33. Raven

Chapter thirty-three

Raven

Thank goodness the guard didn’t return with the rope or tell Matteo about my little escape attempt. I’m sure the devil’s spawn would’ve been here already to wreak havoc.

Nevertheless, the rope digging into my wrists makes my muscles ache as I lay there, trying to ignore the pain. I’ve lost track of time— how long have I been tied up?

Surely the deadline given to Ezra hasn’t passed. Has it?

Just as doubt creeps in, I hear gunshots, sharp and loud, cutting through the air. My heart stops for a second, and I jump as the loud bangs reverberate through the silent night.

What’s happening?

I sit up, straining to hear anything, my mind racing with worry.

Suddenly, the door bursts open, and Matteo storms in, slamming it shut with a force that rattles the room. His eyes are wild and bloodshot. He’s completely unhinged, like he’s lost every bit of control.

I hold my breath as he advances; his fury is evident with each step. My throat goes dry. “Matteo—”

Before I can finish, he roughly pulls me off the bed, yanking me close, his hand around my arm in a vice grip. I feel the cold metal of a gun pressing against my skin, the barrel digging into my neck.

I freeze, my heart pounding loudly against my chest.

Panic surges as my hands instinctively move to my belly, shielding the one thing I care about most. My pulse races beneath Matteo’s crushing grip, sweat slicking my skin. I don’t dare move; the gun’s a cruel reminder that one wrong move could end everything.

The door swings open, and the guard, the one who switched sides, rushes in agitated. “They've got us surrounded.”

“Looks like your little boyfriend is here, bitch,” Matteo growls, his voice low and dangerous. “Are the men in place, Antonio?”

I glance at Ezra’s man, who nods his head in affirmation, an anticipatory smirk tugging at his lips. “They are.”

The wicked glint in his eyes tells me everything; whatever plan he’d set in motion was anything but good. Just then, the door bursts open again, and I see him. Ezra!

My heart leaps, relief washing over me briefly. It quickly vanishes when Matteo’s grip tightens around me.

“Drop your gun,” Matteo snaps, his voice sharp and filled with rage.

Ezra steps in, his expression tight. He glances around shortly before turning his attention to Matteo.

I notice the tension in his stance, the clenching of his jaw, but he doesn’t say anything. He remains calm, trying to stay in control.

“I said drop the fucking gun!” Matteo shakes with rage as he yells and presses the gun harder against my neck, making my heart drop to my stomach.

Ezra’s gun clatters to the floor, raising his hands in surrender. His eyes shift to the guard, and the surprise flickers in his eyes.

“Antonio, what the hell?” Ezra’s voice falters as he tries to process the betrayal, glancing between the two men.

Matteo chuckles darkly. “Meet my little whisperer whom I no longer have use for.”

The cold muzzle of the gun leaves my skin for a split second, followed by the deafening bang of a gunshot.

I jump, the sound dangerously close. The gun is back on my skin before I know it. My eyes drift to the side, and I bite down hard on my lips to stifle a cry when I see the guard lying lifeless on the ground.

“She’s next,” the sick bastard declares.

Ezra's expression hardens, his focus shifting from the guard back to Matteo. “Matteo.” His voice is steady but firm. “Let her go.”

Matteo lets out a harsh, bitter laugh that sends chills down my spine. “Let her go? After everything? You really think it’s that simple?” His breath is hot against my neck, and I flinch as the gun digs deeper into my skin. “Do you know the work I put in for this?”

Ezra’s eyes darken with anger, and he steps forward slightly, his gaze locked on Matteo. “We can still walk away from this, Matteo. Let’s talk it through.”

“Talk?” Matteo snarls. His grip on me tightens even more, drawing a gasp from my lips. “You want to talk now? After what you did? After everything I’ve done?” His voice rises, venom dripping from each word. “I didn’t orchestrate the border restrictions, the warehouse attack, or even the moles in your cartel just to chat!”

Ezra’s expression hardens. My heart aches when I see the hurt in his eyes, but he remains calm and presses on. “It doesn’t have to end like this.”

