Chapter seventeen

Raven

I spend half the day in the indoor garden, gazing at the flowers while the same thoughts about the confrontation I had with Ezra last night run through my mind.

Ezra was right, his life is none of my business, and I shouldn’t meddle. But that doesn’t mean I’m not hurt.

The words strike my chest over and over each time I remember. I was stupid…ignorant… a fool… a–

My stomach growls loudly, reminding me that I’ve had nothing to eat since last night, but I can't find the motivation to do so. I get up from the pedestal I’m sitting on and move closer to the flower beds before squatting.

“I hear you haven’t eaten all day,” I hear Ezra say behind me, his voice calm but serious.

I glance up, trying not to let my eyes linger, but it’s impossible to ignore how incredible he looks in that suit. The dark fabric clings perfectly to his broad shoulders and tapers down his lean torso, highlighting every inch of his well-built frame. The suit is expertly tailored, hugging him in all the right places, and the fine material stretches across his chest as if it were made just for him.

His shirt collar peeks just above the jacket, crisp and white, a sharp contrast against his olive skin.

Even the way his tie hangs, slightly loosened and revealing a glimpse of ink, adds to the alluring aura the don carries. Despite the fight, I can’t help but think how attractive he is.

His brows are slightly furrowed, his lips tight. I blink, surprised, and catch something I didn’t expect to see for a brief moment—nerves.

Clearing my throat, I exhale shakily and rise to my feet. My gaze drops to the floor, fingers fidgeting.

“I'm sorry.” We say it at the same time, and I blink, startled. I must’ve misheard. “What?” I whisper.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you yesterday.” His voice softens, his gaze locking onto mine. “I said some harsh things,” he adds, eyes searching mine.

My lips part, but no words come out. Ezra, apologizing... to me. I break the intensity with a small cough, looking away.

Now, it's your turn, Raven.“And I'm sorry for prying,” I manage, my voice finding its way back.

The air hangs heavy between us, the distant chirp of birds the only sound that fills the silence.

After a long pause, he clears his throat.

“Come with me,” he says, slightly more composed. “I want to show you something.”

I hesitate for a moment before following him. As we leave the garden, the air grows cooler, and there is a noticeable shift as we walk through the house toward his study. Once inside, Ezra remains silent.

He moves to a cabinet in the corner, his steps slower than usual, as if pondering his next actions. When he turns around, he's holding the fancy box from earlier. He must’ve moved it.

Without a word, he sets it down on the desk in front of me.

I lean forward to watch him open the box and take out a frame hidden underneath. The photo is aged, with faded edges, yet I can still clearly see the woman and little girl from the locket. Their smiles are accompanied by joyful glints in their eyes.

“That’s my wife…” he begins, clearing his throat, “...and my daughter.” I notice how his voice seems to break at the mention of his daughter.

“I came home one night, and…” he hesitates. The painful glint in his eyes tells me that it’s indeed a painful memory for him. I suddenly hate myself for letting him relive it.

“You can stop if you wa–”

He interrupts me with a small shake of his head, his fist tightening as he glances away. “…and they were both dead.”

My eyes widen instinctively, and I look up at him, feeling a strange ache in my chest. I wouldn’t know what to do if I suddenly came home and found my loved ones dead…

“My daughter was holding this.” He taps the photo, where the little girl clutches a teddy bear in her small hands. “A teddy bear covered in her blood.”

The scene in my mind leaves me lightheaded—the small girl, still holding tightly to her cherished toy, crimson liquid oozing from a cut somewhere on her body.