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Since she got here, we’ve constantly tried to take charge, make the final decisions and demand to be let in on her next move before it was made.
Not today.
Today, we’re her back up, her armor. Any move she makes, we’ll match ten fucking fold. We underestimated her once and quickly learned how wrong the move was. Never again.
She’s brave, bold. Beautiful. Fearless and capable. She’s the fiercest fucking thing this town has ever seen, and exactly what it needed. What we needed.
What I need.
We’re pulling up at the building too fucking quick and unease swims in my gut. The last thing I want to do is allow her to walk into fire, but Raven asks for no permission. All we can do is stand beside her, have her back.
She’s out of the car before the engine is off and we fly out with her.
She spins, her eyes on the others pulling in right behind us.
Bass, Victoria, and our dad step out.
“I thought Mac was coming?” Raven asks, suspicious.
Victoria’s eyes slide to Captain before moving back. “He’ll be here, dropping off Chloe on the way.”
Raven spins on her heels and without a word spoken, the security at the door steps aside.
She walks straight through, leading us – me at her back, Cap and Royce beside me, our dad, Bishop, and Victoria behind us.
“Donley,” she calls sweetly before our feet even hit the floor, and all heads jerk our way.
He starts to shoot to his feet, but calms himself, sitting back instead. “Raven.” His eyes move to me at her back and narrow before shifting to Captain. “Captain, good to see you, son.”
“I’m not your son.”
His face grows taut. “I was informed you were injured, I came here to relay the message, let them know we still stood strong and that I was here if needed.”
The men in this room are smart, and questioning eyes began to roam, but Raven doesn’t give them time to decide what to ask.
“My name is Raven Brayshaw.”
Eyes narrow, some lean closer in their seats, Royce and Cap stare unsure and Rolland’s lips tighten. Everyone knows who she is, but curiosity keeps their mouths closed and eyes intent.
“Like Captain, my choice was taken from me.”
Donley frowns, trying to gauge her. ‘Course he’s not smart enough to stay quiet.
“No one is questioning your status, Raven. We are aware, and I made sure all assets you were due have been signed over.”
“They have,” she agrees. “Financially.”
Our dad’s stance widens.
Donley’s eyes narrow. “What does that mean, exactly?”
“It means you’re sitting in a seat that doesn’t belong to you.”
“This seat,” he counters. “As per our agreement, belongs to a Graven. I am Graven.”
“And I’m not?” she shoots back instantly.
He balks. “Not until you give me that video you’re not.”
Cap and I share a subtle look.
“Tell me, Donley, did she scream?”
His eyes flash with what I interpret as understanding, his grip tightening on the red suede.
“What is this?” the head of the Greyson family asks lowly.
Raven ignores the guy, speaking directly to Donley again. “Get out of the chair, Graven.”
“That chair belongs to the head of—”
“And I’m the head of two,” she cuts Romero Hacienda off. “That’s more than any of you can say.”
They glare but don’t argue.
Her eyes go back to Donley, but she speaks to the others. “Nineteen years ago my mother was promised to Felix Graven, but they never made it to their wedding. Donley Graven—”
Suddenly, Donley, jolts from the seat, flying at her only to be caught behind the thigh by our dad.
Every person in the room is on their feet in seconds, watching as Donley falls to his knees.
It takes everything in me to stay planted where I am, but Raven doesn’t so much as flinch through the entire thing.
“I see you haven’t changed. Nineteen years later and you still think you’re allowed to put your hands on a female?”
He attempts to get up, but when we all take a step closer, he thinks better of it.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” he growls, his chin lifted. “There is still time for you to walk away. Give me the video I asked you for, let Captain sit, and we forget all about this.”
“And give you a victory you’ve waited years for? I don’t think so, and there is no fucking video.” His eyes slim in anger, but he had to of figured as much. “So, you can threaten me all you want, Donley, but I have no soft spots for you to prey on.”
“Sweet Brayshaw princess,” he spits. “You have a weakness. They are your weakness.”
She gets in his face, her teeth bared for all to see. Her eyes cut to mine briefly before she growls, “They don’t make me weak, Graven. They make me unstoppable.”
In one swift motion, she pulls her knife from her skirt, flips it open and holds it backward, under his neck.
