27. Raven

Chapter twenty-seven

Raven

The night is unusually warm. Moonlight streams through the tall windows, casting a soft, silvery glow over the indoor garden.

I crouch low, gently running my fingers over the silky petals of the moonflowers and night-blooming jasmine scattered across the garden.

My lips curve up in a smile as their scents infiltrate my senses. I take in the view of their pale petals glowing faintly underneath the moonlight touching them.

Then, someone nearby clearing their throat shatters the peace and tranquility. Surprised, I glance over and notice a guard standing stiffly in the doorway— a stark reminder that it’s time for my curfew.

Straightening up, I wipe my sweaty palms on the bottoms of my romper. I give the flowers one last glance before making my way out of the garden. I walk past him, the silence loud between us while we head into the main house.

As I step through the front door and pass the dining room on my way to the stairs, Ezra crosses my mind.

He left abruptly for work this morning and hasn’t returned. Since we arrived at this mansion a few weeks ago, Ezra hardly spent the night out, so I can’t help but wonder why he’s not home yet.

Just as I take the first step up the stairs, the front door slams open with a loud bang.

I jump, holding a hand to my chest in fright. A group of Ezra’s men storm into the mansion, their faces twisted in panic. Their clothes are drenched with blood, not mere splatters, but soaked through as if they'd bathed in violence. The coppery smell of blood hits me, sharp and suffocating, and it makes my stomach churn.

My gaze shifts to the center of their frantic movement. I realize they’re carrying someone between them, their voices tense and low as they exchange quick commands.

As they draw closer, my heart stops, and my blood runs cold when I catch a glimpse of the figure they’re carrying.

Ezra.

I freeze, my eyes narrowing to the sight of his lifeless body slumped between his men. Dark, crimson liquid seeps through his once pristine suit, pooling around two gaping bullet wounds in his chest. For a moment, everything slows as they carry him past me.

Fuck. Two bullet wounds in the chest can be fatal.

For a second, I can’t move. I can’t breathe. Then the panic hits.

My legs carry me forward before I can think, my heart hammering loudly in my ears. They’re almost at the stitch room, but I’m barely keeping up.

“What happened?!” I demand, my voice shrill.

No answer.

Ezra’s still, too still.

“What the hell happened to him?!”

I try to keep up as they hurry down the hallway.

“Tell me!” I shout again, grabbing the arm of the nearest man.

The man briefly looks in my direction, his expression grim, but he says nothing. His silence is an answer in itself, filling me with dread. I let him go, my steps faltering, my hands trembling, as the men push through the door leading to the stitch room.

I can’t breathe. My mind spirals until my heartbeat is the only thing I can hear. He can’t die. Not now.

I have to help him.

With my mind made up, I stumble forward. My legs almost give way as I rush to the door but before I can make it, strong arms suddenly yank me back.

I whirl around to find Elio behind me with a stern gaze. I wrench free, but he steps in front of me, blocking my way.

“No,” he says firmly. “You can’t.”

I blink, shaking my head as I try to push past him. “What do you mean I can’t? I’m his doctor. I can—”

He grabs me gently but firmly by the waist while I struggle against him.

“You can’t,” he reiterates. “Raven, stop. You have to let the doctor work.”

I shake my head, my arms and legs flailing. “He needs me, Elio. I can help him.” All I can envision is Ezra’s pale body, bleeding out on the operating table. I have to save him!

Elio must’ve realized there was no getting through to me because he lifts me over his shoulder and walks away from the stitch room.

“No. Let me go…” I bring down my fists on his hard back. “Put me down this instant,” my voice quakes. I wiggle around to escape but the man’s grip is strong.

Elio only grunts as he makes his way up the stairs to Ezra’s bedroom, completely unfazed. Once there, he puts me down by the bed and holds me steady by my shoulders.

He steps closer. His eyes sweep over me; they’re soft, instead of the same cold scrutiny they always hold. “Your hands are shaking. You can’t save him like this.”

I look down, and sure enough, my hands are trembling vigorously.

