Chapter 8 - THE MAN BEHIND THE MONSTERSix months later, Raven no longer traveled with fifteen bodyguards.
He had three.
Sometimes two.
He hated attention.
He hated interviews.
He hated reporters calling him reformed.
“I didn't reform,” he told me one morning.
“I stopped lying.”
I smiled.
“That sounds like reform.”
“It sounds like exhaustion.”
We were standing in the kitchen of his townhouse.
He was attempting to make pancakes.
He was failing.
“You're burning them.”
“I know.”
“You're a billionaire.”
“Yes.”
“You can buy a chef.”
“I want to make them.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
“Because you're pregnant.”
The spatula nearly fell from my hand.
“I haven't told you yet.”
He smiled.
“I found the doctor's appointment reminder.”
“You read my calendar.”
“You made the calendar.”
“I hate you.”
“No.”
He stepped closer.
“You love me.”
I laughed.
“Yes.”
He touched my stomach.
“Are you afraid?”
“A little.”
“So am I.”
The confession surprised me.
“You?”
“I'm terrified.”
“Why?”
“Because I have spent my whole life learning how to lose people.”
I took his hand.
“You don't have to lose us.”
He looked at me.
“No.”
He kissed my forehead.
“I won't.”
The baby was due in spring.
Raven became unbearable.
No stairs.
No late nights.
No carrying boxes.
No skipping meals.
No coffee after four.
“You are aware I'm pregnant, not made of glass.”
“I know.”
“You don't act like it.”
“I lost people because nobody protected them.”
He looked at me.
“I won't make that mistake again.”
I kissed him.
“Then protect me without suffocating me.”
He considered that.
“Deal.”
The final threat arrived three weeks before the wedding.
A letter.
No signature.
JUST BECAUSE THE EMPIRE IS GONE DOESN'T MEAN THE CAVALCANTE BLOODLINE IS.
Raven read it once.
Then burned it.
“You're not worried?”
He looked at me.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the people behind it think they are fighting the old Raven.”
May you like
He smiled.
“I’m not him anymore.”
