Chapter 36

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

AURORA

TWO WEEKS LATER…

I t’s still early—first cup of coffee early. Not my favourite part of the day unless I’m in bed, naked and waking up wrapped in the arms of the men I love. I snuck out of Sinclair’s bed early to take this meeting with Stefano. I’m trying to free up the rest of the day to spend with Benny. He’s struggling with the recuperation part of his recovery and at this rate, we’re going to have to chain him to the sofa just to get him to stay still for more than five minutes.

“So, what’s the update on the girls?” I say, folding my legs underneath me in my desk chair and gripping my coffee mug with two hands, savouring my first sip of caffeinated heaven.

Stefano is taking advantage of the sofa I’ve added to my office and reclined on one end, arm outstretched along the back cushions. He looks more relaxed than I’ve ever seen him. He’s recovered well, his bruises mostly faded now to a mottling of yellow and green hues.

He’s not in a suit and it’s throwing me because smart casual looks alien on him. I’ve known him my whole life, and I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen him wear anything other than black or charcoal grey dress pants. But jeans? Who is this man and what the fuck has he done to Stefano?

“Vittoria has that in hand. She’s been able to return some girls to their families, but not all of the ones we found were sourced by the frat boys. Many were runaways or trafficked from out of state, so we still have a fair few being housed across the safe houses.”

“What was the final amount Dante was able to syphon from The Knights’ accounts?” I ask.

“Close to one and a half million,” he says, canting his head from side to side.

“Work with Vittoria and put together a proposal for how we can help these women. They can’t stay in the safe house forever. Plan to use most, if not all the funds to set them up in something legitimate.”

Stefano nods. “On it. Any preferences?”

“Just make sure they’re safe. Hell, buy them a cafe to run. I don’t care as long as the pay is fair and they’re under our protection.” I cast my eyes down to the obnoxiously fluorescent sticky note I scrawled my agenda down on. My ‘organisational chaos’ drives Sinclair to distraction, but he can bite me. I have a system, and if he doesn’t like random sticky notes stuck all over the place, he can fuck off back to his tech cave.

I smile, remembering the look on his face yesterday when I told him as much.

“And the narcotics ring?”

“They finished the series of raids last night. Someone will eventually spring back to fill the void, but it won’t be any of the current major players. They’re either in custody or in the wind.”

“And no blowback on us from the authorities?”

“So far, so good. Ignoring the fact that Etta is fucking good at her job—good call there, the woman’s a machine—the police are happy not to open that can of worms. They’d be more likely to send us a thank you basket anyway.”

“And the feds?”

“Too busy taking credit for the multi-agency task force that’s ‘cleaning the streets of poison’ according to their latest press release,” Stefano says, adding air quotes and it makes me smile as I rarely used to see his sarcastic side. The more closely we work together, the more I experience his dry his sense of humour.

“Twats,” I declare.

“You’re not wrong. But they’re happy and contented twats, and they’re staying out of our way for the time being. That won’t always be the case, so enjoy it while you can.”

Sipping my coffee, I let his words sink in. We’re in a unique position right now. There’s plenty we can put in place with little to no scrutiny. We outline some plans to ramp up the weapons operations now that we’ve successfully absorbed the De Luca inventory. There was no way I was letting that go to waste and Luc did a fantastic job coordinating the raids while we were focussing on cleaning up the aftermath from our De Luca offensive.

I’m not sure how long we’ve been at it when there’s a knock at the door. I call out for whoever it is to enter and smile when it swings open to reveal Enzo. Barefoot and jean clad with his sleeves rolled up, I bite my lip as I let my eyes rove over his corded forearms. He pops his hip against the door frame, folds his arms and flexes, knowing full well what he’s doing. We lock eyes and see the satisfied smirk that confirms he’s teasing me.

“Benny’s up and we’re just sorting out breakfast. You guys want anything?”

“I’ve got another appointment to get to,” Stefano says, looking down at his watch.

I nod at Enzo, telling him I’ll be right there, then turn to Stefano. He’s tidying up some of the papers we were going over and pocketing his phone.

