Page 60 of Beautifully Savage Butterfly

“Bit ironic, isn’t it? Wearing a wire for the mob.” I chuckle.

He snorts in agreement before he catches my mouth in a kiss. Even though he’s the one to initiate it, he melts into the submissive role immediately, softening to my greedy, demanding rhythm. A frantic feeling rises inside my chest, clawing its way up my throat until I’m surprised it doesn’t burst out of me, shredding me like bloodied confetti. This could be the last time I kiss him.

“It’s going to be fine,” he murmurs again, and I cling to that hope. I have to believe him, or I’ll never pull this off.

The sound of more engines rumbles through the night. I reluctantly let Elio go and look over his shoulder to see two more expensive cars coming down the road with their headlights off. They pull up next to us, Sparrow and Xaviaro getting out of one while Alessio and Salvatore get out of the other.

Alessio bounces on his toes, grinning ear to ear as he approaches us.

“It’s been a while since we got to whip our guns out like this.” He rubs his hands together like he’s about to dig into a plate of ribs rather than murder a dozen Russians.

“Speak for yourself,” Xaviaro says, sounding bored.

“I trust Dante is somewhere secure?” Lorenzo asks, joining us.

Salvatore nods and opens his mouth, presumably to give details about where he left his charge to ensure he couldn’t tip off the Russians or anyone else for a quick payday. But before he can say anything, his trunk pops open unexpectedly.

“What the fuck?” Alessio mutters.

“Christine?” Sparrow says with a laugh. I frown and cock my head. “It’s a Stephen King book about a haunted car.”

There’s the sound of crunching gravel and all five mobsters pull their guns.

“Jesus, that was a tighter fit than it looked.” Dante’s voice echoes through the quiet night as loudly as the car engines did a few minutes ago. “Can I get a ‘that’s what he said?’”

“Excellent work securing him,” Lorenzo mutters, tucking his gun away.

“I tied him up and told him to stay put,” Salvatore says defensively.

Dante snorts, coming around the car into full view. He’s fully dressed for a change, in jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt. It’s almost jarring to see him in something other than booty shorts, without a hint of makeup or glitter in sight.

“Remind me to teach you how to tie a proper knot sometime,” Dante offers with a smirk.

Alessio cackles.

“You used a hitch knot, didn’t you? Rookie move, Sal.” Sparrow tuts.

“This isn’t a plus one kind of situation,” Lorenzo says coolly, directing his attention to Dante. “Why don’t you climb back into the trunk until we’re finished here.”

“No.” It’s one simple word on his lips, but a couple of the guys audibly gasp, then try to cover the sound with fake coughing.

“No?” Lorenzo repeats, his voice low and dangerous.

Dante’s face hardens and he pulls himself up to his full height, which admittedly is not all that impressive without the platform boots he often wears at Wild.

“Look, I’ll stay out of the way, I won’t fuck anything up for you, I just…” He crosses his arms and glances in the direction of the docks, even though the view is blocked by the warehouses. “This is personal, and I need to know that those kids get out safely. If you want me back in that trunk, you’re going to have to put a bullet in my head first.”

Lorenzo’s nostrils flare, but his face otherwise remains neutral. “Stay the fuck out of the way, or I won’t hesitate to shoot you.”

Dante nods. “Deal.”

Over the next few minutes, another dozen men whose names I don’t know show up in small groups. Soldiers. I remember Elio using the word at least once before. This is the Moretti army—at least, part of it. How many men work for Lorenzo? Doing his bidding, keeping the dregs of this city in line, and collecting money to pad his pockets.

It’s easier to spend a few minutes musing about that rather than dwelling on what’s to come. Lorenzo looks at his watch, and that seems to be the signal that it’s time to move.

“You ready for this?” Elio asks, but the question feels rhetorical. It’s zero hour, I can’t back out now.

“I’m ready.”

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