Page 25 of Raven

“You can’t. I can see that.”

His eyes give a dangerous sparkle—he didn’t like that comment.

“Our concerns are not so much about what they do,” I lie, “but the fact that if it starts jeopardizing our people, we’ll have to cut Port Mrei’s access to the shipments that arrive at the port.”

Butcher nods, not breaking his eye contact with me. “Do you remember our mutual acquaintance, Mr. Aleksei Tsariuk? He made some inquiries here some time ago.”

Oh, that is clever. Tsariuk is not an acquaintance, and this is the first time Butcher has alluded to being in contact with him.

“He purchased the island next door,” Butcher says.

This is news that definitely complicates things, considering that island is only forty or so miles from here.

“That island has nothing to do with Zion,” I say. “Nor can they legally request access to our port.”

“They can’t. Not yet.” Butcher nods with a little smirk. “But they are getting connections to the mainland.”

I know where this is going.

“I am very content with our Zion setup, Raven,” he says. “But if the ruling party were to change on this island, Ayana specifically, and the port, of course, Tsariuk would surely make a deal with someone willing to be more cooperative. And by then, he would have all the necessary connections on the mainland to keep Zion operating as it always has.”

I don’t respond, only feel the heaviness of the gun tucked under my belt. I would love to shoot this guy in the face.

“Everything stays the same right now, of course,” Butcher says with a hint of danger in his voice.

Finally, for the first time, he cleverly expresses something that I’ve known for the longest time.

He repeats it, slowly, tasting every word, “I am merely talking about a scenario if something were to happen to the men in charge of Ayana.”

Finally, he indirectly made a threat on my life.

10

MADDY

“Maddy, do you feel like watching brutal men fight?” Kat asks on the phone.

What an odd question. “What are we talking about?”

“Carnage.”

Carnage is a fight club located past the Diggs, the guards’ quarters. It’s the middle territory between Ayana and Port Mrei. It’s mutual entertainment where the Ayana and Port Mrei’s toughest arrange no-rule fighting matches.

Before I say anything, she adds, “Raven is fighting tonight. Archer wants to go. I want to go, too. We are taking a dozen security guards, besides the ones who are usually on shift there.”

Every time Raven’s name is mentioned, I curiously latch onto the information. There is no point denying that Raven piques my interest like no other. We made a deal. He thinks that he will simply take what he wants and that will be the end of it. But I’m invested. I’ve dealt with men like him before, and there is nothing more empowering than bringing those men to their knees.

Since the deal, Raven is a constant in my thoughts. His steely-blue eyes haunt me, the way they narrowed on me yesterday, from a distance, when he leaned against his bike, a cigarette hanging between his lips as he watched me leave work.

I notice him around a lot lately.

He’s been burned, cut, stabbed, betrayed, dragged through mud, and he came back from it. He’s the worst type, whose trauma lives under his skin, but he grows a second skin so thick that nothing cuts through it anymore.

I’ve seen his type before—back home, among my father’s men. The ones who don’t have anything because they don’t want to have anything to lose. They try the hardest to make it to the top, then kick the chair from under their own feet on purpose, because life for them is a rollercoaster, and they hold control. Men like that rarely value much. Even life. But they can be loyal, and they value loyalty in other people.

Raven is of average build, not much taller than me, but rumor has it that he is quite impressive in the octagon. I want to see him fight. Besides that, I want another chance to see Raven shirtless.

“Yeah, that will be a change of pace, I guess,” I say coyly on the phone.

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