Matteo snarls, the sound icy and bitter. “Oh, it does. Maybe I’m crazy, but it’s what ten years of literally being fucked in the ass as a slave does. It’s what years of being tortured to near death only to be brought back does. You know, the only thing that kept me going those times was the thought of revenge.” He leans closer, the gun digging into the side of my neck. Ezra’s eyes flit to me and his jaw tightens.

“You brought it upon yourself when you decided to deal with the Americans, Matteo. I had principles, and part of that was to never deal with them.”

“Shut the fuck up. You were a fucking imbecile. Abiding by your stupid principles— that was getting the mafia nowhere,” Matteo starts, his dry chuckle resonating through the room. “That deal with the Americans was me doing what you didn’t have the balls to!”

I see Ezra’s nostrils flare before he squeezes his fist. “Don’t you dare pin it on me, Matteo,” he grits, his voice straining as he continues. “You were fucking greedy. You started to crave a larger share of the profits. You were a greedy and power-hungry bastard, so don’t fucking tell me that you were doing what I couldn’t.”

He takes a step forward, but when Matteo’s grip on the gun tightens, he stops, eyes flitting to mine again. This time, they linger a little longer than the last, and there’s a subtle nod before he faces Matteo. Somehow, I understand what he wants me to do.

He takes another step forward, his voice softening considerably. “What you never understood was that those stupid principles I operated by helped bring the cartel to where it is now. You just weren’t patient enough to understand it.”

“No!” Matteo growls, and I feel his grip on the gun slightly shift away from my neck. “You fucking turned your back on me when I needed you most. You sold me out. I wished death upon myself every time I was with my godforsaken masters.”

“You were my second in command, my friend. Matteo, please. I still don’t know why it has to end this way.”

“End this way?” Matteo releases a long laugh, his hand shaking against my skin. “I’ve had all of this planned out since I managed to find my way out of being a slave. It took many years to craft my perfect revenge plan. I found a way to break Russo out of prison and keep him out long enough to bait you. I infiltrated the media to put you on edge with the news, I orchestrated the intercepted shipment that evening and deliberately used Raven as a pawn, I planted moles in your cartel, sent the hitman to the mansion, and even planted Frank.”

Ezra inhales sharply, and I do, too.

“...I wanted to fuck with your head…to confuse and frustrate you…to break you then kill you. I wanted you to feel every bit of mental torture I went through. Why just take your life when I can first take every single thing you love ?like your woman and your cartel.”

“See, I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Matteo ignores his threat, his voice laced with dark amusement. “I knew you wouldn’t send the documents and would show up here to play the hero, so I arranged a little surprise for you.”

As soon as he finishes speaking, I pick out a series of gunfire erupting somewhere in the building. Unlike the first time, these shots don’t cease.

“Boss, can you hear me?” a voice crackles from somewhere nearby.

Ezra reaches for his pocket, and Matteo laughs. “You should get that.”

Ezra takes out a walkie-talkie. He presses a button, his tone sharp. “Elio, what’s going on?”

“Sudden ambush, open fire on all sides. That’s not the worst of it.” Elio’s voice pushes through a background of heavy gunshots that makes me wince. “The mansion is under attack,” Ezra’s hard eyes flicker to Matteo, and I swallow hard, “our men are pinned down, and they’re taking serious fire as well.”

The walkie-talkie is silent for a second before Elio’s voice floats out again. “We’re cut off, Boss. We can’t send backup.”

Matteo’s laugh is unsettling, slicing through the silence that follows. “Enjoying my little surprise, Ezra?”

Ezra’s grip tightens against the walkie-talkie. “Matteo…” he murmurs, his tone dangerous as he chucks the device back into his pocket.

Matteo’s grin widens. “I wanted to bring you out of your mansion. I knew you’d come with your most powerful men and leave your mansion vulnerable. You see, I want to take over. All these years, I’ve been building my own army of loyalists. It’s finally time to be king. Once I kill you, I will wipe out all of your fucking men in all of your establishments.”

