Page 62 of Savage Empire
He gave me security for the future to the tune of twenty million out of his own pockets. Twenty million dollarsandthe continued use of his credit card for daily expenses. I still can’t imagine what his motivation is for spending such a frivolous sum on me and my brother. We’re still practically strangers, even if Yordan has become attached to his hip these past few days.
Speaking of…
The front door swings open, the sound of footsteps and soft conversation hitting my ears as I drop the last dessert onto the cooling rack.Perfect timing,I muse silently, setting the hot baking sheet on top of the stove. I shed my oven mitts and brush off my hands, smiling down at the result of my work. Eight perfectly flakey and glistening turnovers filled with piping hot cinnamon apples.
“Fuck, it smells like Thanksgiving in here,” a deep voice rumbles happily. My eyes flick toward the entrance of the kitchen and I chuckle, finding Elio’s excited expression. “Yordan, dude, tell me she shares.”
My little brother swings around the corner, eyes lightened with eagerness. “Hell yeah, she does. Sharing is pretty much all she does with her desserts, lucky for us. She says baking takes away hunger, and it must be true because she barely eats her own stuff.”
“Well, these just came out so they’re too hot to eat,” I say, giving Yordan a pointed look. He’s burned his tongue far too many times, and he never learns from it.
“I want to make a joke about coming out, but I’m really never too hot to eat,” a new voice quips, almost startling me. Armani Moretti enters the kitchen, an unamused Apollo at his side.
The tattoo-covered man folds his arms over his chest, surveying the area with a soft grin. His dark hair is tied into a loose bun at the back of his neck, plenty of flyaway pieces framing his chiseled face. I haven’t seen him since the plane ride, but just as I noticed last time, Armani is lovely to look at. Like a supermodel covered in custom black and white art.
“Don’t make dirty jokes around the kid,” Apollo admonishes, glaring.
“Not a kid,” Yordan half-pouts.
“Hey, I could have meant that I’m always up for food,” Armani replies with a light shrug. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Yes, it’s my mind in the gutter,” Apollo drawls, sarcasm dripping from every word.
Armani smirks. “Glad we agree.” Turning his attention to me, he looks me up and down. “Great outfit, where’d you get it?”
A small huff of laughter leaves me. “Just some guy. My closet is full of things he picked out.”
“Sounds like a perfect man,” he muses, a tatted finger tapping his chin. “Fashion sense is one of the best qualities one can possess.”
“I was going to say he’s a bit extra,” I quip, popping a hand on my hip. “Half of the clothes are still laying around haphazardly around my room. I’m not sure I’ll be able to make them all fit in my closet and dresser.”
Armani’s shoulders stiffen and an unexpectedly determined look takes over his face. He grabs Yordan by the shoulder and begins to push him toward the stairs. “Show me this closet disaster. I have to fix it or I won’t sleep tonight.”
“Dude, it’s just a closet?—”
“Bite your tongue. I’ll have nightmares about this, Yordan. Nightmares. Show me the mess, now.”
I don’t know if I should laugh or how to react at all. Armani seems like he might have a panic attack if he can’t fix up my clothing organization. I don’t even think it’s that bad…Maybe I should ease his concern?
“Way to go, Rayna,” Elio comments, rolling his eyes. “You’ve gone and broken the boy on his first visit.”
“He’ll be insufferable if you tell him no,” Apollo adds, voice dark.
I hesitate, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. Sighing, I decide it’s not that big of a deal. The man made my life easier by curating a wardrobe for me, and I can’t even deny that he did an impeccable job. Every single piece he bought for me is something I can see myself wearing.
“You can take him up,” I tell my brother with a sigh.
Armani pumps a fist in victory. “Thank God, let’s go.”
“Just stay away from my top drawer,” I call out to them sternly. “My delicates are off limits.”
Yordan groans. “Fine, but we better not find anything gross in there.”
“Yordan!” I admonish. “There is nothinggrossabout my room.”
“No bedside table goodies?” Armani asks, smirking wide. “What a shame.” My jaw drops at his candor, and my brother grimaces, quickly covering his ears.
“Bro, not cool.”
