Chapter 6 - THE TRUTH BEHIND RAVEN'S FATHERLucia escaped.
But she left behind evidence.
Bank accounts.
Secret companies.
Political connections.
And proof that Raven's father had been trying to dismantle the criminal wing of the family.
The old legend was wrong.
Raven's father had not been the villain.
He had been the first person trying to end it.
Marcus had helped.
James had helped.
Victoria had been too afraid.
And Lucia had spent decades rebuilding the empire they tried to destroy.
Raven sat in silence after reading everything.
“I spent my whole life becoming what they wanted me to become.”
I sat beside him.
“You don't have to.”
He looked at me.
“Do you know why I hired you?”
I smiled.
“You needed someone competent.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“Your resume was too ordinary.”
I frowned.
“I had great references.”
“You had one.”
“My former employer.”
“And a photograph.”
“What photograph?”
He pulled an old picture from the file.
Me.
At sixteen.
Standing beside my father.
Raven looked at it.
“My father had it.”
I stared.
“He knew you existed.”
He took my hand.
“He told me once that if I ever met a woman who looked at the world like she expected it to hurt her, I should protect her.”
My chest tightened.
“Did he mean me?”
“I think so.”
Silence.
Raven looked at our joined hands.
“I thought I was protecting you because you worked for me.”
He squeezed my fingers.
“Now I know I was protecting you because I love you.”
I stopped breathing.
“You…”
“I love you.”
He looked terrified saying it.
Not like the billionaire.
Not like the Don.
Like a man.
I kissed him.
For a few seconds, there was no mafia.
No family.
No ledger.
No danger.
Just us.
Then the window shattered.
A bullet flew across the room.
Raven shoved me down.
“Stay here!”
He ran toward the hallway.
I followed.
“Raven!”
He turned.
“Don't.”
“I am not letting you die alone.”
He stared.
Then he nodded.
“Stay behind me.”
We moved together.
Outside, a car disappeared into the night.
On the ground was a red scarf.
Victoria saw it.
Her face changed.
“Lucia.”
But Raven shook his head.
“No.”
He picked up the scarf.
“This belongs to someone else.”
He turned it over.
There was a small silver emblem stitched into the fabric.
A Cavalcante family crest.
One the family stopped using twenty years ago.
May you like
Raven stared.
“Someone inside the family is still helping her.”
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