Page 59 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

He gives a jerky nod, a soft smile twitching on his lips. Shit might not be okay with us right now, but it will be. We’re family. We’ll sort it out.

Elio is waiting for me in the hallway, leaning against the opposite wall, scrolling through his phone. He looks up and pockets it as soon as I step out though, like he was just trying not to eavesdrop while he waited. He smiles and I close the space between us, putting on a stern look.

“Wha—” He starts to ask, but I cut him off with a hard kiss, stopping his words and busting open the cut on my lip again.

His body softens as I press him up against the wall and own his mouth with my lips and tongue, drinking him in.

“You keep stealing my thunder,” I rumble when I break the kiss.

“Oh yeah?”

I nod. “Yeah. You told me you wanted me before I could work it out on my own. You decided we were dating and told me like it was a fact. And now, you’re spouting off to my brother about being in love with me while I was still sorting through it in my head.” My voice is low and menacing, but Elio’s eyes light up like I’m saying the most romantic shit in the world.

“Are you going to spank me, Boss?” he purrs.

“Yeah, I’m going to spank you. Right after we stop by my place, and I pack a suitcase. We can go back for the rest of my shit next week.”

“The rest of your shit?”

“I’m moving in with you before you steal my thunder on that one too.”

A slow smile spreads over his lips. “Sounds good, Boss.”

“Good.” I dip my head close to his, brushing the tips of our noses together. “And I love you too, Brat.”

Chapter 22

ORION

I reach up and tug at the stiff collar of the dress shirt that’s feeling more and more like a noose around my neck with every passing second. Even that simple motion makes me more aware of how restricted my mobility feels, with the cuff links around my wrists holding the shirt in place no matter how I squirm or tug.

“My suit looks good on you,” Elio says, glancing at me for just a second with a flirtatious grin on his lips before he returns his attention to the road ahead.

“I feel like I’m being strangled,” I grumble, shifting in my seat and fiddling with the tie around my neck. It’s the same tie I’ve wrapped my fist around more than once to call my bratty mobster to heel.

He chuckles. “I guess I’m too fucked in the head to see the problem. But I’m glad you prefer to be on the other end of that equation.”

I rumble a laugh and force myself to stop fidgeting. “I still think I could have gotten away with dressing normal.” We spent half an hour arguing about it before we left the apartment, and for once, Elio refused to back down. I guess that should tell me how important it is that I get this right tonight, but I’m too uncomfortable to admit that. The nerves dancing in my gut aren’t helping things either.

“You know why we have to do it this way, Boss,” he says patiently, switching his headlights off as we turn down the road that leads to the docks. “You need to look the part so they’ll let you on the boat. You get on, assess the situation, and get us the information so we know what we’re up against.”

“I know.” I jerk my head up and down, bouncing my knee.

Elio slows to a stop in an out-of-the-way area, hidden by a row of warehouses. Lorenzo is already here, standing stoically with his hands in his pockets next to his car. It’s a relief to get out of the car, even if it does mean the doomsday clock ticking in my head is inching closer to midnight with every breath. He goes around to pop open the trunk, and I join him because no matter how many times we’ve gone over this plan, I still have no fucking clue what I’m supposed to be doing. All the information is there in my head, I’m just hoping that when the bell rings, my instincts will take over like they always do.

Except this isn’t just two guys stepping into a ring to wail on each other for money. This is life or death for every single one of us. One slipup and it’s over. I let out a shaky breath as Elio snatches a pistol out of his trunk and then turns to me. He steals my usual move, wrapping his hand around my tie and closing the space between us until our noses are touching and we’re sharing the same air with every breath.

“It’s going to be fine,” he says, like he can read my mind. Except it’s a hell of a lot more likely that he’s just picking up on my jittery body language. “You know how to use this?” He presses the handle of the gun into my palm, and I wrap my fingers around it with a nod.

“I know how to use it.” Mostly, anyway. Enough that I’m sure I can figure it out in a pinch.

“I’m hoping you won’t need to, but I’m not sending you in there unarmed.” We’ve gone over this a hundred times too, but there’s something soothing about hearing it again. “Your focus is on getting the information we need and keeping the kids safe once shit starts to go down.”

“Got it.” I sound a hell of a lot more confident than I feel.

While I tuck the gun into the hidden holster, Elio pulls a heavy tie clip out of his pocket and attaches it to my tie. He takes a second to adjust it, then pulls out his phone and taps the screen until his own shadowy face fills the screen from an odd perspective. He grins.

“It’s working.” His voice echoes quietly through the speaker on his phone too, confirming that the audio is working as well.

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