Chapter 4

Raven's POV

Chapter 4 – A Knife in the Dark

The room smelled like cigars and testosterone.

Which meant my father was already pissed.

He sat at the head of the long table in his private study, his fingers steepled beneath his chin, two of his best men flanking him like statues carved from violence. On the left was Matteo,dead-eyed, sharp as a razor.

On the right, Luca, built like a freight train and just as subtle. Marco leaned in the far corner, arms crossed, a scowl carved deep into his face.

Me? I was pacing.

“You sent me into that lion’s den with no warning, no backup, and a dress that practically screamed fuck me.” I stopped pacing long enough to throw my hands up. “Do you want me dead, or just humiliated?”

Jack Caruso didn’t even blink. “You’re still breathing. That means it went well.”

“Are you—” I cut myself off, biting down on the scream clawing its way up my throat. “You have no idea what kind of man Leon Vitali is.”

My father chuckled darkly. “Oh, I know exactly what kind of man he is. That’s why I picked you.”

Luca shifted his weight. Matteo lit a cigar. Neither looked at me.

I turned to Marco, the only person in the room who might still see me as more than a pawn. “Are you really okay with this?”

His jaw twitched, but he didn’t speak.

Didn’t meet my eyes.

Bastard.

"Look, I know i agreed to your crazy plan, but i don't want to be surprised, can we sit and talk properly about-"

“Enough.” My father’s voice cracked like a whip. “You’ll be moving into the Vitali mansion this week. Consider it a… prelude to your wedding vows.”

The words knocked the air out of me.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“You expect me to live with him?” i practically yell. "Without warnin? Without going over details?"

“Did I stutter?”

I stared at him, something primal roaring up inside me. “I’m not your fucking puppet.”

“You’re exactly that.” Jack stood now, slow and deliberate, the way a storm rises on the horizon. “You think because you’ve slit a few throats and played dress-up with blood that you’re untouchable? That you can defy me?” His voice was low, but it thundered through me.

“You’re strong, Raven. But your strength is mine. Your life is mine. You don’t forget that.”

I hated the way my body betrayed me,stiffening, shrinking, swallowing rage like it was acid and calling it respect. My fists clenched at my sides, but I didn’t move. Didn’t fight back.

He stepped close, brushed a strand of hair from my cheek like he hadn’t just gutted me with words. “You will move into that house. You will earn his trust. And you will remember who you belong to.”

His hand dropped. “Meeting over.”

No one argued. Not even me.

The next day, I stood in front of the Vitali gates like I was being marched to my own execution. My bag was light. My mind heavier than ever.

Inside, the manor was no less dramatic in the daylight. Stone and shadow and silent guards. A woman in heels and a tight black dress greeted me with a tight smile and a clipped accent. She didn’t introduce herself.

“Your wing is this way.”

My wing. I may hate the Vitalis but I have to admit they do scream luxury.

The room they gave me was too clean. Too elegant. Every corner screamed surveillance. I spotted three cameras before I’d even shut the door.

I unpacked quickly. Hid a knife under the mattress. Another inside the vanity drawer. Slid a third into the hem of a curtain. You know. Just in case hospitality turned into homicide.

Hours passed in silence. I ate nothing. I didn’t trust the food.

By nightfall, I was pacing again.

I needed to know this place. The layout. The vulnerabilities. The exits. I slipped out of my room barefoot, moving like a ghost in silk and shadows.

The east wing was quiet. I counted guards. Noted locked doors.

One in particular caught my eye , dark wood, reinforced frame, keypad lock. His office, maybe? I tried the handle. No give. A soft beep echoed when I touched the keypad.

“Wrong place to be snooping, don’t you think?”

I froze.

Leon Vitali stepped out of the dark like he was the dark,dressed in black, sleeves rolled, a glass of something expensive in one hand.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said coolly. “Thought I’d stretch my legs.”

He walked toward me, unhurried. “You’re clever, Raven. But this house is full of knives that don’t look like knives.”

I leaned back against the door, arms crossed. “So are you.”

He smirked. “You broke into a cartel leader’s estate in Mexico with nothing but a hairpin and a grudge. I didn’t think locked doors would stop you.”

“Then why leave them locked?”

“To see what you’d do.”

That again. The testing. The watching. The games.

“Careful, Leon,” I said softly. “You keep circling me like this, and one day I might bite.”

He stepped close, eyes glittering with something sharp and hungry. “Good. I’d hate for you to be boring.”

We stood there, inches apart. Neither backing down. Neither blinking.

Eventually, he tilted his head. “Go to bed, Raven. The house is alive at night, and not all its parts are friendly.”

I returned to my room ,eventually. Locking the door.

Sleep didn’t come easy.

Around three a.m., I found an envelope slipped beneath my door. Plain. Cream-colored. No seal.

Inside, a single note, written in careful, blocky letters:

They’ll kill you before the wedding. Watch the maid with the braid.

I stared at the words, heart a cold, heavy drum in my chest.

This wasn’t just about our plan anymore.

This was survival.