Page 54 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

“I’m working alone,” Casimir yelps. “Some Russian with a name I can’t pronounce, Nik-something…”

“Nikandr,” Lorenzo supplies, sounding bored by this whole thing. “We know about him.”

“Right,” Casimir agrees. “He showed up at The Starlight and made me an offer. He would ship the merchandise—”

“Kids,” I interject roughly, digging my fingers into his temples a little harder. “They’re not fucking merchandise, they’re kids.”

“I was desperate,” he says, trying to defend himself.

Sparrow scoffs and cuts his other cheek, not bothering to go slow or shallow this time, splitting it open deep enough that a river of blood spills out and cascades down onto his shirt. Casimir wails again.

“Nobody here gives a fuck.” Sparrow puts the tip of his knife under the man’s chin. “That’s one answer down. You’re working alone. Now, when’s the next shipment?”

“As far as I know, I am. But do you have any idea how much money that fucker makes? If you kill me, he’ll just get another middleman in Wildcliff.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Elio says. “We’re going to make sure we send a message loud and clear to Nikandr about who’s in charge in this city, and exactly what we’ll tolerate.”

“Ticktock, Cas.” Sparrow presses the tip of the knife harder against his Adam’s apple. “When’s the shipment?”

Casimir’s breathing speeds up, and I can tell the exact moment he realizes he’s not getting out of here alive. The tension in him breaks, and his whole body sags.

“Tuesday. One-forty-five in the morning. A freighter is going to pull into the docks and there’s supposed to be two dozen girls on board.”

“What about crew?” Lorenzo asks. “How much muscle and how armed are they?”

“I don’t know. Usually about ten guys with sidearms, from what I’ve seen.” Casimir swallows loudly and Sparrow pulls the knife back from his throat. He smirks and pats his cheek.

“Good boy.”

Xaviaro steps around him again, reaching into his suit jacket and pulling out a snub-nosed revolver.

“Move,” he says, and it takes me a second to realize he’s talking to me.

Elio snags my arm and pulls me towards him, off to the side, away from Casimir.

“We good?” Xaviaro’s eyes flicker to Lorenzo momentarily, and he gives another single nod.

As embarrassing as it is, I turn and duck my head into the crook of Elio’s neck, flinching at the resounding pop that echoes through the room, followed by an almost unnatural silence. Elio strokes my hair with his fingers, and no one says a word for a few seconds. I drag in a couple of shaky breaths and manage to straighten myself up again. I’m expecting teasing looks from everyone else, but no one seems to notice or care that I don’t quite have the stomach for murder that they do. Sparrow and Xaviaro are already jumping into action, untying Casimir’s limp body and preparing for disposal.

“Come on, Boss. We’re done here,” Elio says, giving me a little nudge.

“Shouldn’t we help?” My throat feels thick as I ask the question, hoping he’ll say no.

“We’re fine.” Sparrow waves us off while Xaviaro mutters something under his breath about laundry that I don’t quite understand.

Lorenzo is right behind us, leaving the two of them to cleanup duty. Elio’s arm is around my shoulders, and I breathe a little easier with each step we take towards the elevators. By the time we reach it, it’s like nothing ever happened. My heart is beating steadily, and there isn’t an ounce of guilt weighing on my conscience.

“You did good, Orion,” Lorenzo says when the doors slide closed behind us. “I wasn’t completely sure if you would fit in with the family the way Elio needs, but you surprised me.”

“I don’t know about that,” I say softly. “I definitely don’t have the flair for it the way Sparrow does.”

“Those two are freaks though,” Elio argues.

Lorenzo’s lips twitch with an almost-smile. “I believe Alessio would call them ‘couple goals.’”

“They’re not going to fuck in that guy’s blood or anything, are they?” I lower my voice, almost afraid to ask.

Elio chuckles. “Honestly, with those two, who the fuck knows.”

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