Page 85 of A Twisted Arrangement

He huffs out a breath and sits on the side of the sofa. “If you can’t be good, at least promise me you’ll be safe.”

I nod. “Don’t worry. You heard my boss, I have to catch up on work.”

“You really can quit, you know. It’s not like you need the money.”

I could, but that’s always been an option for me. To sit back and live off my family’s dirty money. I’ve used it for the necessities of life, because even I’m not stubborn enough to let it go to waste, but when it comes to things like this, it has to be all me.

“It’s never been about the money. It’s always been about me standing on my own, by my own strength.”

Matthias surprises me when he smiles.

“I’m proud of you.” It takes him several seconds to finally stand, and even then, he doesn’t turn from me. “I’ll see you soon. No sneaking off.”

It’s only now that I can see the way his brows pull together and his fists clench at his sides. He can laugh it off, but there’s some part of him that’s worried I’ll disappear again.

I wrap my arms around his middle and rest my chin against his muscled stomach, looking up at him. “I’m craving Italian for dinner. Bring some home for me.”

He relaxes in my arms and runs his thumb along my cheekbone. “Anything for you.”

The afternoon air is crisp with the oncoming fall. I pull Matthias’s sweater closer around me. His smell combines with the scent of approaching rain. I’d found the oversized sweater in his closet and couldn’t stop myself from putting it on. Tea in one hand and a computer bag over my shoulder, I make my way to the porch swing that overlooks the front lawn.

Three guards stand rigorously, all eyeing me like I may bolt at any given second. I guess I can’t blame them. I nearly made it out of here, and I’m sure that didn’t go down well with my husband.

Husband.

The title fills me with a tingly warmth. He may have gone about it in the most asshole, overhanded, giant brute of a way, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s mine. I should probably stop planning his murder for it. I sit on the swing, pulling the blanket already resting there over my lap, and sip my warm drink, giving the guards a little wave. Hopefully, they’ll be able to relax a bit once they realize I’m not about to disappear on them.

The swing is deep, big enough to fit a twin mattress. It’s filled with squishy down-filled pillows that form around my back when I relax into them. If I have to work, I can’t think of a better place to do it.

My hand grazes my stomach when I reach for my bag, and I freeze. There really could be a little Matthias in there. Deep brown hair and dark eyes, but I’ll never let them hold the same hurt he carries around. Instead, they’ll glow with warmth as I wrap them in my arms and promise to always protect them. Matthias deserves that. Another chance at happiness, and…so do I.

Chapter 40

Matthias

I enterinto our private room at Elysium, and the loud music from the club mutes behind me as the door clicks shut. All three of my brothers are here, waiting for me after Damon sent out his immediate meeting text.

He screwed up my plans of keeping Scarlet beneath me and full of my cock all day, so he better have a good reason for this shit.

“I heard you finally convinced your wife to like you.” Bash slow claps. “All you had to do was drug her, kidnap her, and lock her in your house. Honestly, isn’t that a little pathetic?”

He’s sitting on the leather sofa, feet kicked up on the table, giving off I-don’t-give-a-fuck vibes that aren’t fooling any of us. He might be the youngest Everette brother, but he’s as curious about why we were called here as I am.

“Fuck off.” Ignoring him, I stand next to Damon. He hasn’t looked up since I walked in, too consumed by whatever’s happening on his phone.

“This better be good. I was busy.” I say to my older brother, waiting for him to snap out of it.

He gives me a sharp look, then back to his phone, finally putting it in his pocket. “You aren’t the only one who wants to get back to their wife.”

Fair. Damon’s been so inseparable from Misty I’m surprised she’s not here. Luckily, my older brother’s wife loves his paranoid ass enough to let him keep up with the countless cameras at her place, so he can check in whenever he wants.

Xander comes up from beside us and hands me a whiskey on ice in a crystal tumbler. “Drink this. You’re going to need it.”

The cool alcohol burns my throat as I down it in one gulp. “Enough with the lead-up. Tell me what you found out.”

Damon hands me an iPad with a file already pulled up. It’s a picture of a black car with what appears to be two men inside.

My brows pull together as I try to make out the blurred license plate. They’re using some kind of image blocker technology, making it impossible to read. “What is this?”

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