All Chapters of The Butcher's Bride: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Ravens povChapter Two: A Taste of His Own MedicineThe punching bag didn’t bleed, but I imagined it did.Sweat dripped from my brow as I slammed my fist into the heavy canvas again, then again, until the chains groaned and the ceiling trembled above me. My muscles burned, but not enough. Not enough to drown the rage surging in my veins like wildfire.“Your stance is wide,” came a familiar voice.“Come correct it, then.”I turned as Avery,one of our best foot soldiers and my favorite sparring partner,stepped into the ring. Tall, fast, and cocky as hell. Just how I liked my distractions.He grinned, tossing me a pair of gloves. “Thought you only beat up people for work.”“I make exceptions when I’m pissed off.”“That bad, huh?”“You’ve no idea.”We touched gloves. I let him land the first hit, just to give him hope. Then I danced backward, eyes locked on his chest. He jabbed, I ducked. He swung, I spun and cracked him across the jaw with a sharp left.He staggered. “Jesus.”“Come on,

Raven's POVChapter 4 – A Knife in the DarkThe 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 o

Raven's povChapter 6 – Red Flags and White LiesThe bass thudded in my skull, a pulse I couldn’t escape. Lights flashed across the club like warning signs, and I still can't shake the feeming thatsomething was off“Sienna,” I leaned toward her, raising my voice over the music. “We need to go.”She pouted, eyes glossy and unfocused. “But I just found a guy who looks like he owns a yacht…”I grabbed her arm. “Sienna. Now.”Her smile faltered. Maybe it was my tone. Maybe it was the look on my face. But she nodded, slow and hazy.I scanned the room as I reached into my clutch and dialed Marco.“Raven?” His voice was sharp, alert.“Come get us. Now.”He didn’t ask why. He never did.By the time the black SUV slid to a stop at the curb, Sienna was clinging to my shoulder like a sleepy cat. Her heels were in her hands, and she kept mumbling something about shots and betrayal. I didn’t push.“Where to?” Marco asked.“Vitali mansion.”He blinked at me in the rearview mirror. “Are you sure?”“

Chapter 8- Down belowRaven’s POVI sit on my bed, legs crossed, Sienna’s earring resting in my palm like a loaded gun.Ten minutes. That’s how long I’ve been waiting, and I know she’ll walk in any second now, lie cocked and ready on her tongue.Sienna’s always been a good liar.Right on cue, the door handle turns. She steps in, startled, eyes widening as she sees me.Her hair’s wet, makeup washed away, and her eyes,red-rimmed and guilty.“Hey, Ray,” she says softly, inching toward the bed and sitting beside me.“I woke up and saw you weren’t there,” she offers.“Your snoring was unbearable,” I deadpan.She lets out a nervous laugh, high-pitched and useless. It doesn’t cover the truth,nothing could.“I should get going. New shipment’s arriving today. I need to be there to take inventory.” She stands, heading to her bag on the vanity.Her back is to me, shoulders tense, fingers fumbling through the mess. I can practically feel the panic vibrating off her.Probably looking for something

Chapter 10 :The Price of ObedienceRaven’s POVI stare at myself in the mirror, unmoving.The dress clings to me like a second skin,black silk, slit high on one leg, the neckline plunging just enough to tempt, not beg. The kind of dress that whispers power but screams danger.My hair is slicked back into a low, glossy ponytail, exposing the curve of my neck and the thin diamond choker circling it like a collar. The earrings I chose,shards of obsidian,catch the light when I turn my head. My makeup is sharp, sculpted, and unapologetic. Red lips. Cold eyes. War paint.I look like a woman meant to be worshipped or feared.Preferably both.Still, I hate the way my stomach knots as I slip on my heels. Tonight isn’t about power. It’s about control.And I’m not the one holding the leash.The dining room glows with soft, golden light, the table dressed like we’re expecting royalty. Jack sits at the head, a fresh glass of scotch in his hand, face unreadable. Marcus lounges on one end, looking e