I bite down on my lip, fighting back the tears that well up in my eyes as I step back. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to stop the shaking, but that doesn’t work.

“Look!” Elio’s voice cuts through the haze. “The house doctor is here. He is good. Let him handle this.” He adds with a firm tone in his voice.

Elio begins to say something, but I’m barely aware of anything beyond the numbness sinking into my bones. The world fades into the background and slows as my mind is clouded with the sight of Ezra in his near-death state.

He promised he would be careful.

“Rave…Raven.” When I look up, Elio’s mouth is moving.

“Raven!” His voice finally pierces through my muffled world when he shakes me. “You should clean up.”

I don’t argue. The panic has robbed me of my strength. My body feels heavy, my head throbs. I barely notice Elio slip out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

The mattress sinks as I fall onto it. I barely register the cold sheets as I stare at the ceiling, tears streaming down the sides of my head. Thoughts swirl and fade, one bleeding into the next.

Ezra’s a strong man. He’ll surely survive. In his words, he’s been through worse. A bullet can’t keep the mafia boss down. Can it?

I don’t know how long I lie there, but eventually, the door creaks open again.

Elio is standing in the hallway, his forehead creasing in a frown as he takes in my appearance.

“I thought you’d want to know… He’s stable now.”

The second those words exit his mouth, I find the strength to sit up again, my eyes wide. “He’s conscious? Can I see him?”

I jump out of the bed, ready to rush out, but he shakes his head slowly.

“He’s stable…” he hesitates, his eyes locked onto me. My steps falter, and I pause, waiting for his next words. “But he’s in a coma. The doctor doesn’t know when… or if he’ll wake up.”

The words hit me like a hammer, shattering the hope that had barely begun to take root. The room spins as I focus on the blood spread out on Elio’s shirt. And even though I see Elio’s mouth moving, I can’t hear anything. One thought replays through my mind like a broken record: Ezra is in a coma .

“Raven,” Elio says again, his voice finally cutting through the noise in my head. “You need to clean yourself up.”

He’s already by the door, opening it, his expression grim. He says something in Italian to someone outside, his voice low as the door clicks shut behind him.

Numbly, I drag myself to the bathroom, my steps forced and slow. When I reach the mirror, I stop to take in my reflection. I look like I’ve been to hell and back.

My eyes are bloodshot, rimmed with dark circles from exhaustion and tears. The white shirt I’m wearing is now stained with streaks of Ezra’s blood from when Elio carried me. I take off the shirt slowly, like a robot.

Then my eyes fall on the reflection of my stomach in the mirror and everything inside me freezes.

My hands instinctively rests on my stomach. Reality hits me like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from my lungs.

How can I bring my baby into this life? How can I raise them in a world where everything can be ripped away in an instant, like this? I want to stay, to be with Ezra. But this life growing inside me gives me cause to rethink my decision.

Do I risk losing it if I stay? Or do I walk away from the man I love now to protect our baby? Both choices tear me apart. I close my eyes, steadying my breath.

Fuck . I know what I have to do.

My hands tremble as I hurry through a quick shower, trying to scrub off the blood, the fear, the guilt. Yet nothing feels clean.

When I return to the bedroom, I change into fresh clothes from the closet, I pull on a dark green shirt and black joggers.

I reach for my second bag of clothes and rummage through the pocket of my jeans, my hands still shaking as I search for it. Finally, my fingers close around the white contact card. The small, worn piece of paper I had stashed away and even considered tossing out. I never thought it would come to this, never thought I’d actually use it.

I make my way to the bedside table and pull the burner phone out of the drawer, my fingers trembling as I dial the number.

The voice on the other end picks up after the second ring. “I’m ready to leave,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

The stranger’s voice is calm, almost too calm. “Fifteen minutes. Same place.”

I hang up, my heart hammering faster as I stuff the phone into my pocket. I need to move fast, time’s running out. The guards are distracted right now, everyone’s attention is on Ezra. If I’m careful, I can slip out unnoticed.

As I step out of the room, I tuck my hands into my pockets to hide their shaking, a sigh of relief escaping me when I don’t see guards in front of the room as usual.

