Page 40 of The Bonventi War
But I don't believe myself. Not after last night.
I rip off Gio's shirt and toss it in the hamper, quickly changing into my own clothes—black yoga pants and an oversized sweater. Even dressed, my skin still tingles where his hands touched me.
I need to do something. Anything to stop thinking about him.
There's only one thing that calms me when my mind won't shut up—work.
I grab my keys and slip out of my apartment, taking the back stairs down to the gallery. I flip on just enough light to work. The basement air is cool and dry, the familiar scent of paint and oil wrapping around me like a comforting blanket.
Here, I'm not a woman drowning in emotions. I'm not the daughter of a man who betrayed me. I'm just an artist, bringing beauty back to life.
As I work, time disappears. The world falls away, leaving only the steady movement of my brush. This is why I love restoration—taking something damaged and making it whole again.
If only I could do the same for myself.
Footsteps on the stairs snap me back. I tense, expecting Gio. But when I turn, it's Steven.
I glance at my phone.
Shit. Six hours have passed. It's almost opening time.
"Raven? Have you been down here all night?" Concern lines his face.
I shrug, not wanting to explain. "Couldn't sleep. Thought I'd get some work done."
Steven steps behind me, his hands landing on my shoulders.
"You work too hard," he says, leaning in to examine the painting. "But damn, you're good at what you do. This restoration is coming along beautifully."
I barely register his words. My focus is on his hands.
"Remove your fucking hands from her."
Steven jerks back instantly.
I turn to see Gio's massive frame filling the doorway. His jaw is tight, his green eyes dark with fury.
"I was just—" Steven starts.
"Just what?" Gio takes a step toward us. "Just putting your hands where they don't belong?"
Steven stumbles back, realizing the danger he's in. "Look, man, I didn't mean anything by it." He forces a laugh, trying to smooth over the situation.
Gio rubs his chin, voice dropping to something lethal. "If you ever get the desire to touch her again, you better reconsider. Because I'll take that as a sign you don't need those hands anymore. Got it?"
I exhale, not realizing I'd been holding my breath.
I won't lie, the possessiveness in Gio's voice is kind of hot. Before, I would have probably wanted to throw something at him, but now? Not so much.
Steven's face pales. "Yeah. Got it." He backs away, nearly tripping over his own feet. "I'll just… um… go open the gallery."
I watch him practically run up the stairs, the door slamming behind him.
Gio's eyes flick to mine. He's studying me, waiting to see how I'll react. Probably expecting a fight.
Instead, I turn back to the painting.
"He'll quit, you know," I say, focusing on the delicate brushstrokes, ignoring the way my body still hums from last night. "And then who would I get to help me sell and make money?"
