Page 34 of The Bonventi War
I turn, and the bags slip from my hands.
Oh my God.
The black SUV I saw earlier is driving right at me.
The headlights blind me as I throw myself sideways. My hands hit the pavement first, followed by my knee. Pain rips through my leg as asphalt tears into my skin. The shopping bags scatter, their contents spilling across the ground.
Another screech of tires fills my ears as the SUV whips around, stopping just feet from where I landed. My heart pounds so hard I can barely hear anything else. The passenger door flies open.
Shit. These aren't Gio's men.
I push myself up, but my scraped knee buckles. I stumble, falling against a parked car. I wince in pain as I watch the man who'd been following me all day hop out of the passenger seat, a large knife in his hand.
Before I can regain my balance, his hand grabs a fistful of my shirt. He yanks me up, slamming me back against the car. The impact knocks the breath from my lungs. His other hand—the one with the knife—presses against my throat as he forces my head back. Pain shoots down my spine as my body arches at an unnatural angle.
"Ravenna Carvello." He says in a thick Russian accent. His breath smells like cigarettes and stale tobacco. "You are such a pretty thing."
Up close, I can see his eyes now, cold and gray behind those dark glasses. They hold no emotion, no hesitation.
I try to move, but he holds me there, pressing the knife harder. I feel a warm liquid trickle down my neck.
I'm completely at his mercy.
"Your father said he'd deliver you. We're growing tired of waiting, so now I take you," he says.
"No, please," I beg. "Please. I don't?—"
He pulls me forward and then slams me back against the car. "Shut up, you stupid little bitch, and do as?—"
A warm spray hits my face, and for a moment, I'm frozen in confusion. The pressure on my throat suddenly vanishes as the man holding me goes limp. His body crumples to the ground, revealing Gio standing behind him, gun still raised.
I blink, trying to process what just happened. My legs feel weak, and I grip the car's rearview mirror to stay upright.
Gunshots ring out—four in rapid succession. I flinch at each one, my ears ringing. Gio's turned toward the SUV now, firing at the driver. I hear some yelling that abruptly ends as I see a body slumped over inside the vehicle.
I instantly wipe my face, and when I pull my hand away, I see streaks of red. Streaks of blood.
My vision starts to blur.
Gio is rushing toward me, his gun disappearing beneath his jacket. He's talking. I see his mouth moving, but I can't quite catch his words. Everything sounds muffled, like he's speaking underwater.
Darkness starts creeping in. I feel like I'm floating. The world tilts sideways as I start to fall.
My last coherent thought before the darkness claims me is that I never thought I'd be so happy to see Gio Bonventi.
17
RAVEN
Ishift in my bed, feeling a bit groggy. My head feels fuzzy, and my eyes are too heavy to open right away. I try to piece together what happened. The SUV, the knife, blood.
I inhale deeply and freeze. That scent. Rich, masculine—definitely Gio's cologne. The same one that haunted my dreams. Am I dreaming again? I turn my face into what I think is my pillow, and his scent intensifies, wrapping around me like a security blanket. Something in my chest unclenches, making me feel oddly safe despite my confusion.
I force my eyes open, blinking away the fog. As my vision clears, panic sets in. This isn't my bedroom. The walls are the wrong color, the sheets—I don't own silk sheets. I sit up, my heart beginning to race.
Where the hell am I?
I push myself up, my head spinning slightly with the movement. On the nightstand beside me sits a crisp black shopping bag withthe Armani logo in the center, and below it, in an elegant script, is my name—"Raven."
