Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77126 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
“I’ve already sent out ‘save the date’ invitations,” I tell her, “since it’s coming up so quickly. The responses have been great. Of course, having my father’s name attached doesn’t hurt.”
“That’s a good move,” she says. “Leveraging your family name will not only attract potential donors but reputable professionals as well. But try to think beyond the immediate, Raven. The gala is a launchpad for your foundation, and you want it to make waves.”
“But why? Isn’t the aim just to raise funds?”
She shakes her head. “Raising funds is certainly one of the goals. But more importantly, we need to raise awareness. People won’t donate if they don’t know about the cause or respect it. Your gala should show them that you’re serious about making a difference.”
A stab of apprehension hits my gut. “I hadn’t really thought about it like that. I’m not sure how to get people to take me seriously.”
“They will,” she says. “You’ve got passion, and that’s more than half the battle won. Now we just need to channel that passion into something tangible and compelling. Your story, your survival, and your dedication to helping others is already inspiring. Now it’s about spreading that inspiration wider.”
I nod, even as a nagging worry tugs at the back of my mind. I hope she’s right, but the fear of failure is hard to shake off. It’s one thing to dream big. It’s another to bring those dreams to life.
“Remember,” Emily says. “You’re not alone in this. We’re going to build a solid team around you, and I’ll be there every step of the way.”
“Thank you, Emily,” I say. “This has been amazing. Is there anything else we need to take care of this afternoon?’“
“I think we’re in good shape,” she says. “Think about board members. We don’t need to fill all the chairs in time for the gala. In fact, the gala itself will be a good place to gauge interest from people who may want to serve. But we need a skeleton board to get started. You, your sister and your father will be a good start, along with someone in the medical field.”
“Got it.” I rise. “Thanks so much.”
“Of course, Raven.” She rises as well, extending her hand to me. “It’s a pleasure assisting you with such a noble cause.”
I shake her hand, and then she escorts Jared and me through the office to the exit.
Once we step out into the humid Texas afternoon, my phone buzzes in my pocket.
My breath catches as I read it.
Even the raven can’t fly forever. Sooner or later, it comes home to die.
8
VINNIE
Icould take offense at the nickname. I could stand and meet his gaze, secure in my strength this time.
I could do any number of things.
But I don’t.
I only stare.
Because if this is Diego Vega, then who the hell is buried underneath the Bellamys’ old barn?
“Surprised to see me, Little Cobra?”
God, he still sounds like a snake. And he calls me a cobra?
I keep my expression impassive despite my racing heart. “Why would I be surprised?”
He smirks. “Let’s just say that rumors of my death have been…greatly exaggerated.”
“Your death?”
He smirks. “You know. A body was never recovered.”
“You’ll have to excuse me, Mr. Vega. But I’ve been out of the country—my own country—for over a decade. I only just returned. It was my impression that you no longer had any dealings with my grandfather.”
“I don’t.” His eyes shine with contempt. “But you’re here on your grandfather’s business. And I have close ties to Mr. Agudelo here in Colombia.”
“I see.”
“I understand you’re interested in the business of one of my colleagues, Giacomo Puzo.”
Puzo was involved with Vega. Perfect. “That is why I’m here.”
Agudelo nods. “Yes. We’ll be talking about that later, but for now, why don’t we just enjoy some dessert?”
Dessert turns out to be caramelized flan, but I can’t taste it. I force it down into my stomach, which feels like it’s cramping around every bite.
I stay expressionless.
But inside, my mind is racing. Not only about who the hell is buried under that barn. Who took Eagle Bellamy’s bullet. But also about Raven’s father, Austin Bellamy.
What is the connection?
I make it through the meal, hyperaware of Vega’s eyes on me at all times.
I remember his words, long ago, at that meeting a few months before my eighteenth birthday.
Remember. Pride comes before a fall.
I thought nothing of it at the time. I was seventeen, and I thought I had the world by the balls. I hadn’t yet seen what Mario was capable of doing to me. I was young and arrogant.
Full of pride.
Was Vega warning me about something? About what Mario would eventually do to me when I turned eighteen?
The conversation between Agudelo and Vega buzzes around me like flies I want to swat.
Until—
“How is Mario?” Vega asks me.
I swallow down a bite of flan. “His health is good. Thank you for asking.”