Page 15 of A Twisted Arrangement

She huffs. “I’m not agreeing to that.”

I tilt my head to the side and raise one curious brow. “You don’t have a choice.”

She looks at my two brothers, who are luckily smart enough to stay out of this, and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

I wonder if she realizes that it’s pushing her already full tits up for me.

“Fine, just make this go away. Try not to kill him.”

I smirk, having no intention of fulfilling that request. “We’ll take care of it.”

Her shoulders sag with her sigh, all the spirit washing out of her.

I’ll make sure she knows in the future, she never needs to be tough with me. It’s my fucking pleasure to take care of her. I’m happy to be the devil she can lean on.

As if she finally realizes exactly where she is, her body goes stiff. “I…I have to go. Let me know when it’s done.”

“Don’t worry. You’ll know.”

She practically scurries out of the room when Bash whistles.

“So itisher.”

My gaze cuts to him. “Fuck off.”

Matching smiles form on my brothers’ mouths, more cruel than happy.

Bash claps his hands together and gets up. “So let’s go make this asshole pay.”

“We’re not really going to let him go with a warning, are we?” Xander asks as he follows after his brother.

“What do you think?”

“I think he’s going to regret this for the short amount of time he has left.”

Chapter 8

Matthias

“Is that him?”Xander slows down, pulling his Range Rover closer to the curb. Sure enough, that asshole Liam is striding down the street toward a bar. There’s a girl hanging off him, and he lets his hand slip over her ass.

“The fuck?” Bash says from the seat behind me, his voice dipping dangerously. The air in the car is practically crackling with just how pissed we are.

“I’m getting out. Don’t follow me,” I say, eyes still trained on the dead man walking.

“Are you kidding me?”

I turn toward Xander, who leans away from me, hands up between us. “Fine. Happy hunting.”

I chuckle as anticipation grows in my chest.You can run, but you can’t hide, Liam.

Following close enough not to lose him in the crowd but far enough he won’t notice, I have time to see just how slimy this asshole is. He’s smiling down at this girl, his mouth more leer than anything, and I start to debate the merits of beating his face in, right here on the street.

Sure, it would bring bad press, but nothing we couldn’t handle. I move faster, the idea of grabbing him by the collargrowing more appealing by the second. They aren’t moving fast; the girl is unstable on her feet, and she’s leaning more of her weight into him than should be necessary. This man better not be trying to get with a girl too drunk to consent.

I stop when a shoulder slams into mine. The guy’s face is relaxed with alcohol, a too-wide smile across it. “Sorry, man—” His words cut off as he takes me in and swallows hard, backing away instinctively. “Shit…I mean, I’m really sorry. Um…yeah…please don’t kill me.”

All of my brothers have been told we’re intimidating. It’s something inherent to the Everette line. Born and raised to rule over the rich, we’ve defended our position as Lords of the Order of Saints with blood.

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