Raven stood at the long table, staring at the glowing feeds, and the fire in her veins wouldn't settle.
Her hand pressed low on her belly where the lingering soreness from two nights ago pulled like a bruise she hadn't earned. Vincent's low promise echoed in her head, "Two nights ago was only the beginning." The way his thumb had stroked her hip, reminding her exactly how he'd claimed her, it made that dull ache throb even now, shame and heat twisting together until she wanted to scream.
She hated how her body remembered him. She hated how the word "wife" sat heavy on her chest like a brand.
But the feeds on every screen had drowned everything else out.
Another warehouse torched. Two more scouts gone, probably carved up and left for the rats. Caruso's statement blasting everywhere: "the De Luca whore." A bounty so high that even loyal dogs were starting to sniff around.
Her hands shook at her sides. The ring on her left finger felt like lead dragging her down.
