RAVEN’S POV:
The smoke clears, and Dante walks in. He doesn’t rush to save me; rather, he takes his time, walking into the room with his intimidating figure leaving a chilling presence. His clothes are covered in ashes, and behind him is a team of men.
The red laser sights of his team’s rifles dance across the walls, pinning Yara’s chest and Bruno’s forehead. Dante’s cold and bottomless eyes are fixed on me. Or rather, they are fixed on the red streak decorating my cheek.
"Dante," Yara breathes with a tinge of fear and admiration in her tone.
She keeps her gun raised, but her hand is visibly trembling.
"You’re supposed to be on a trip in Mexico or another country. You arrived so soon."
Dante doesn't look at her. He stops ten feet away, his gaze sliding down to my shackled ankles, my
