Page 28 of The Bonventi War
The banging doesn't stop. Confused and annoyed, I stumble out of bed, nearly tripping over my own feet as I make my way to the door.
"Hold on," I yell as I walk down the hallway. "Christ."
I yank the door open, ready to tear into whoever's banging on my door.
Gio stands there, filling the doorframe. The sight of him sends a fresh wave of heat through me, memories of the dream making my cheeks flush. His cologne—that same fucking cologne from my dream—hits me, and my chest tightens.
"What the hell is going on?" I snap, trying to cover my reaction with anger. "It's the middle of the night."
Gio's eyes sweep over me, taking in my disheveled appearance. I suddenly become very aware that I'm only wearing an oversized t-shirt and panties. His gaze lingers for a moment before snapping back to my face.
"We found your dad," he says, his voice low and urgent. "Come with me."
My stomach drops. "What? Where? Is he okay?"
"Now, Raven," Gio insists, already turning to leave. "Get dressed."
I hesitate for a split second before rushing back inside to throw on some clothes. They found my dad. After all this time, all the worry and uncertainty, they found him. But Gio's grim expression tells me this isn't going to be a happy reunion.
In less than two minutes, I'm following Gio down to his car.
As we settle into the back seat of his Rolls-Royce, I turn to him, questions burning on my tongue. But he's already on his phone, calling out orders. I catch a few words—"warehouse," "secure," "on our way"—but not enough to piece together what's happening.
"Are you going to tell me what happened? How you found him?"
He glances at me. "We'll be there soon. You can speak to him yourself."
The rest of the car ride is silent. Gio hangs up and starts texting rapidly. I lean back in my seat, trying to calm my mind.
As I steal a few glances at Gio, I have flashbacks to what I was just experiencing in bed earlier and guilt washes over me. How can I be thinking about this now, when we're on our way to see my father? The father I haven't seen in years, who's been missing. What kind of daughter am I?
After what seems like forever, we pull up outside a warehouse. The concrete building is ominous against the night sky. It looks like we're in a rough part of town, just outside Chicago.
As we get out of the car, Gio grabs my arm, holding me back for a moment. His touch sends a jolt through me.
"Raven," he says, his voice low and serious. "I need to warn you. He's not in good shape. They beat him up pretty bad."
My throat tightens. "Who's 'they'? What happened to him?"
"He needs to tell you himself. You need to hear it from his mouth."
"Hear what?" Fear overtakes me.
Gio's eyes lock onto mine. "You'll see."
14
RAVEN
Istep into the warehouse, the smell of stale air and mildew filling my nostrils. The concrete floor feels cold even through my flats and mutes mine and Gio's steps.
My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dim lighting, but when they do, my heart stops.
I see him.
"Daddy!" The word pours from my throat before I can stop it. I rush forward, nearly tripping.
There he is, slumped in a chair, surrounded by Gio's men. All I can see is my father's face—or what's left of it. One eye is swollen shut, purple and yellow bruising spreading across his cheekbone. Dried blood cakes his split lip and trails down his chin.
