Page 64 of The Bonventi War

"Come to my place. You need to cool off."

I'm about to refuse when a cold realization hits me. If I go home now, alone with these thoughts, with this rage, I'll end up going back to her. Going back and what? Begging? Threatening? Kidnapping her to keep her safe from her own stupid decisions? Christ. When did I become this pathetic?

"Fine. Be there in twenty."

I hang up and tell my driver the change of plans. I stare out the window, lost in thought for some time. Finally, we pull up to Ares's house.

"We're here, sir."

Ares is already at the door when I reach his entrance, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He takes one look at my face and steps aside without a word.

I stride in, shedding my jacket and loosening my tie. I head into his bar room and take a seat.

Ares hands me the whiskey. "Let's talk."

I down it in one swallow and hold out the glass for more. "Nothing to say."

"Bullshit." He refills my glass, then his own. "I've known you my entire life, Gio. I've seen you angry, I've seen you violent, I've seen you every which way, but I've never seen you like this."

"Like what?" I challenge, looking him dead in the eye.

"Heartbroken, man. Like a fucking lost puppy."

I laugh. "Dramatic much? Shit. I'm pissed off, not heartbroken. She's being stupid, getting herself into danger, and she won't let me protect her. End of story."

Ares shakes his head, settling into an armchair. "You keep telling yourself that."

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you're in love with her, you idiot. And it's scaring the shit out of you."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Love? Is that what this is? This possessive rage, this desperate need to keep her safe, this hollow ache at the thought of her choosing someone else over me?

"I don't do love," I say flatly.

"Apparently you do now."

I drop into the sofa across from him, rubbing my hand over my face. "She's going to get herself killed, Ares. Her father wants her to forge paintings to pay off the Russians. The same Russians who beat the shit out of him and who tried to buy her like she was a fucking racehorse."

"And you're worried about her."

"Of course I'm fucking worried about her!" I explode, surging to my feet. "These aren't men who'll be satisfied with a few forged paintings. Once they know she can do it, they'll never let her go. They'll use her until there's nothing left."

The thought of Raven in their hands, being hurt, enrages me. A red mist descends over my vision, and I grip my glass so hard I'm surprised it doesn't shatter.

"So what's your plan?" Ares asks calmly, unfazed by my outburst.

"Plan?" I ask. "She made it clear she doesn't want my help. Doesn't want me."

"Since when has that ever stopped you from taking what you want?"

I look at him sharply. "What are you saying? That I should force her? Kidnap her?"

Ares shrugs. "If that's what it takes to keep her safe. Hell, take her to my place in Kalamata. Greece does wonders."

I sigh, lost in thought. The idea tempts me. I could do it. But I'd lose her. Even if her body was there, she'd hate me. And somehow, that matters now.

When the fuck did that start mattering?