13. Raven

Chapter thirteen

Raven

It’s been four days since Ezra unleashed that peak of pleasure within me, and he’d gone… no contact. Had he caught on to my plan? Was he now avoiding me?

God, I hate that I have to resort to making my body his pleasure toy just to safeguard myself. It was sickening.

But... was it really? I can't lie that the thrill of that night still makes my pussy pulse. His allure is my downfall. My body betrays me every time. It’s almost impossible to hate someone who makes me feel this way.

Ezra Marino? the one man who can turn my ‘no’ into a mind-blowing ‘yes’. However cold and unyielding he is, every single moment with him is electrifying. Sex with him doesn’t feel physical anymore. There is something beyond…something undefined.

My mind keeps going back to it, replaying every second. It’s insane, all of it. I should feel disgusted, or at least ashamed, but I don’t. I feel… lost. And the worst part? I have no one to talk to about any of it.

Like every other night, I lie in my bed, alone, my stare burning holes in the ceiling, brooding about the mafia boss and the sinister world he shoved me into.

After the last time at the stitch room, I actually thought it would change something between us. Instead, he isolates me even more.

I don’t know what I’m thinking. This plan was a failure from the start. As if sleeping with Ezra would magically make him care. He is not that kind of man.

He’s not capable of love or affection.

I roll over in my bed and pull the duvet around me. I wish it would shield me from the cascade of emotions that sap my energy. I feel so small in this room, in this world, almost like I am shrinking under the weight of my own stupid hopes.

What did I even expect from him? Compassion? God, I was so na?ve to even let myself go there.

Bile rises in my throat, and I swallow hard. These thoughts only make me unhappy. I need to stop.

My eyelids grow heavier, and the room around me blurs. I feel myself falling, sagging under the weight of exhaustion. The last thing I remember is the softness of my bed beneath me, and then…nothing.

When I wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of the doorknob rattling.

My heart skips, and I shoot up disheveled. Nevertheless, I am quickly running my fingers through my hair, working to look... I don’t even know, presentable? Is it him?

The door creaks open, and all that anticipation sinks like a stone in my chest. It is just a guard, one of the regular men out of the six I’ve come to know, who brings me my meals. He sets the tray down on the bedside table.

“How’s Ezra?” I inquire, keeping my voice steady. When I get no response, I add, “Please let him know it’s been four days. His stitches…they need to be checked.”

He barely even looks at me while he collects the tray from dinner yesterday. “If the boss needs you, he’ll call.”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Am I more concerned about his injury or just looking for an excuse to see him again?

“Right. Just… thought I’d check,” my voice is barely above a whisper.

The door clicks shut behind the guard, and I stifle a sigh. My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms. Why do I even care? Ezra Marino does not give a damn about me. He never has.

I should not be thinking about him, let alone worrying.

Crossing my arms, I stare at the door, willing it to open again. Maybe he will walk through and say something— anything. But it stays closed, just like him. Ezra is a fortress I can’t break through, but I need to get to him as soon as possible to escape.

The sweet aroma of pasta teases my nose. I glance over at the meal. It does look tasty, but my appetite is gone. Food is the least of my problems. Everything is falling apart.

Every escape plan I have come up with, every desperate effort, has gone to shit. I am still here, trapped. Is this really it? Stuck in this room, waiting for Ezra to decide what happens to me?

My thoughts are still going in circles when something cuts me off. The sounds of… footsteps —a different kind— tapping down the hallway, indicating that someone is heading this way.

I’ve become an expert at keeping an ear out for sounds to know when the guards are bringing in food. But this can’t be a guard, they dropped off my meal already.

These steps are quieter, as if someone does not want to be heard. It sounds fishy, and warning signals go off in my gut.

Before I can fully process what is happening, the door bursts open. It’s not a guard, and it isn’t Ezra either. A masked figure rushes in, only his eyes are visible through the mask, but I can’t see them. I’m too scared to. He’s tall and big, which gives him a hefty appearance…and he’s holding a knife.

Fuck!

The man lunges at me, the knife’s blade glinting a promising death as it slices through the air. I barely manage to grab a pillow, thrusting it in front of me like a flimsy shield. A scream rips from my throat, shrill and desperate.

“Help! Somebody, help!” The knife tears through the pillow, sending a spray of feathers into the air.

I grab another pillow and hurl it at him, but he punches it away like it’s nothing.

My legs shake as I scramble out of bed, my heart pounding so hard I can hear it in my ears. I throw the comforter next, the fabric tangling around his arms for a split second—just enough time for me to race towards the bathroom.

I nearly make it, fingers brushing the handle, but then his arm clamps around my neck, dragging me back. My scream shakes the room, piercing and wild.