“But you had the chance to attack while I was in a coma. Why didn’t you then?” Ezra asks through gritted teeth.

Matteo mocks in a sickly sweet voice, “What’s the fun in killing a half-dead man? Where’s dignity in that? You still don’t understand. Everything I’ve done is to make you feel what I felt...to make you be at my mercy just like I was at yours fifteen years ago.”

“And that includes…” he pauses, letting the silence thicken, “...killing this bitch and your little bastard inside her, right in front of you.”

My heart stops while the weight of his words settles in. My eyes dart around the bare space, searching for a way out. I refuse to die a sitting duck.

I feel the gun shift from my neck. From the corner of my eye, I see Matteo’s hand move in slow motion, angling his gun towards Ezra.

This is my chance.

Acting on instinct, I turn around and drive my knee into Matteo’s groin with all the strength I can muster. He lets out a pained gasp, doubling over and loosening his grip on both me and the gun.

In an instant, Ezra moves like lightning, dropping to the floor and scooping up his gun in one fluid motion. I crouch and cover my ears as Ezra aims at Matteo and fires without hesitation.

The shot reverberates, echoing in the confined space. I turn to see Matteo stumble back, clutching his side as blood seeps through his fingers before he falls to the floor.

Without thinking, I scramble toward Ezra, and he drapes his arms around me firmly.

“Are you okay, baby? Did he hurt you?” he asks, softly, his eyes raking over me. When they land on my busted lips, his eyes darken.

“I’m fine.” I shake my head vigorously, my bound palms coming up to cup his face. My breath, once shallow and ragged, comes out in a long, shaky exhale as the realization hits— he's okay. He's alive.

We should get the hell out of here.

But then, Ezra rises and strides over to Matteo, gripping his shirt and lifting him just enough to drive a hard punch across his face, the crack of bone against skin filling the room. Matteo’s head snaps back, a groan escaping his now blooded lip.

“That’s for threatening my Raven and my child,” Ezra snarls, and warmth stirs in my chest despite everything. He punches Matteo again, this time harsher. “And that’s for endangering my family.”

Ezra’s grip tightens, pulling Matteo closer as his head droops, barely held up. The only sounds are their breaths—one furious, the other labored— and distant gunfire.

“Call it off.” Ezra’s fist crashes down again. “Call off the damn attack!”

Ezra’s punches come in quick, relentless succession, but Matteo only laughs, a mad, hollow sound filling the space.

“Boss, it’s no use,” a voice says from the doorway. One of Ezra’s guards steps inside. “We have to get out there and support our men.”

Ezra pauses, releasing Matteo’s shirt and turning toward me. As he reaches me, he pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly. When we pull apart, my eyes fall to his hand, his knuckles raw and bloodied.

“Does it hurt?” I whisper, gently taking his hand in mine.

A faint smile tugs at his lips. “No, I’m fine,” he says, shooting Matteo a seething glare.

I lift my gaze to his, and in that moment, I catch his eyes widening. He freezes, staring past me. I follow his line of sight, twisting around just in time to see Matteo raise his gun, the barrel pointing straight at me.

Time slows, turning into a blur as my heart slams against my ribs. I’m unable to move. But Ezra does.

He instantly shoves me aside just as Matteo pulls the trigger. The gunshot rings in my ears, and I scream as Ezra staggers back, a pained expression crossing his face.

No!

“Ezra!” my voice cracks, and I lunge toward him, hands trembling.

Panic grips me when I see the blood on his left shoulder until I see it’s just a graze. My heart suddenly slows, and the tension begins to melt away. Relief washes over me, but it’s short-lived as another gunshot echoes, and I yelp in fear.

I whip around to the door, where Ezra’s guard stands, his gun still smoking. His aim is locked on something behind me.

I quickly look back, just in time to see Matteo’s head snap backwards, blood splattering across the room. He crumples to the floor, his body limp with a bullet hole punched clean through his forehead.

