Page 86 of The Bonventi War
From the relative safety of the sidewalk across the street, I finally look up. The entire building is consumed now, flames shooting from windows on multiple floors. Fire trucks line the street, their red and blue lights lighting up the surrounding buildings. People in various states of undress huddle together—my neighbors, other business owners.
"My gallery, Gio. Oh my god," I say, as I start to cry. "Everything... it's all gone."
Gio pulls me against his chest, his arms encircling me protectively as we watch the firefighters work. I can feel his heart hammering through his shirt, his body still tense with adrenaline.
"Gio, I can't believe this. My mother's legacy," I say through tears. "This can't be happening. Oh shit, I'm going to be sick."
Gio grips me on the shoulders firmly.
"Hey, look at me. Raven, look at me."
It takes me a second to shift my vision from my burning gallery to his eyes, but I do.
"You are okay. You are your mother's legacy. Not that building. You."
I completely lose it, and tears flow as Gio pulls me in again to hug me. I rub my Raven tattoo as I sob, thinking about my mom, what Gio just said, and the fact that it was probably the best thing anyone could ever say to me.
And then, everything that's been going on shocks my thoughts.
"Gio, do you think it was them?" I ask.
"I don't know yet," he says, voice low and dangerous. "But I'm going to find out."
I turn to stare at the flames devouring my past, my future, everything my mom worked for, and something inside me hardens as I watch the destruction unfold.
"Whoever did this," I say, my voice firm, "I want them to pay."
Gio's arms tighten around me. "They will, Raven. I promise you that."
35
RAVEN
Iremain fixated on the flames. Each lick of fire devours another piece of my life, another memory, another link to my mother. My hair reeks of smoke, and my throat still feels a bit raw from the smoke I inhaled.
Gio hasn't let go of me once, his arm a constant anchor around my shoulders. We've been standing here for what feels like forever, watching as firefighters battle the blaze that was once my family's gallery.
"It's contained to the first floor now," one firefighter tells another as they pass by us.
I watch them direct high-powered streams of water through the shattered front windows. Glass crunches underfoot as emergency personnel move about. The water pools black with ash on the sidewalk, carrying charred fragments of canvases, frames, and documentation.
Gio's fingers tighten on my shoulder as we watch another section of ceiling collapse inside. The sound booms through the street, sending a fresh plume of smoke and sparks into the sky.
"I don't think there's much we can do right now. Let me take you to my house," Gio says suddenly, turning me away from the sight. "My real house."
I nod numbly, letting him guide me toward his car. He opens the door, and I slide into the leather seat, my body moving mechanically.
The drive passes in a blur. My eyes feel scratchy and dry from crying and smoke exposure. I stare out the window as the city gives way to sprawling suburbs, then to expansive, manicured estates. We turn onto a long, private driveway lined with cypress trees, and suddenly, it comes into view.
A massive Mediterranean-style mansion stands proudly against the night sky, illuminated by tasteful landscape lighting. The facade features elegant columns and archways, with multiple wings extending in different directions. It looks like something from a painting, not a real home where people actually live.
"You live here?" I ask, clearing the hoarseness from my voice as we pull up to the circular driveway. "Why the hell did you stay at those apartments?"
Gio shoots me a look, one eyebrow raised.
"Oh. Right. Me."
The car stops, and Gio helps me out. My legs feel weak beneath me as I take in the grandeur of his home. Stone steps lead to massive double doors that a staff member is already opening for us.
