery. What does it mean? Is it a threat?”
“Possibly. I don’t know at this point. It was enough to get her to go back there.”
“But she came back?”
I nod. “She claims she came back because Charity left a note hinting that Anna was dangerous. Said she came back to warn me.”
Matvei looks skeptical. But I can see that he’s considering this might actually be the true version of events.
“Given that she was raped only hours before I fucked her…” I trail off, leaving the rest unsaid.
“She doesn’t know who the father is, either,” Matvei finishes. He whistles again. “Blyat’. That’s a lot of information to unpack in one night. So the leader of this cult, the one she hit with the swan paperweight… she killed him?”
I sigh and slump back against my seat. “She thought she did. But when she went back, apparently, he was there. Alive and well.”
“So he’s the one who sent her the paperweight?”
“Why does it matter?” I ask.
“Because he could be important. A player.”
“A player?” I repeat. “What makes you think that?”
“If not a player, then at the very least, he’s a tool. And I think that because of how little there is regarding this ‘Sanctuary.’”
I frown. “I’m not following.”
“I did more research after you left. It’s not just that there isn’t much information out there. There isn’t anything. It feels like everything about these crazy assholes has been buried deep enough to never see the light of day. Whoever the fuck they are, they’re keeping stuff close to the chest.”
Close to the chest. The phrase sticks in my head for some reason. It’s like there’s a word on the tip of my tongue, trying to get out, but I just can’t place it.
I glance back at Anna’s body through the mess of limbs as the cleanup crew prepare her to be moved. Her throat is a jagged slice of drying blood. Her clothes are ripped and bedraggled from our fight and from Elyssa’s shot. The collar of her blouse is pulled away, too, revealing a slice of wrinkled collarbone…
The cleanup crew gets ready to hoist her onto the waiting trolley.
“Wait!” I raise my hand.
Everyone stops short. They look up at me, masked and goggled, listening for further instructions.
“Leave her. I’ll call you in when I’m ready.”
The men nod in deference and back out of the room at once, leaving Matvei and me alone with Anna’s body.
Moving in a daze, I step forward to examine her. A weaker man might’ve retched at all the blood. The human body is such a disgustingly fragile thing.
But I’ve been immune to the gore since the day I found Aurora.
I grab a cloth left behind by the crew and dab at the spot on her collarbone I noticed. They’re keeping stuff close to the chest…
Dried blood comes away, little by little by little…
Until I see a tattoo.
It’s blurred. Old ink—doing the math, I’d guess that it’s been fifty-plus years since Astra Tyrannis marked this on her.
But the shape is unmistakable.
“Fucking hell,” I growl. I recoil in shock.
“What?” Matvei asks, leaping over to look along with me.
“See that?” I ask, pointing to the gracefully arched neck.
“Is it a bird?”
“Yes,” I rasp. “It’s a swan.”