Blood pools around him, his eyes wide and lifeless. I swallow thickly, forcing the bile down my throat. This is the end…

Feeling a sudden tug on my hand, I snap back to reality. Ezra is kneeling in front of me, his face twisted in pain as he slices through the ropes binding my wrists.

The ropes fall away, revealing angry red bruises on my skin. Ezra grinds his teeth at the sight. “You’re okay,” he breathes, his voice strained as he rubs soothing strokes down my shoulders.

That’s all it takes for the tears to spill as the sheer weight of everything lifts from my chest.

He pulls me close, wrapping his arms around me. For the first time in days, the tight knot of dread in my stomach slowly unwinds, replaced by a warmth only being with Ezra brings.

With one arm wrapped securely around me, Ezra lifts me into his arms, carrying me in a smooth, effortless motion out of the musty basement.

We move down the hallway where I’d once tried to escape, turning left before reaching a stairway leading up. So, I’d been in a basement this whole time.

As we emerge, the gunfire sounds sharper, echoing through the space. Ezra’s five guards fan out in a protective formation, two staying close behind us while three lead the way, their weapons poised and ready, scanning every direction.

At the corner where the gunfire intensifies, the guards at the front pause.

“Boss, it looks like Elio and his men have Matteo’s guys contained around here,” one of the guards murmurs to Ezra.

Ezra nods and gently sets me down. “Stay here. I’ll come back for you,” he cups my cheeks as he speaks.

I nod in response as I turn my head slightly, and place a kiss on his palm. He points at one of his guards behind us.

“You, stay with her. Protect her with your life,” he commands. The guard nods, firm and ready.

With a quick signal, Ezra and the other guards slip around the corner. Within seconds, the gunfire erupts louder, more intense. I inch forward, peeking around the corner, but the guard by my side steps forward.

“I wouldn’t suggest that,” he warns from behind.

However, I pay him no attention, my gaze fixed on Ezra. He’s crouched behind a couch in the living room, rising just enough to fire. I can’t see who he’s aiming at, but each time he pulls the trigger, I watch the bullets fly from his gun, his face tense and unyielding.

Then, silence. The gunshots finally stop, and Ezra stands, surveying the area with a hard look that makes my heart race.

“Boss, I think we got them all,” Elio calls out. “The coast is clear.”

Ezra doesn’t even flinch. “What’s the situation at the mansion?” he asks, his tone sharp as I step forward, drawn by the relief of seeing him safe.

Matteo’s threat about attacking the mansion rushes back to me.

“The chaos has settled a bit,” Elio replies grimly, his expression hard as I come up beside Ezra. “Only three men made it out alive though.”

A flash of pain crosses Ezra’s face, and I reach around him, my hand resting on his waist in quiet reassurance.

He nods to Elio and instructs him, “Go with the men. Get me a full report on the mansion,” and with that, he effortlessly sweeps me off my feet once more, carrying me bridal style out of the musty room.

I glance at his face, “Where are we going?”

“To a different mansion that’ll shelter us for now,” he replies, stepping into the open air.

“It’s over,” he whispers, his lips pressing against my hair as I melt into his embrace. “You’re safe.”

“I’m safe,” I repeat, quietly, before he brings a hand to wipe my cheeks.

I rest my head against his chest and listen to the steady beat of his heart. Even as he carries me, guilt gnaws at me, slowly rising from the pit of my stomach and eating away at me. I ran. I left him behind in his most vulnerable moment ?while he barely clung to life? thinking only of myself.

“Ezra, I’m sorry,” I start to say, my voice barely a whisper. “I shouldn't have run…”

Before I can finish, his lips crash against mine, cutting me off. He stops walking and my eyes flutter shut almost immediately as I kiss him back with as much intensity. It’s soft and tender— different from the hot need-to-make-love kisses we’ve shared before. This one feels…gentle… comforting.

When he pulls away, his gaze is tender.

I exhale shakily, staring up at him as he starts walking again, holding me close.