7. Raven

Chapter seven

Raven

I pace the length of the room, glaring at the locked door. Every time I think about Ezra’s fingers brushing against my skin, my body betrays me.

A shiver runs down my spine, completely uninvited.

Get a grip, Raven! I mentally yell at myself, annoyed that I’m even feeling this way. I must be losing my mind.

How can I possibly be turned on by someone like him? I’m supposed to hate him…his guts. Yet, all I can think about is how warm his hands felt and the way my heart raced when he….

Fuck . This is ridiculous. I rub my temples, trying to focus.

This wasn’t the plan. All of these feelings. I’d intended to seduce him and then… and then threaten him with a nail I’d found in the picture frame.

My shoulders sag. It was obviously a stupid plan. I should have known it was a foolish attempt, especially towards a don.

A sigh resonates through the room when I plop down on the edge of the bed. As I sit and stare into space, the only thing that comes to my mind is how to escape. No matter how hard I try, I just can’t bring myself to accept that this is my reality.

I just can’t. I have a good life outside of here. A loving best friend, friendly bosses, and colleagues. It isn’t perfect, but it’s more than enough drive to want to leave. That and the asshole don.

I wonder how Harper is faring. Whether she thinks I’m dead or not. I wonder if the cops are already searching for me. I wonder what Mom would do if she was still here. I wonder if Dad ever thinks of me…

Suddenly, there’s a gaping hole in my chest. It’s like my ribcage is squeezing against my heart. That’s how I feel anytime I think about him.

Most times, I try not to overthink his absence. According to Harper, my dad’s absence had nothing to do with me. But what if it did?

I still don’t know why he left. But he probably left because he didn’t love me enough to stay. Or he didn’t love me at all, and all the gifts, night hugs, and forehead kisses were just a facade.

As far as I can remember, their marriage was never faulty. They were the perfect couple, and we were the perfect family. Then Mom died, and years later, he just…. disappeared.

Honestly, I’d seen the signs. But I chose to remain blind to them, attributing his late nights out to work when we both knew it was a lie. He was a construction worker; he rarely worked late nights.

But maybe I should be grateful that he didn’t abandon me when I was little. At least he waited until I was a legal adult before he absconded. Tears prick my eyes when I recall the struggle through college.

Being a medical student and combining multiple shifts wasn’t easy, but I eventually pulled through.

The events, as unfortunate as they were, made me who I am. It made me strong. And I have to remain so to get out of here.

My eyes flit around the room, searching for anything that might help. The window is locked, I’ve tried that. Even if it wasn’t, there was no way I could climb down. The mansion has no extensions… no balconies, or anything of the like.

The other option I have is the door. But even a mad person wouldn’t attempt that… for two reasons. One, the door is locked. It automatically jams when anyone leaves, and it doesn’t open from the inside. Two, even if I successfully use a hairpin to unlock the door, there are guards outside… and beyond.

Maneuvering two people is one thing. But maneuvering a multitude of guards? I obviously stand no chance.

Still, I have to try something. Damn, I hate being stuck. Just as I release a disgruntled groan, I hear the familiar click of the door unlocking.

My whole body goes on high alert. I jump to my feet, ready. If Ezra has come to inflict punishment for disobeying–

My thoughts are cut short when the door creaks open, and it’s not Ezra. A different man steps in. He’s shorter, with darker, tanned skin. Deep frown lines etch the space between his brows.

I don’t say anything and observe him. His aura seems different. Dark and intimidating, unlike the other guards that bring me food.

That's enough for me to know he isn’t a guard. Scanning his entire frame, I see he’s holding a large suitcase in his hand. I furrow my brow at this.

“Boss asked me to drop this off,” he says, in a flat, gruff voice. Then he drops the suitcase on the bed.

Before I can get a word in, the door slams shut behind him, and I hear the lock click again.

Well, that was unexpected.

I eye the suitcase on the bed warily as I slowly inch toward it. It has a sleek, velvety exterior, purple and laced with streaks of blinking stones. I’m suddenly apprehensive.

This isn’t what I expect just after attempting you-know-what on Ezra. But curiosity gets the best of me and I unzip the suitcase.

My eyes widen when I look inside. There’s clothing of different colors and patterns along with hygiene products. I hold my breath as I let the plush velvet lining soothe my eyes. I bring my hand to touch them. From how soft they feel, I can tell they’re expensive– designer silk dresses, delicate blouses, and… underwear.

Oh …

I bring a bra out and see that it’s my perfect size. How did he–

Of course he knows my size. He knows more than my size.

The apparel all smells faintly of a floral perfume, the kind that lingers long after a shower. I pull out a nightdress and hold it up, the bright lights bouncing off the burgundy satin material. Way too luxurious for me.

Confusion slowly sets in. If Ezra sent this then does that mean he’s forgiven m–

No. I quickly curb my thoughts with a vigorous shake of my head. I don’t need his forgiveness….

What I need is therapy…because I’m slowly losing it.