Six

Raven's POV

I couldn't breathe.

Again and again, the words on the paper swam together in my vision, as if maybe they would change. Marriage contract. Binding agreement. Marriage of Kade D’Angelo and Raven Statham.

My hands were shaking so much the paper rattled.

"This must be some kind of mistake," I whispered. "This can't be real. I was signing the bakery deal. Look, I'm supposed to sign that bakery partnership.”

Cameron snatched the paper from my shaking hands, her eyes flying across the page. Confusion turned to horror on her face in seconds.

"Oh my God. Raven, this is a marriage contract although. Here, right here, on the dotted line, and signed.”

My mom grabbed the papers from Cameron. She was reading silently, her lips murmuring. And when she glanced back at me, I thought it would be anger or shock or fear.

Instead, she smiled.

"This is wonderful," she said.

The roomful of people all turned to gape at her.

"Wonderful? No,” I said, hardly able to get the words out. “Mama, I mistakenly took a dangerous man’s marriage agreement. A criminal."

“A rich one,” she corrected, her eyes shining. "A powerful man. Do you know what the D'Angelo name means, Raven? The connections? The security? This solves all our problems."

"Them being in danger," Cameron snapped. “Aunt Linda this guy is suspected of being involved in some pretty illegal business. Raven can’t just marry this guy because he happens to be rich.”

My mother, on the other hand, just waved her hand. "Rumors. Everyone is always talking about strong men. The point is that this marriage would fix everything. He'd be no ways out by the bakery's debts. Your future would be secure."

I thought I might throw up. "I don't want to be secure. I want to be free. I don’t want to work for anyone else or live off anyone else.”

The room went silent.

Eric, who had remained silent up till this time, cleared his throat. “You know, Kade D’Angelo rumors are actually pretty thick. They call him the Reaper. He’s allegedly taken the lives of dozens.”

My vision swam. I put my hands on my face. "I saw him kill someone today. In the underground garage. Which was why I did that signing-without-reading thing. I was scared and he said if I signed the papers he would let me go and I just wanted to get away.”

"Wait." Cameron gripped my shoulders. "You witnessed a murder?"

I nodded, tears burning. "There was so much blood. And the guy was pleading and Kade just plunged a knife into him.” Like it was nothing."

There was a little cry of vexation from Priscilla. Aim appeared as if she might pass out. Eric rose and began to walk back and forth.

“Okay,” Cameron said. she was speaking steadily, but the fear in her eyes was real. “This agreement could be void. You signed under duress. There’s got to be a way to break this down.”

"There isn't."

The voice issued from the doorway.

We all jumped. A man stood there. Tall, thin, a boyish haircut and dark eyes that analyzed us in an instant. He wore an expensive suit.

"Who are you?" Eric demanded.

"Javier Reeve. Mr. D'Angelo's second in command." He held up both hands. "I ain't here to make no trouble. I'm here to deliver information."

"How did you get in?" I asked, my heart hammering.

"Your locks aren't very secure." He said it matter of factly. “The contract Miss Statham signed is absolutely legally binding. It was seen, laid on file, and recorded. It would have to be broken by Mr. D’Angelo’s agreement — which you wouldn’t get — or a legal battle that would take years and cost more than you have.”

"So I'm stuck?" My voice cracked.

Javier's expression softened slightly. "When you signed, you made a choice. You were supposed to read it."

"I was scared. I had just seen your boss kill a man.

"I'm aware. That was unfortunate timing." He took an envelope from his jacket. Here are the details for tomorrow’s ceremony. “The bride’s dress will arrive at six am. A car will be coming to get you at eight.”

I didn't take the envelope. I couldn't move.

Cameron took it instead. “But what if she doesn’t come?”

Javier's eyes met mine. "Then Mr. D'Angelo will pick her up himself. And that would be a lot more unpleasant for everyone involved.”

"Is that a threat?" Eric stepped forward.

"It's a fact." With that, he began to turn toward the door, then hesitated. ”For the record, Miss Statham, Mr. D’Angelo doesn’t harm women. He has plenty of failings, but abusing women isn’t among them. You'll be physically safe."

"What about emotionally?" I asked. “What about my whole life being stolen?”

Javier stared at me for a long time. "Welcome to our world. We will do everything to keep you alive and thriving. Survival is the best we can hope for.”

And then he slipped away as quietly as he had come.

The apartment erupted into chaos. Everyone shouting at once, panic and fury in every corner.

I stood motionless, holding the envelope that held notes for my own wedding.