I hurry down the many hallways that stretch longer than they should. I turn to the hallway that leads to the side entrance and come to an abrupt halt. I exhale slowly before walking out of the corner and towards the entrance.

The guards stationed at the door glance at me as I approach, one of them raising a hand to stop me. Their eyes narrow with suspicion.

“I just... I need some air,” I stammer, blinking back the tears threatening to fall. “I can’t... I just need a moment.”

They hesitate, exchanging glances. I break down, letting the tears flow freely.

“Please. Ezra... he’s—” I can’t even finish the sentence, my voice breaking. “I just need a minute.”

Reluctantly, they let me through. Once outside, the cold air hits me like a slap to the face. I glance around, searching for a car. My eyes land on an Audi parked near the gate.

I approach it quietly and reach out to pull the handle. I almost cry from relief when it opens. I get in, and reach for the ignition the same time I realize I don't have the keys.

Shit .

Then Harper’s voice floats into my mind, teasing and confident. She showed me how to hotwire a car once— a trick she learned from some guy she hooked up with. She thought it would be useful one day, but I never thought I’d actually ever need such a skill.

My fingers fumble as I pop open the panel beneath the dashboard. The wires are a mess, but Harper’s instructions echo in my mind, guiding me through the steps. It takes a minute, but the engine roars to life, and I pull away from the mansion, my heart racing.

At the gate, the guards stop me again. “Where are you going?” one asks, his hand resting on the handle of his gun.

“Medical supplies,” I lie through my teeth, keeping my face calm. “Ezra’s critical. We’re running low.”

“There are guards inside who can get that fo—”

“They’re busy helping the doctor! I know exactly what’s needed!” I yell, cutting him off. “Do you want to be the reason he dies?” I widen my eyes, daring him to argue.

I’m pretty sure I look unhinged at this point as I stare at their shocked faces. They hesitate for a few more seconds before scrabbling forward to get the gates open and let me through. Without wasting time, I slam on the accelerator and zoom away from the mansion.

Driving down the same route we’ve used to get into town twice before.

The mansion disappears in the rearview mirror. My hands are shaking again by the time I reach the retail pharmacy in the shopping district.

Most stores are closed down as I pull up by the side of the road. I scan the area, but the stranger is nowhere in sight. My heart sinks. Was this a mistake? Did I trust the wrong person?

A town car pulls up in front of me, the window rolling down just enough for the driver to gesture for me to get in. His blonde beard is unmistakable even in the dim streetlights. It’s him.

I get out of the Audi and slide into the backseat of the sedan, my breath catching in my throat as I shut the door.

“Smart choice,” the stranger says, from the front seat, his voice calm. “You’re finally looking out for yourself.”

As the car pulls away, I stare out the window, the events of the day replaying in my head. Ezra being carried into the stitch room, unconscious.

He's in a coma, Elio's words ring.

I'm doing this for the future of our child, I try to convince myself. The sight of him covered in blood resurfaces in my mind, and I squeeze my eyes shut.

Maybe I should’ve seen him one last time before leaving. Maybe I should’ve waited until he’s out of the coma. I'll get another chance to leave. And even if I don’t, I just want to make sure he’s fine first.

I nod to myself and open my eyes. My decision is made.

“Stop the car. I can’t do this today,” my voice shakes.

The stranger doesn’t respond. The doors suddenly lock with a sharp click, and a transparent barrier slides up, separating me from the front seat. My heart pounds in my chest, panic clawing at my throat.

“Excuse me, let me out!” I scream, banging on the thick glass. But it’s no use. The driver doesn’t even flinch.

Suddenly, something changes. The air feels thicker, suffocating, and a faint hissing fills the back seat. Confusion hits me first, followed by dread as the realization dawns on me. Gas.

Frantically, I claw at my throat, trying to block my nose and bang on the windows.

Suddenly, my arms feel heavy, too sluggish. The air is slipping away, my lungs begging for relief as darkness creeps in at the edges of my vision.

The last thing I see is the blonde driver's smirk in the rearview mirror before everything fades to black.