Page 32 of The Bonventi War
Her words hit like a bullet to the chest. Fuck. She's right. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be outside my realm—outside mafia rules, outside the brutal logic that governs my world. Shit, people disappear all the time. They get traded, sold, killed. It’s just business. And I’ve talked about it like it's nothing. But Raven, she’s not part of this. She shouldn't have to be. Her shitty father dragged her into our hell.
I exhale sharply and glance at her. "You're right," I admit. "But I need you to understand something. As long as I’m breathing, no one is taking you anywhere. Not the Russians. Not anyone."
Her lips press into a tight line. "Why? Why do you care?"
I could lie. Could tell her it's just business. But the truth—fuck, the truth is clawing its way to the surface. Instead, I settle for something in between. "Because I do."
She looks away, staring out the window, and I don’t push. The rest of the drive passes in tense silence and I watch her from the corner of my eye, noticing how she wraps her arms around herself like she's trying to hold all her broken pieces together.
When we arrive at the gallery, I follow her up to her apartment without a word. She doesn't look at me, doesn't acknowledge my presence. As she reaches her door, I clear my throat.
"I'll be next door if you need anything."
She doesn't respond. She just goes inside and shuts the door in my face.
I stand there for a moment, staring at the closed door. My fists clench at my sides. I want to break down the door, to go in there and… hold her? Comfort her? I don't even know how to do that kind of shit, but I want to do something.
And then it hits me. This fierce need to protect her reminds me of Marco. Of how I failed him. How I almost lost my little brother because I wasn't watching closely enough.
I couldn't protect him then. But with Raven—I can do better. I can be better. I won't fail her like I failed Marco.
The Russians, Frank, anyone who tries to hurt her—they'll have to go through me first. And nobody who's tried that has lived to tell about it.
I turn to go inside my apartment when I hear her door open.
"What are you going to do?" she asks, looking at me, hesitation in her voice.
"I told you you're under my protection, so I'll keep you safe," I say firmly.
"How? You can't fight the entire Russian mafia."
I turn to face her. "I'm a Bonventi. Watch me."
The faintest smile flashes across her face. If I wasn't looking at her so intently, I would have missed it.
She nods and shuts the door.
I turn and enter my own apartment, immediately heading for the security feeds. The camera in Raven's apartment shows her curled up on the couch, hugging a pillow.
I pour myself a drink, knocking it back in one go. The burn of the whiskey does nothing to dull what I'm feeling.
What the fuck is wrong with me? When did I start caring about some woman's feelings? She's just a means to an end, right? Just a way to protect my family, to get to the bottom of this mess with the Russians.
But as I watch her on the screen, something inside me shifts. She's not just a pawn in this game anymore. She's—fuck, I don't know what she is. But I know I can't let anything happen to her.
I've spent my whole life being the protector. The enforcer. The one who makes the hard decisions to keep my family safe. But now, looking at Raven on the screen, I realize I want to be more than that. I want to be her protector too.
Not because she's weak. Christ, she's anything but weak. The way she stood up to me, the fire in her eyes when she told me off in the car—she's got more strength than most of the men I deal with daily.
No, I want to protect her because I can't stand the thought of anyone hurting her. Of anyone making her cry like this again.
Because somewhere along the line, without me even realizing it, Raven became more than just a job. More than just a means to an end.
She became mine to protect.
16
RAVEN
