Page 60 of The Bonventi War
My heart stops as heavy footsteps descend the stairs. Shit, I know those steps.
It's Gio.
I toss the brush down and turn to see Gio standing there. His towering presence is not as intimidating as what fills his eyes as he takes in everything—the supplies spread across the table, my father, who stands nervously in the corner.
His jaw tightens, and I can tell he's not liking what he's seeing.
"What the hell is this?" he asks finally. "And what the fuck is he doing here?"
"Gio, I can explain—" I start, but my father cuts me off.
"The Russians agreed to give us more time if we can pay them back. And we will," he says, smiling, "with paintings. Ravenna's agreed to help with the forgeries. Her skills are perfect for this, and it'll save her from having to?—"
"Dad, stop." My voice comes out sharper than intended.
Gio narrows in on my dad and, in a deadly stern tone, says, "What did you just say?"
I step forward, hands raised. "Gio, let me explain?—"
"Explain what?" His eyes, usually warm when they look at me, turn to ice. "That you're planning to commit art fraud for the Russians? The same Russians who want to make you their property?"
"It's not like that," my father interjects. "This is a way out. They'll accept the money instead of?—"
"Shut up!" I turn and yell at my dad.
"Instead of what?" Gio's attention snaps to my father, who actually takes a step back. "Instead of forcing her to be their whore because of what you fucking did?"
He turns back to me, and the disappointment in his eyes hurts worse than his anger. "Forgeries? You agreed to this?"
"I..." My voice falters. How do I explain that I felt trapped? That I was trying to protect everyone? "I was going to tell you."
"When?" He takes a step closer. "After you started backroom deals with people who don't keep their word no matter what you think? After you put yourself deeper in their debt? Or after you got more involved with the fucking Russians?"
My father, apparently oblivious to the danger he's in, decides to help. "Now wait just a minute. This is family business. We're doing what we have to do to survive. You have no right?—"
In a flash, Gio has my father pinned against the wall, his forearm pressed against his throat. "I have every right," he snarls. "Your daughter is under my protection. And you," he presses harder, and my father gasps, "you're the reason she needs it in the first place."
"Gio, please," I beg. "Let him go. You're hurting him. This isn't his fault. It's mine. I agreed to help."
Gio stares at my father for a moment before releasing him. My dad slumps to the floor, coughing. He turns to me, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and something else—disappointment? Hurt?
"Why?" he demands. "Why would you agree to this? Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? You should have just come to me."
I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly feeling very small. "I didn't know what else to do," I whisper. "They were going to kill him, and they'd do so much worse to me."
"So you didn't trust me? You thought I couldn't handle it? Keep you away from them?"
I swear I hear some hurt in his voice. I reach out to touch his arm for the first time, but he pulls away.
My father rubs his throat. "Look, we appreciate your protection, but this is a family matter. We're doing the right thing. Her mother would be proud that?—"
"Dad. Please, don't!"
"A family matter?" Gio's voice is a growl. "Like when you sold your daughter to save your own worthless skin? Is that how you handle family matters?"
Gio turns to me.
"Your father is using you, Raven. Can't you see that? He's a piece of shit for doing this, for dragging you into his mess. For manipulating you, using your mother's memory like a weapon." He pauses, looking at my dad and then back at me. "You really think your mother would ever want you to put yourself at risk like this? For him? He'd sell you as soon as there's any pressure."
