Page 6 of Under His Protection

But the warmth of my thoughts quickly fades, replaced by a shadow of doubt, like a rogue inkblot. What was it about his family that he wanted to tell me? I can’t shake his words. They’re like a prickly thorn nestled in the rose garden.

A familiar face appears at my office door. “Hey, Ava,” Dorthea says, “What’s going on?”

I force a smile, focusing on Dorthea’s blue highlights and subtle wrinkles. “Just the campaign, I guess.” I turn my attention to the screen, but the colors feel flat, the textures lifeless.

She moves closer. “You’ll solve it. You always do,” Dorthea says, her hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

My nod is almost involuntary, and my gaze is drawn to a figure walking past my office. The sight of him makes my jaw clench, a familiar tightness constricting my throat. Dorthea, with her sharp eyes, notices him, too.

“That Cole,” Dorthea says, “You know? He’s actually turned into a decent human being. Who would’ve thought?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s blossomed,” I reply, my sarcasm biting. “Cole Cohan. A regular mother Theresa. You must be jokin’ Dorthea?”

Fucking assault-Cole.

I remember Cole’s touch, the way his fingers grazed my skin, the way his eyes glinted with a cruel pleasure as he ran his fingers up my thigh. Cold fear claws its way back, freezing me in place. I remember the powerlessness I’d felt as he slipped his rough fingers inside me, his words a bitter echo in my mind: “You look so good when you’re afraid.”

Snap out of it, Ava.

“He raised my salary a few months ago, and I heard he started a charity for women, a shelter of sorts,” she continues.

What is this upside-down world?

I widen my eyes, drawing them away from my screen. “Another joke?”

Dorthea shakes her head, her wild curls bobbing as she glances at my screen, “I like what you’re doing with the colors.”

My eyes flicker to a point on the screen, a splash of crimson red, a color that makes my breath catch in my throat. My body stiffens as the memory works its way into my consciousness, sharp and unwelcome. The memory of Mendel dying in Alexander’s arms, the blood running down his stomach, staining the pavement red. Crimson red.

“It’s a challenging brief,” I manage in a strained voice. I try to force a smile and erase the memory, but the chill remains.

Dorthea continues to chat about upcoming design projects. She’s like a hummingbird, flitting from one project to the next, her energy boundless. I find myself both drawn to and intimidated by her vibrant chaos.

A tall, blond figure enters my office, his eyes twinkling with playful mischief.

“Hey, beautiful,” Mark says, his smile a dazzling white against his tanned features. His eyes are iron-locked on Dorthea. “You look busy.”

“Oh, you know how it is, Mark. Deadline pressure,” Dorthea says, tilting her head and winking at him.

He enters, his broad shoulders filling the doorway, towering over her. “You know, I could always help you with that pressure.”

“Thanks for the offer, Mark,” she replies, laughing and throwing her head back. She’s twenty years his senior, but he’s her latest “boy toy,” and it seems to make her happy.

I turn to my screen as they slip out of the room, giggling like love-sick teenagers. I try to refocus on the design project, but the Raven’s threat from last night surfaces, a dark cloud hovering over my mind.

Is Alexander right? Should we leave Port Haven?

The Raven is like a ghost, a phantom haunting the city. He pulls strings, but nobody knows who he is or what he truly wants. Port Haven hasn’t always been a place where shadows lurk, and for a year, it was semi-quiet. But now it has become a smuggling hub, a haven for the outcasts and the outlaws. And the old Veles Network, perhaps led by the Raven, has taken crime to a new level.

My chest tightens, a knot twisting in my stomach. Leaving this city feels like betraying everything Mom and Dad built, everything I am. I can still see John and Elaine Parker— their names whispered together— in the paintings my mother made, the laughter echoing in our tiny apartment, and their faces in the family photos. I remember Dad's hands, calloused and warm, cooking us dinner in the kitchen, his eyes twinkling as he looked at us. I'll never forget the feeling of coming home after a long day, their love wrapping around me. That tiny apartment was more than just a place— it was a haven, a love that will never fade.

But are you willing to pay with your life to stay here, Ava?

I take a deep breath and narrow my eyes. A newfound determination takes hold, seeping through my veins.

This city is mine, and I won’t be driven away.

The idea of confronting the Raven takes root in my mind, just as I told Alexander last night. I need to know more about him. I open a new browser window and type “The Raven,” but I feel stupid. Why would he be online? He’s a ghost, a man who operates in the shadows. I’m being ridiculous.

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