Page 75 of The Bonventi War

White-hot rage floods my veins. Frank Carvello. That cowardly piece of shit.

"I'll kill him," I vow. "And anyone else that tried to harm you. Slowly."

There's no negotiation in my tone. This is a statement of fact.

Raven looks at me, and I expect her to say something, to defend her father despite everything. Instead, she just nods once, a single tear slipping down her cheek.

She doesn't argue.

31

GIO

Ipull up to the gallery and help Raven out. I support her firmly as we walk toward the elevator to take us up to her apartment.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I pull it out, keeping one arm firmly around Raven's waist.

"Someone's in the gallery," I say, showing her the security alert. "Motion sensors triggered in the lobby."

Raven's eyes go wide. "My father."

Something dark coils inside me, a serpent waiting to strike. My body goes still, like a wolf catching the scent of its prey.

"Stay here," I say.

She straightens, despite the pain. "No. I'm coming with you."

I look at her for a moment, knowing there's nothing I could say to change her mind.

I nod once and draw my gun.

"Stay behind me."

We move silently toward the gallery entrance. I push open the door, keeping my weapon raised as we enter. The main floor is dark, silent, but a faint glow is coming from Raven's office.

We make our way over, and I push the door open with my gun. I scan the room quickly. Left. Right. Nothing.

"What the hell happened here?" Raven asks.

The room looks like it's been ransacked. Like someone was looking for something in a hurry.

We then hear a crash, and I spin around, ready to fire.

"The basement," Raven whispers to me.

As we move toward the sound, Raven's fingers dig into my arm.

I feel her tremble as we approach the stairwell, but her steps are steady. We descend slowly, my gun leading the way. The basement comes into view—her workspace, her restoration table, and Frank Carvello stuffing things into a duffel bag. It looks like he's trying to make a run for it.

The sight of him ignites my blood. He not only brought the Russians to her, he stood by while they beat her, while they threw her into a trunk. Every bruise on Raven's face flashes before my eyes.

Frank looks up, dropping a rolled canvas, his mouth falling open in shock.

"Ravenna?" His eyes dart from her battered face to my gun. "How did you?—"

I don't let him finish. I lunge forward, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the wall. My gun presses into his temple.

"You worthless piece of shit," I snarl.