Page 14 of Victorious Vice

“Mr. Agudelo would like you to join him for lunch at one o’clock,” he says.

“Yes, I know.Gracias.”

Morehouse nods and exits.

I turn back to the documents, scanning through until my eyes catch on an encrypted message between Agudelo and an unnamed source, dated two weeks ago. It mentions an “Operation Falcon.”

No.

No. It can’t be.

Falcon can mean anything. A bird of prey can be a metaphor for an action, a plan, a person. As doctors say, when you hear hoofbeats think horses, not zebras.

But I can’t shake the feeling.

Because in my world, Falcon has only one meaning—Raven’s brother.

Falcon Bellamy.

5

RAVEN

Imanage to get through the rest of the night without more nightmares—but only because I don’t sleep.

I finally trudge out of bed at eight a.m., grab a quick shower, and head to the kitchen to make a pot of coffee.

Jared appears five minutes later.

“You’re supposed to knock when you rise,” he says.

I start the coffeemaker. “I thought I’d let you sleep.”

“I’m not here to sleep.” He rubs at his forehead. “You know the drill, Raven.”

I sigh. “Yeah. I know. I’m going to try to set up a meeting with a new attorney today. I want to get right back to working on my nonprofit.”

“Are you sure? After what happened with your last attorney?”

Like he needs to remind me.

“Yes,” I say, pouring the steaming coffee into the mugs on the counter. “I can’t afford to be passive anymore. Not after all that’s happened.”

Jared looks at me, his usually stern expression softening. He reaches out and grabs a mug, sipping the liquid and wincing at its heat.

“You’re a fighter, Raven,” he says. “But remember, you’re also a survivor. You don’t always have to be on the offense.”

His words are sincere, but they irritate me. How can Inotfight? Vinnie is gone, and I may never see him again. God knows what he’s doing in Colombia for his grandfather. My last attorney was murdered. My brothers have gotten in over their heads, and I’m getting texts warning that I’m in danger.

But damn it, I just beat cancer’s ass, and I’m going to get this nonprofit up and running. Beginning with the big gala in a couple weeks.

“I appreciate the sentiment, Jared.” I force a smile onto my face. “But I have to focus on something I believe in. If I don’t, I’ll be focusing on all the shit.”

Jared nods, his gaze intense. “Just remember you have people who care about you. People who want to help.”

I hear his words—I do—but they don’t sink in. It’s a familiar talk—the one where everyone subtly tries to convince me to step back, take a breather. But how can I? When there’s so much at stake?

Before I can answer, the ring of my cell gives me a welcome interruption. With a sigh, I walk over and pick it up.

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