“Are you going to make me ask for an update on the prick that was stalking Doc Em?” I say with a brow so highly arched you could ski down it. I’ve given him enough time to come to me with a progress update and now I’m done pussy footing around.

He starts to talk and falters, like he’s flustered. “Oh, for fuck's sake, I don’t need a blow by blow of whatever the fuck is going on between you and Doc Em. I just want to know that you have that cunt handled.”

“I have it under control.” His voice is low and betrays the emotion he’s so desperately trying to hide. I don’t know who he thinks he’s fooling, but it’s sure as shit not me.

“Past or present tense?” I push.

“Present… but imminently past,” he replies, the pitch of his voice shifting to a tone so low and menacing I pity the idiot who’s triggered Stefano’s wrath.

He may be one of the most even-tempered men I know, but he’s by no means harmless. There’s always been a darkness in him and it’s one I’m more than happy to have at my disposal. He’s not a man to be fucked with.

“Aurora.” He leans in to kiss my cheek as he takes his leave. “I’ll get to work on what we discussed.”

I follow Stefano out of the room and wave him off as I pass the kitchen and detour towards the smell of freshly cooked bacon. I see my family huddled on stools around the kitchen island, fighting like feral seagulls over the rashers of greasy goodness.

Benny snatches the plate out from underneath them and tries to swivel on his stool and walk off with it, but he’s stopped in his tracks by both Nico and Sinclair, who block his escape.

“You know you’re not allowed to eat that,” Nico snaps as Sinclair wrestles it out of his grip. “Not for the next few weeks.”

From the looks of the way he starts tapping his foot and clenching his fists, Benny’s about to unleash his inner brat, so I slide up behind him, wrap my arms around his waist, and turn him towards me. “It’s only for a few more weeks and then we’ll go easy on the diet. But you just had multiple bits of your digestive tract stitched back together.” I stand on tip-toes and pull his face to mine, stroking my tongue across the seam of his lips and coaxing the determined scowl off of his face.

Then I whisper as quietly as I can, “Do as they say. You’ve got enough punishments stored up already. Your ass is going to be red raw when you get signed off by Doc Em.”

“Well, when you put it like that.” He shrugs and gifts me with his most adorable smile before turning to Enzo. “What dull as fuck breakfast am I being tortured with today?”

I look around the kitchen and happiness radiates through me as I take in each of my men, so fucking grateful that they’re mine.

Nico grabs Benny around his waist and drags him to stand between his legs as he perches on the stool. Shuffling to get more comfortable, Benny sinks his back against Nico's chest, tilting his head into the crook of his neck. Closing his eyes and breathing in his lover’s scent, Benny looks more relaxed than I’ve seen him in days. Keeping someone with as much excess energy as Benny relaxed has been more than a little challenging.

Sinclair takes his increasingly familiar post at their side. The caretaker of our group, ever present and always ready with whatever we need. He’s already reaching across for Benny’s bowl of fruit and yoghurt and ignores Benny when he turns up his nose, shoving the spoon in his hand.

I sidle up beside Enzo as he turfs out the last of the crispy bacon on to the serving plate. I walk my fingers along his forearm and up his sleeve to the neck on his shirt. He’s wearing a turtle-neck and I hook a finger over the top of it, trying to pull it down.

“Are you going to tell me what this neckline is about, Zo?” I say, pulling it harder and catching a glimpse of what looks like saran wrap against his skin. Well, that is intriguing.

Before I can glean any more, he bats away my hand. “Unhand me, woman, and eat your breakfast. It’s a surprise. You’ll just have to wait.” Giving in, I release him and circle the island to hop up onto the stool next to Sin and dig in to breakfast.

Sitting with them like this fills me with a joy I’ll never be able to adequately express. It’s like I’m enveloped in a layer of devotion. In my darkest hour, happiness like this was something I never had enough hope to dream of. But now that I have it, I won’t ever take it for granted.

I’ll do whatever it takes to protect them.

To keep them.

To love them.

Now and for always. They’re mine and I am theirs.

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