My phone buzzed.

Unknown number.

I answered without thinking. "Hello?"

"Moya Ptichka." The voice of Kade spewed from the speaker like satin, and ice. “I assume Javier filled you in.”

I looked in the other direction from everyone else, speaking quietly. "Why are you doing this? If you desired a wife you could marry everyone. Why me?"

"Because you're convenient."

The bluntness hurt.

"I'm a person," I whispered. "Not a convenience."

″In my world, everyone is convenient until they’re not. You’d better hope you stay convenient for a long time.” He paused. "Sleep well, Raven. Tomorrow you become Mrs. D'Angelo."

He hung up.

Mrs. D'Angelo. The name seemed a life sentence.

Cameron touched my arm. “We’ll work our way through this.”

"No." My voice was hollow. "There's no way out."

My mother was already packing her clothes. Priscilla and Aim were crying. There was of Cameron and Eric, whispering like mad.

I went into my bedroom and shut the door, craving silence.

I sat on my bed and yanked out my father’s old recipe book from the nightstand, pressing it to my chest. The leather cover was old and soft beneath my fingers.

"I'm sorry, Dad," I whispered. "I tried to save the bakery. And now I'm trapped."

The book smelled of flour and vanilla, of home. I opened it gingerly, stroking his handwriting in the margins. Instructions. Tips. Little notes.

And then I noticed something that I had never seen before.

There in the corner of the sourdough starter recipe were numbers. Not measurements. Something else. They were almost like coordinates, or chemical notations. Strange symbols that didn't belong.

My heart started beating faster.

I flipped to the next recipe. More numbers in the margins. Different but similar in structure.

What were these?

I picked up my phone and kept photos of every page with unusual comments. Seven recipes had these symbols. All of them my father’s favorites.

Before I had a chance to ask, Cameron rapped at the door and stuck her head in.

"Hey. I'm staying tonight. I'm not leaving you alone."

I slammed the cookbook shut. "Thanks, Cam."

She got into bed with me, and we lay there in the dark not saying anything. I would never be the same after tomorrow.

I didn't sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, blood formed on concrete. I heard the wet sound of a knife drawing across flesh. I felt grey eyes watching me.

He was put in a cell and a little after 6 a.m. he got transom-knocked.

Cameron picked it up while I listened aghast.

She’s cowrote such jokes as “Delivery for Miss Statham,” delivered in a woman's chirpy voice.

The dress entered the room first. White silk, lace and stiflingly lovely. Then came shoes. Jewelry. A veil.

A squad of stylists arrived next, lugging gear into my small bathroom.

“We’re here to get the bride ready!” the head stylist chirped.

Bride. I wanted to scream at the word.

But I didn't scream. I didn't fight. I didn't run.

I let them dress me up like a doll. I had them do my hair and makeup. I allowed them to make me into someone whom I didn’t recognize.

When they were done I did not recognize myself. Beautiful. Perfect. Empty.

Cameron was next to me, tears flowing. "You look gorgeous, Rae."

“I look like I’m going to a funeral,” I whispered. "Mine."

It was on the stroke of eight and a black car drew up.

My mother leaned across and kised my cheek, stll smiling. Eric hugged me tightly and whispered, “You just say the word, I’ll drive you to the border.”

I almost said the word. But then I thought about Carter’s crushed hands. Regarding the red dot on his chest.

So I got in the car.

The drive took forty minutes. Forty minutes of watching the city go away behind me.

The estate was massive. More fortress than home. High walls. Security gates. Guards everywhere.

They took me to a small room where I was told to wait. I could hear people gathering on the other side of the door. Voices. Footsteps. The sound of a world I wasn’t part of.

A knock came.

"It's time," someone said.

Music started playing. Classical. Beautiful. Wrong.

The door opened.

I saw the aisle before me opening up like a road to hell… between all of those men who looked predatory and the females with cold, hard eyes.

And at the end was Kade D'Angelo who wore a black suit that made him look like death. His blue-tinted glasses caught the light, obscuring his eyes.

I took my first step.

Then my second.

That was when I spotted him in the back row. A man I’d never seen before but who set every instinct shouting peril. He was dark-haired with cruel eyes and a smile that seemed to promise violence.

He winked at me.

I tripped over the long hem of my dress and stumbled, just managing to catch myself before I flailed down.

His smile grew, as if my close brush with a fall had really amused him.

I didn't know who he was.

But I was 100 percent sure that he was going to burn it all down.