Stone Crest: Rise of a Raven

57. Chapter 57

Chapter fifty-seven

Raven

“ J ust text me when you’re done.” Presley pulls up to the curb of my aunt’s house and my stomach physically churns when I see Arthur’s sports car in the driveway.

“Perfect,” I mutter.

In the rearview I see Hendrix park a few cars down on the side of the street.

“What time will you be done?” I ask.

“It’s just dinner with my mom and brother. My dad had business tonight. Ledger is in town, and she wants us to catch up .” She rolls her eyes.

From what she’s told me about her brother, he’s lives in Manhattan and has a successful company that specializes in real estate.

“Sounds like your night will be as fun as mine.” I unclip my seat belt.

“I guess I’d rather be miserable together than alone.” She smiles. “We can drink wine and complain.”

“That’s what this friendship is built on anyway.” I shrug. “Wine and shit talking.”

She laughs as I step out of the car. “I’ll be back by eight thirty at the latest.”

“Have fun.” I wiggle my fingers before shutting the door.

Letting out a deep breath, I pause before I move up the sidewalk and onto the porch. Her house is actually small and cozy. If I didn’t despise her so much, I might compliment her on it.

My finger presses the doorbell, and I wait until the solid wood door opens, revealing a smiling Gemma.

“Raven.” She waves me inside. “So glad you made it.”

I take in her smeared blotch of lipstick, then motion my finger. “Missed a spot.”

She clears her throat, her finger flying up to swipe over her lip. “Your father is in the dining room.”

Father. Please.

Stepping into the house, I weave through the hallway and into the dining room. I spot the man who claimed to raise me. He still looks the same. Not a hair out of place, an unreasonable amount of Botox, and a crisp black suit.

“Raven.” His angry voice booms. “Hope you don’t mind me dropping by. A phone call obviously wasn’t sufficient enough since you’ve yet again, been avoiding them.”

“Are we going to continue to do this, Arthur?” I take a seat at the opposite end of the table. “You can drop the I care act. We both know you aren’t here to check on me.” I tap my nails along the table. “Tell me. What shade of lipstick is Gemma wearing tonight?”

He frowns.

I smirk. “You’d probably have to unzip those pants to check.”

His cheeks flame red. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re not here for me.”

“Excuse me,” he scoffs. “You’re my daughter, of course I am.”

“Correction.” I cross my legs. “I’m not your daughter and we both know it.”

His face never changes. His expression stone cold. “Now, Raven. What would your mother think of you saying things like that?”

I lift a shoulder. “I’m not sure. She’s dead.”

His eyes narrow, but I catch the slight movement as they switch to behind my right shoulder.

I feel a presence approaching, but before I can turn around, a small prick hits the skin on my neck.

“Wha….” I don’t get the words out before everything goes black.

Distant voices are humming in the background when I blink my eyes open. They’re heavy. Not fully functioning but I can see the rafters above me.

“Two hundred thousand.” I hear Gemma’s voice. “That’s what we agreed on for delivery.”

“We did.”

I don’t recognize the voice that answers. It’s male, but other than that it’s not familiar.

“Salvatore. Give them the cash,” he orders.

Cash?

A loud thud echos in front of me, but all I see is the back of Gemma’s nude heels as I peel open my eyes again. I want to keep them open, but the damn things keep closing.

I shift to move my arm, but something is restraining me. My fingers brush against the rough exterior of a rope that is bound around my wrists behind my back.

So much for wine and shit talking tonight.

I try to wiggle my shoulders, but my whole body feels limp. Like dead weight.

“Thank you,” Gemma clips.

“Pleasure doing business with you.” Arthur’s voice grates along my skin like a rusty blade.

The bag is picked up, but a sudden gunshot has me jolting against the concrete I’m currently sprawled out on.

“Baby, you got blood on my blouse.” Gemma wines.

“Sorry my love. Let me get that,” the man rasps.

Bang.

What the hell? Another gunshot.

Gemma's lifeless body slams down on the concrete next to me and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming.

“Fucking humans,” he mutters. “Clean this up Salvatore and put that money back in the safe. We need to get ready for the auction.”

I watch through blurred vision as the two bodies are dragged across the floor. Nausea coils inside of me when a hand grips my bicep, jerking me to a standing position.

“There she is.”

I blink, my eyes opening wide to see the man in front of me. I’ve seen him before, but I can’t place him.

“We finally meet.” He runs a finger along my chin before pinching it between his fingertips. “You look like her.”

“Who are you?” I choke out.

“Elias Barcelo.” He grins. “I’m your father.”