Chapter 50
Raven
The change in Karen's demeanor was so abrupt I almost wanted to applaud the performance. One moment she was a vicious socialite ready to claw my eyes out, the next—a simpering sycophant with a smile so forced it looked painful.
"Well!" She clasped her hands together, her diamond rings catching the light. "I had no idea our little Raven was so... accomplished!"
I raised an eyebrow. "Our?"
Karen's smile faltered for a microsecond before returning with renewed determination. When I didn't engage further, she pivoted like a seasoned politician, redirecting her attention to Sarah.
"Sarah, darling, you must be so proud! A perfect SAT score? Why, that's just—" she waved her manicured hand dramatically, "—extraordinary!"
Sarah shifted uncomfortably. "It was quite a surprise to us too." She glanced at me with a mixture of pride and confusion before adding, "I suppose everyone has hidden talents." She smiled warmly. "Oh, but tonight we should really be thanking you both! If it weren't for your dinner party, Leonard might never have discovered Raven's linguistic abilities!"
Ben stepped forward, placing a proprietary hand on David's shoulder. "What are brothers for, if not to help each other out?" His smile didn't quite reach his eyes. "We Martinez men need to stick together, isn't that right, David?"
I glanced at David, who was already three sheets to the wind. The rapid shift in his social standing, combined with free-flowing champagne, had turned him from anxious wallflower to the life of the party. He was currently attempting what appeared to be a salsa move with no music playing.
"Damn right!" David slurred, raising his glass so enthusiastically that champagne sloshed over the rim. "To family! To business! To my brilliant daughter!"
Sarah's face flushed with embarrassment. I could read her thoughts clearly: this was the moment Ben and Karen would revert to form, mocking David's lack of composure. Their contempt would be all the more cutting after this brief taste of acceptance.
But Karen surprised us both.
"Oh, David is having such a wonderful time!" She laughed indulgently. "Perhaps he should stay here tonight. That much celebrating doesn't mix well with driving."
Sarah tensed. "That's very kind, but we couldn't impose—"
"Nonsense!" Ben interjected. "The guest room is already made up."
Sarah glanced at David, who was now attempting to balance an olive on his nose, and sighed in resignation. "I should probably stay too, to make sure he's alright."
I watched the entire scene unfold with detached amusement. This afternoon, we were the poor relations they barely tolerated. Now, David was being treated like a treasured guest, all because his daughter had demonstrated value. It was predictable, pathetic, and oddly satisfying.
"Well," I said, smoothing down my dress, "since that's settled, I'll head home."
I turned to leave, already calculating how much time I'd have alone at the house—perfect for some unmonitored research on Nash Wilder. As I reached the ornate front door, I heard rapid footsteps behind me.
"Raven, wait!" Karen called out, her heels click-clacking across the marble foyer. Ben was right beside her, both of them moving with surprising speed for people who'd been drinking all evening.
I turned slowly. "Yes?"
"You can't possibly be thinking of going home alone at this hour!" Karen's voice dripped with manufactured concern. "A young girl like you—it simply isn't safe!"
Ben nodded gravely. "As your uncle, I insist on driving you home."
I blinked, momentarily caught off-guard. Their sudden interest in my wellbeing was unexpected, if transparent. I considered my options: refuse and walk (giving me time to think), or accept and potentially gather more information about these two.
"That's... thoughtful of you," I said finally, unable to fabricate a plausible reason to decline.
Ben beamed. "Excellent! I'll bring the car around."
Five minutes later, I was sliding into the butter-soft leather backseat of a Lamborghini Aventador SVJ Roadster—one of only 800 ever made, with a price tag north of half a million dollars. The car's aggressive lines and carbon fiber accents screamed "compensation" louder than any mid-life crisis cliché I'd ever encountered.
I ran my hand over the stitched leather, assessing Ben through new eyes. His middling business acumen and Karen's vapid personality didn't align with this level of wealth. Not even close.
"Beautiful car," I remarked casually as Ben pulled out of the driveway.
"Oh, this old thing?" Karen laughed, turning to face me from the passenger seat. "Ben has a weakness for Italian engineering. Don't you, darling?"
Ben chuckled. "What can I say? Life's too short to drive boring cars."
As we cruised through the night, they tag-teamed their sudden interest in my life.
"How are you finding school, Raven?" Karen asked.
"Any colleges you're considering?" Ben added.
"Do you have enough spending money?"
"Is your room comfortable enough?"
The questions kept coming, and I answered each one with practiced ease, watching their performance with a mixture of amusement and something else—something almost like... warmth? Not that I trusted their motives for a second, but there was something oddly comforting about having relatives fuss over you, even if it was purely transactional.
In my previous life, I'd never experienced this strange dance of family politics. Even insincere attention was still attention, and part of me—a small, childish part I barely recognized—enjoyed it.
While maintaining the conversation, I studied the car more carefully. The windows were thicker than standard—bulletproof glass, definitely. The doors had been reinforced, the left one recently replaced. But what caught my professional eye was the nearly invisible impact mark on the lower right door panel.
"7.62×39mm," I murmured absently, recognizing the signature pattern of an AK round. "Low velocity, high penetration. Silent with the right suppressor. Professional work, really. If this door hadn't been reinforced, you'd have a clean kill, no sound, no mess."
The car went silent.
"What was that, Raven?" Karen asked, her voice suddenly tight.
I blinked, realizing I'd spoken aloud. Amateur mistake. I smiled, instantly switching to teenage innocence mode.