Page 61 of The Bonventi War
I blink, repeating his words in my head, trying not to cry, trying to process the storm of emotions and thoughts swirling inside me.
"You told me your mother built this place," Gio continues. "And this piece of shit is using your one weakness to drag you into his mess."
His words hit me like a brick, and I stumble back, my mind reeling. The truth of what he's saying clashes violently with the desperate hope I'd been clinging to—the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could fix this mess and save what's left of my family.
But as the reality of the situation crashes down around me, something inside me snaps. The fear, the confusion, the bitter disappointment—it all morphs into a white-hot rage that spills out before I can stop it.
"Oh, and you're so much better?" I spit out, my voice trembling with anger. "Where do you get off judging him when you're doing the exact same thing? At least he's honest about using me."
Gio's face goes still, his eyes widening. "What are you talking about?"
"Don't play dumb," I say with sarcasm. "You're using me too, aren't you? I'm just a job to you, remember? A means to an end. You only got close to me to satisfy your own goals—to find out who ordered Marco to be shot." I step closer, jabbing my finger at his chest. "Everything else? The protection? The sex? They're all probably just tools to get what you want."
The words taste like acid on my tongue, but I can't stop them. I'm aware, somewhere in the back of my mind, that I'm pushinghim away deliberately, creating distance between us when I need it least. But I can't seem to stop the self-destruction.
"What, did you think I'd forget? That I'd be so grateful for your 'protection' that I'd overlook the fact that you're probably just manipulating me like everyone else?"
Gio takes a step back, looking as if I'd physically struck him. "Raven, that's not?—"
"No, let's be honest here. You moved in across the hall to watch me. You put cameras in my apartment to spy on me. Everything you've done has been about control, about getting what you want." My voice cracks. "So don't stand there acting like my father is the only one using me. I'm done playing your little mafia chess game. I sell these paintings, and then both of you can just leave me the fuck alone."
I can see the betrayal in his eyes, the disbelief etched across his face. Good. Let him feel a fraction of the pain and confusion I'm drowning in.
"What the fuck, Raven. You don't actually believe that," he says.
"Tell me, Gio, was any of it real? Or was it all just part of your plan to keep me close and compliant?"
Gio doesn't respond. He doesn't move. He just stares at me, and I take that as confirmation.
"Yeah, I thought so. I trusted you," I say, keeping my voice firm. "I let myself believe that maybe, just maybe, you actually cared. But I was wrong, wasn't I? I'm just a job, and when this is all over, when you've gotten what you need from me, you'll disappear."
I can see Gio's fists clenching and unclenching, his entire body vibrating with barely contained rage, and I feel like at any moment he might attack.
The words I've just thrown at him hang in the air between us, poisonous and cruel. I said them to hurt him, to push him away, because maybe I need to protect myself, help my family—for my mom.
"You know that's not what this is," he says coldly.
"Do I?" I cross my arms over my chest, trying to hold myself together even as I tear everything apart.
Gio stares at me, his jaw clenching so hard I can see the muscle twitching beneath his skin. Then, without warning, he grabs the nearest object, a half-empty can of paint, and hurls it across the room and it crashes against the far wall. Paint explodes, thick white streaks dripping down like fresh wounds, smearing over everything in its path. It's ruined now. Stained. Just like us.
"Fuck!" he roars, and I flinch at the raw fury in his voice. "Is that what you think of me? That I fucked you as some kind of goddamn strategy?"
My heart is hammering in my chest. I know I should stop, that I'm crossing a line I can't uncross, but I can't seem to make myself shut up. "Why not? Isn't that what men like you do? Use people until you get what you want and then discard them?"
His eyes darken, and he takes a step toward me, then stops himself. I can see him struggling for control, his hands making fists so hard his skin is turning red.
"Men like me," he repeats, his voice dangerously soft now. "And what kind of man is that, Raven?"
"A monster," I say, and the word feels like a blade cutting through my own heart. "A killer."
"You want to talk about monsters?" Gio's voice interrupts my thoughts. He turns to my father, who shrinks back against the wall.
He takes a breath, visibly restraining himself from going after my father. "And you're defending him. Standing there telling me I'm the monster when I've done nothing but try to protect you."
My father clears his throat.
I turn back to Gio, and I can see the hurt and anger warring in his eyes.
