Later that morning, while she was getting out of the shower, Raven heard the sound of Jaxon’s voice, not soft or soothing, but low, clipped, purposeful. He was on the phone, speaking in the language of power, not comfort.
“Dubai will confirm by noon. Make sure our end is ready,” he said, pacing the length of the room, shoulders drawn tight. “If they hesitate, remind them of what happened to Salvi’s shipment last spring. No loose ends.”
Raven stayed stayed the the bathroom, lingering a little while longer while she listened to the weight in his tone, each word cutting clean. This wasn’t the Jaxon who had held her through the night when she shook with terror. This was the Don. Cold. Precise. Dangerous.
By the time she came out he had already hung up and pulled on a tailored black suit. Th