“In here! Someone, help!”

His grip only tightens, my throat closing under the pressure.

Rapidly, my eyes bounce off every inch of the room as I frantically search for something—anything—to defend myself with.

The meal tray, maybe haul it at him. But it's too far. My breath comes in shallow gasps.

There’s nowhere to run, nowhere to hide– I'm trapped. My teeth sink into his arm, but it only fuels his rage.

Smack! His palm connects with my face. The force makes me see stars for a second.

I hit the floor, head throbbing, cheeks pulsing with blinding pain. He glances at the bite mark on his arm, a sneer curling his lips.

“Please,” I gasp, the word barely escaping as he crouches.

He ignores me, bringing the sharp end of the blade to my throat.

I see the image of the patient I couldn’t save, the cold, lifeless body, flashing in my head. Except this time, it’s my own face staring back.

Could this be Ezra’s way of finally getting rid of me? My body freezes, the realization slamming into me like a freight train: I’m not getting out of this alive.

Suddenly, a deafening crash shatters the room. My body jolts as the door flies off its hinges. My eyes snap open.

It’s him. Ezra. And two more men.

“Get away from her!” Ezra’s voice is a snarl, and his teeth clenched as the other two flank him with guns drawn. My mind barely registers the chaos before Ezra raises his weapon. The intruder moves to react, but it's already too late. Ezra fires, the shot ringing out like thunder in the room.

The man crumples to the floor with a hole in his chest, the knife falling from his hand.

My eyes widen in horror as I lay there, calming my ragged breathing. I can’t believe what just happened. I…almost died.

Somebody tried to kill me. That's the only thing that fills my mind as tears burn my eyes.

Ezra steps over the body on the floor to where I’m still trembling. His face is grim, but his eyes tell a different story. Something about them reveals… concern?

I can't tell because the thoughts now overwhelm me.

“Are you hurt?” he asks, bringing an arm to my shoulders.

My breath comes out strained. That's the only response I give as I sink into my own head. The man had come for me… for me. Is there now someone apart from Ezra involved in my affair?

“Raven.” Ezra’s soft whisper brings me back to reality as he lightly grazes my cheek.

I wince, then swallow in an attempt to compose the tremor in my voice. “I- I don’t know.”

He glances at me, then at the body on the floor. “Come on,” he says, stepping toward me. “It’s not safe here anymore.”

Once again, I don’t respond. Ezra waits a little before curving an arm on the back of my knees and the other under my shoulders, then carries me out of the room.

I can't help but notice he seems protective in a way I’m not used to. Why did he even save me?

We step into the hallway and I can see Ezra’s men hurrying back and forth in the hallway to take care of the situation.

One of them yells something about closing the gates and not letting anyone leave the premises. I look up at Ezra, who says nothing but looks forward with furrowed brows. There’s a deadly gleam in his eyes.

I curl more into myself and start to wonder. Could this have been an attempt on Ezra’s life instead? But the man clearly came for me… It must be because of Ezra though.

This only deepens the realization that every time I try to get out of this mess, something somehow drags me deeper into it. The tears stream down my cheeks.

Without a doubt, Ezra’s universe is swallowing me up…and now, someone wants me dead.

By the time I realize where we are, the don is using a shoulder to push open the door to a large bedroom without a word.

I bring my eyes back to this space. The room is cold and dark, as intimidating as Ezra himself.

“Stay here tonight.” His tone leaves no room for argument.

I nod, but my nerves are still buzzing.

Safe . I’m not sure I believe it. Not anymore. I haven’t been safe since I crossed paths with him.

He lowers himself and slowly eases me onto the bed. I sink down on the plush mattress, my body growing somewhat limp under the weight of this new face-to-face encounter with death.

He stands there for a moment, watching me, and in that moment, my tears turn into loud sobs. This is messed up… all of this is so messed up.

Suddenly, I feel Ezra’s calloused thumbs brush my cheeks. “You’re safe now.”

But it’s only fuel to my tears. One second, I’m barely holding it together, and the next, I’m completely falling apart. Everything—fear, anger, confusion—crashes over me all at once, and I can’t stop the sobs from taking over.

The bed creaks and, to my surprise, I feel him climb into bed, moving, before he wraps an arm around me. He pulls me to his warm chest. I should push him away, should resist the comfort he offers. But I don’t.

Instead, I press my face against him and let it all out. I cry harder than I have in years, my whole body tremulous as he holds me. He doesn’t try to stop me as I let it all out.

It’s surreal to be comforted by the very man who is danger himself. The same man who’d turned my life upside down. And yet, in this moment, none of that matters.

With my cheek pressed against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, I realize I do feel safe in Ezra’s arms.