Page 47 of His Pretty Little Duet

Every execution.

The cognac heats my head, not a feeling I often allow. I usually cut myself off before letting any unpredictability take root, but not tonight. Not after seeing my little deer near faint from the fumes in this room. I sneer to myself. Dolled up and on show for them to gawk at, just as discussed with my family.

At risk.

She is always at some kind of risk, not having a man to care for her while she is the most vulnerable she will ever be. I glance over at Aurora as she entertains Bulan, then across to Lorna, who leans in close to Arif. I don't know anything about vulnerable women.

The Indonesian fucker who approached Fawn and myself earlier drops a glass, and I watch as he carelessly steps on the shards, further grinding them into little pieces. I don't know him. He must be a low-level member of their party.

My stare zeroes in on his shoe.

Feeling their eyes, I glance at the five guards around the room, letting them know not to react to the accident, for now.

"Let's discuss the shipment, shall we?" I state softly, but the entire room falls quiet with even my whispers.

Vinny stops talking.

Some look at their glasses. Some at the floor. But Eka and Bulan walk confidently over to me with wide, fake smiles and white teeth that I would like to rearrange. "Have you spoken to your storeman about the missing product?"

Eka speaks, his words short and mispronounced but understandable. "We thought business could wait until tomorrow, Mr Butcher?—"

"Please," I say, still not inching from my sprawled-out position on the couch, "call me Clay tonight, seeing we are such good friends now."Or maybe you'd like to call me an arsehole again?I dare him with my stare.

They share an amused glance, and I don't miss the way Vinny shifts under the disrespectful interaction, ready to call them out on it.

Heat wraps around my shoulders.

Sitting down on the chair opposite us, Bulan says, "Count again. All the stock is there." That alone is a mockery of the highest sort because it has taken Vinny twenty people and two weeks to sort this most recent shipment.

"I counted it twice," Vinny states, sucking air through his front teeth.

Wanting to offer them a polite way to conclude this conversation, I say, "Let me make a deal with you. Let us stop this miserable back and forth right now, and I offer you twenty percent of Dustin's cut of the diamonds in exchange for your business. No more loose crates. No more missing weapons." I pause, watching my proposal sink in, knowing they will rebut, but the polite Sicilian blood in me finds it necessary to offer. "And your loyalty, eyes, and ears in Indonesia."

Eka stares at me with that large mocking curve set into his lips. "What might you need eyes and ears in Indonesia for?"

Vinny huffs. "That is not how to talk to a boss?—"

"Vinny." I raise my hand to stop him.

I smile softly at Bulan and Eka, but the fire in my head starts to singe my nerves. "I think you know."

Bulan waves his hand dismissively. "We don't do business with Mr Nerrock anymore."

Another glass smashes to my side, the sound like a shorting circuit in my head, but I hold their eyes, fighting through the internal Butcher habit to beat the table with my fist until they all drop their unconcerned grins.

Eka looks at his associate and laughs before finding my gaze again. "Count the crates again. It is all there."

Vinny is getting more and more agitated, moving in place to keep from jumping to his feet while I stay perfectly still and relaxed. Stoic.

"I would very much like some hospitality of the female kind," Bulan says, drawing my eyes to him as he licks his thin, tanned lips and peruses the room. "The girl from before, the little blonde one. She is pregnant, no? I thought I saw a small bump... such a sexy thing, and I have to admit I have a... How do you say it, afetish? I get hard for pregnant women, especially little ones like her." His eyes twitch daringly. Is he challenging me? "Did you know that pregnant women have tighter pussies? It is a fact; the lovely flesh between their legs is swollen with all the blood pumping to that area."

I still don't move.

He continues, "They are far more sensitive down there. I would make sure she enjoyed it. I'll be very gentle with both her and the baby."

They look at each other and exchange another meaningful laugh. I share in the amusement, chuckling softly as my head burns in molten lava. My mirth gets louder, drowning theirs out, and their faces fall.

Across the room, my other capos and associates, brazenly watchful, measure the situation closely.

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