Page 106 of The Butterfly Killer

Miguel only grinned as he tucked his gun away.

Four men dressed in black and definitely armed, spilled out from the house. They opened the driver and passenger door. They pulled Roman and Marcus out and shoved them toward the front door without a word muttered.

Marcus kept his mouth shut. He figured he’d find out what was going on once they were inside. Hopefully, some of this would start making sense and Roman would have a plan to get them out of this situation.

He was also praying Rose would call Mercer and they’d find them. They weren’t far away from the diner. Surely, Mercer and Burns had found out more about Miguel while Marcus was locked up in the mountains.

They were forced through the large foyer and past a large living room. The house was mostly white, but the warm accents such as gold, pale pinks, and lively greens made it feel cozier than it was. Everything screamed money. Not the fake kind of “money” Marcus often saw.

This wasn’t someone putting on a show while swimming in debt. Whoever owned this house, had money for a very long time and knew what to do with it.

Once they passed the large living room, they entered through a dining room even more spacious. Marcus would have marveled at the wooden furniture and large paintings on the walls if he wasn’t shoved out the French doors.

The backyard had to be around the same size as the entire house. The large pool that took up most of the space glistened in the bright sun. It was crystal clear.

Someone swam laps in it. They made lazy strokes as they headed toward the edge of the pool. When they did reach the edge and came up from the water, Marcus could tell then it was a man. His dark hair was peppered with gray and his broad tan back was covered in scars. His muscles flexed as he pulled himself out of the water.

A servant handed him a white fluffy towel. He wiped himself off, skin now glistening in the sun.

He was good looking. Strikingly. The man’s eyes landed on the group now standing on the patio, watching him get out of the pool. He didn’t seem that surprised to see them, but he didn’t look like he was expecting them.

Huh. Was this their boss?

The man continued to dry himself as he walked toward them. The men holding Marcus and Roman tensed, however, Marcus could tell by their body language that they weren’t tensing because they saw this man as their leader. It was tenseness as an enemy grew closer. Their focus turned toward the man as if he was more of a threat than Marcus and Roman were.

Miguel had lingered inside the house. He now walked out and even he froze when he saw the man in swimming trunks.

“Nephew. What are you doing here?”

Trepidation. It wasn’t something Marcus would have thought he’d see on Miguel’s face. Especially when they were supposed to be in a place he deemed safe for himself.

Marcus looked at the nephew with this new information. So Miguel had a sibling. And this nephew of his was causing problems to Miguel.

The stress in Miguel’s voice was surprising. Marcus thought Miguel was this maniac who everyone spoiled. But it seemed there was one person in this cartel world that might threaten Miguel’s ideal life.

The nephew in question threw the towel over his shoulder. Marcus saw no resemblance to Miguel except maybe his complexion and hair color. The nephew’s hair was straight, thick, and slicked back from the water. His lips were full, his brows perfectly arched, and his hooded eyes gave him a permanent resting bitch face.

The thing that stood out the most about him besides is impressive physic were his dark green eyes. They were like jade and when the sunlight struck them just right, they glowed.

“Rent is due. Where’s Dante?”

Miguel frowned. “Do you have any fucking respect?”

“If he won’t call me son, I’m not calling him father.” The nephew had no reaction to Miguel’s anger. He let it roll right off his back as if Miguel was an annoying fly not even worth being swatted.

However, though Miguel hadn’t peaked the nephew’s interest, Marcus and Roman had.

He looked the two over. “Who are they?”

Another servant came out from the house with a pile of clothes. Without missing a beat, the nephew stripped from his trunks.

Miguel groaned. “Jesus Christ!”

Marcus would have looked away if he wasn’t in shock. The nephew had no shame as he dressed himself. “It’s my house, Uncle. Get used to it.”

Miguel was fuming and red in the face as the nephew walked inside, the servants following him. “Let him know I was here. Next time, I won’t ask nicely.”

Miguel cursed to himself. “Fucking cunt bastard.”

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