Chapter 34 Raven
RAVEN
My body aches pleasantly as I shift against Gio.
Four days of being thoroughly claimed by this man have left their marks on me, both visible and invisible.
The bruises from my kidnapping are fading to yellowish-green smudges, but they've been joined by fresh ones—fingerprints on my hips, a small love bite on my neck and shoulders.
Over these last few days, I've learned that I like one of his tattoos the most. It's the Bonventi family crest, he told me, and I always seem to trace it with my fingertips while resting my head on his chest, just like I'm doing now. I think I like the way it curves over his pec muscles.
I've never really been a fan of tattoos, not that I had anything against them, really, but sometimes, when we're making love, I find myself getting lost in them, tracing them with my tongue, at least until he growls and flips me over.
"What are you thinking about?" His voice, rough with sleep, startles me. His eyes remain closed, but he smiles.
"Shit, you scared me," I say giggling. "How did you know I was awake?"
He cracks one eye open. "You were doing that tracing thing again."
I rest my chin on his chest. "Well, just admiring the view."
His hand slides up my bare back, along my spine in a way that sends little shivers through me. Even after everything we've done, my body responds instantly to his touch.
My stomach grumbles loudly, and Gio raises an eyebrow.
"Hungry, are we? Did you get enough dinner?"
"Maybe. I guess," I say with a smile, "you have been working me pretty hard." I sit up, letting the sheet fall away to reveal my bare breasts. His eyes darken predictably. "Besides, I think I worked up an appetite with that last round."
He reaches up to cup my breast, his thumb brushing over my nipple. "We could order more food."
"No," I say firmly, placing my hand over his. "You promised me we could go out tomorrow. I need fresh air, Gio. As much as I've enjoyed being your prisoner—"
"Not my prisoner," he interrupts, his voice suddenly hard. "Never that."
I soften. "Your willing companion, then. But seriously, I need to get out of here. See the sun. Walk on actual pavement. I'm good. Even the doctor you had come said so."
"Fine." He sits up, bringing our faces level. "But my men will be with us the entire time. And you don't leave my sight. Not for a second."
I roll my eyes and give him a mock salute, "Yes, sir."
I lean forward and kiss him softly. "Thank you for protecting me."
He lays back down, and I take the opportunity to climb out of bed. I can feel his eyes on me as I walk naked to the kitchen. The tile is cold against my bare feet, and I regret not grabbing a shirt or something to cover me.
"Where are you going?" he calls after me.
"To get water. Want some?"
"No."
I pour myself a glass and lean against the counter. I'm more thirsty than I realize.
It's crazy to think four days ago, I was terrified, certain I was going to die in the trunk of that car. Now, I'm standing naked in my apartment with a man who's done so much for me, all without hesitation.
I place the glass in the sink and turn to find Gio standing there, having pulled on his boxers. His eyes rake over me, and I see the desire flare again.
"Come back to bed," he says, his voice low and commanding.
"Okay, Bossy," I murmur, as I walk toward him.
He pulls me against him, his hands sliding down to cup my ass. "You like it when I'm bossy." His lips find my neck, and I tilt my head to give him better access.
"Maybe," I breathe, my hands exploring the hard planes of his six-pack.
He lifts me suddenly, and I wrap my legs around his waist as he carries me back to the bedroom. My back hits the mattress, and he curls up next to me, holding me close. My protector.
As I try my best to fight off sleep, I just relish this moment, but I'm too tired. As I drift off, I feel so happy. So loved. So content. For the first time, life seems perfect.
A harsh ringing pierces through my sleep like a knife. My heart slams against my chest before my eyes can even open.
"What the—" Gio jerks upright beside me, instantly alert and reaching for his gun.
The persistent, ear-splitting alarm continues as I blink away sleep. Red emergency lights flash through the windows, casting an eerie, pulsating glow across Gio's tense face.
"FIRE! FIRE!" We hear people shouting from the hallway.
My blood turns to ice. "The gallery."
Gio's already moving, grabbing clothes from the floor. "Get dressed. Now."
I scramble out of bed, my legs tangling in the sheets. Panic claws at me as I yank on the first clothes I find—a pair of leggings and a white t-shirt I wore yesterday.
"Raven, hurry!" Gio's already dressed in jeans, a black shirt, and boots, with his gun in hand. The sight would be jarring if I hadn't grown so accustomed to his constant state of readiness.
My hands shake as I shove my feet into sneakers without socks. We run toward the front door, and I see it - smoke seeping under the door like a poisonous snake.
Gio presses his palm against the door before opening it. He pulls back briefly, cursing under his breath. "Stay low, behind me. Cover your mouth. We'll head to the stairs."
When he swings the door open, a wall of thick smoke rolls in. The hallway is barely visible through the haze, illuminated only by intermittent flashes of emergency lights.
I pull the neck of my shirt over my mouth and nose, crouching low as we step into the corridor. My eyes instantly burn and become watery. Gio reaches back and grabs my hand, pulling me.
"OVER HERE!" The voice sounds distant over the alarms.
Gio leads me toward the stairwell. We can't see more than a few feet ahead. My lungs already ache from the effort of trying not to breathe in too deeply.
The stairwell door feels hot when Gio pushes it open, and the smoke is even thicker inside. We start descending, my free hand trailing along the wall for balance as we hurry down.
"Careful," Gio warns, his voice muffled. "Stay close."
As we descend the stairs, I can hear the chaos below. Shouting, sirens, the crackling roar of flames consuming whatever is burning.
When we reach the bottom, Gio pushes the door open, and hell greets us.
The gallery—my gallery, my mother's legacy—is engulfed in flames.
Fire dances across the walls where paintings once hung, consuming frames and canvases with an endless hunger.
The central display cases have collapsed, their glass shattered across the floor, reflecting the inferno like demonic mirrors.
"This way!" a firefighter shouts, waving us away from the building frantically.
"Go, go!" Gio shoves me forward, hand firm against my lower back.
The cool night air feels like salvation against my smoke-ravaged lungs. I cough violently as Gio drags me further from the building, away from the firefighters battling the blaze.
From the relative safety of the sidewalk across the street, I finally look up.
The entire building is consumed now, flames shooting from windows on multiple floors.
Fire trucks line the street, their red and blue lights lighting up the surrounding buildings.
People in various states of undress huddle together—my neighbors, other business owners.
"My gallery, Gio. Oh my god," I say, as I start to cry. "Everything... it's all gone."
Gio pulls me against his chest, his arms encircling me protectively as we watch the firefighters work. I can feel his heart hammering through his shirt, his body still tense with adrenaline.
"Gio, I can't believe this. My mother's legacy," I say through tears. "This can't be happening. Oh shit, I'm going to be sick."
Gio grips me on the shoulders firmly.
"Hey, look at me. Raven, look at me."
It takes me a second to shift my vision from my burning gallery to his eyes, but I do.
"You are okay. You are your mother's legacy. Not that building. You."
I completely lose it, and tears flow as Gio pulls me in again to hug me. I rub my Raven tattoo as I sob, thinking about my mom, what Gio just said, and the fact that it was probably the best thing anyone could ever say to me.
And then, everything that's been going on shocks my thoughts.
"Gio, do you think it was them?" I ask.
"I don't know yet," he says, voice low and dangerous. "But I'm going to find out."
I turn to stare at the flames devouring my past, my future, everything my mom worked for, and something inside me hardens as I watch the destruction unfold.
"Whoever did this," I say, my voice firm, "I want them to pay."
Gio's arms tighten around me. "They will, Raven. I promise you that."