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She smiled despite herself. Across the garage, Butcher looked up immediately like he sensed her watching him, and their eyes locked. Just like always lately, the rest of the world disappeared for a second. God—that man was becoming a problem. A very large, tattooed, emotionally complicated problem.

Butcher wiped grease from his hands before walking toward them. “You two talking shit again?”

“Always,” Wade answered cheerfully.

Princess crossed her arms innocently. “Mostly about you.”

“I figured,” Butcher grumbled. He stopped beside her automatically, one hand settling low against her back like he couldn’t help himself anymore. Not that she minded. Actually, she liked it entirely too much. Possessive little touches were quiet reassurance to her. It was a constant awareness between them. Wade seemed to notice all of it with the satisfaction of a man watching his matchmaking plans succeed in real time.

“You know,” he said casually, “the guys are meeting tonight to talk charter business.”

Princess blinked. “Oh.” Reality came rushing back hard as Wade told her about the new club—the one that Butcher formedto help protect her. Because while she’d been getting distracted, falling into bed with Butcher every night, he’d apparently been rebuilding an entire life around her. That realization still hit hard every single time.

Butcher’s thumb brushed lightly against her spine. “You don’t have to look guilty every time somebody mentions the club.”

Her eyes snapped toward him. “I’m not looking guilty.”

“Princess,” Butcher said her name like it was a warning. Okay, maybe she felt a little guilty, because no matter how Butcher framed this, she knew the truth. If she hadn’t shown up here, he wouldn’t be doing any of this. There would be no club, no need for a patch, and no dragging himself back toward the brotherhood he spent ten years running from. It was all because she brought danger to his door.

Princess looked away first. “This is changing your whole life.”

Butcher went quiet beside her. “Maybe my life needed changing.” The soft honesty in his voice nearly wrecked her.

Wade made a disgusted sound, drawing their attention back to him. “Oh my God, you two are becoming emotionally healthy together. I hate it here.”

Princess laughed while Butcher flipped him off. And for one perfect second, everything felt okay—until the front door of the garage opened. The entire room shifted instantly, and Princess felt it before she even turned around.

Three men walked inside wearing expensive clothes that looked wildly out of place in a Mississippi body shop. Her blood went cold immediately, because she knew that they were from Chicago. She knew that they weren’t from her father’s inner circle, thank God, but they were close enough.

Princess recognized one of them instantly—Marco. He was one of her father’s soldiers. Fear punched through her chest hard enough to hurt. Butcher felt her freeze beside him, andhis body seemed to react immediately. One second, she stood exposed in the middle of the garage, and the next, Butcher moved slightly in front of her without hesitation.

Marco’s eyes landed on her instantly. “There you are, Principessa.” Princess’s stomach dropped.

Butcher’s voice turned deadly calm beside her. “You know her?” Marco’s attention finally shifted toward Butcher slowly, and he smiled. His expression was cold enough to make Princess feel sick.

“You must be the mechanic.” Marco adjusted his cuffs casually. “You have something that belongs to Mr. Romano.” Rage exploded through her instantly. God, she hated that word—belongs.

“She doesn’t belong to anybody,” Butcher said quietly. Every man in the garage went still because the tone in his voice was deadly.

Marco smiled wider. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Funny,” Butcher replied calmly. “Feels like it concerns me a whole fucking lot.” Princess’s pulse hammered painfully while Wade moved closer behind Butcher, calling the rest of the guys in from the yard. It was as though they instinctually knew what to do. They moved around Butcher like a wall forming. They were a club, acting as brothers, and her chest tightened unexpectedly at the sight. Marco seemed to notice too. She could tell by the way that his expression darkened slightly.

“You don’t understand who you’re interfering with,” Marco spat.

Butcher took one slow step forward, and Princess realized something terrifying—he wasn’t intimidated. At all. “I understand. I just don’t care,” he said simply.

Silence crashed through the garage. Princess stared at him in disbelief, because no one talked to her father’s men this way—no one. Fear and power ruled in Chicago, but Butcher looked at mob soldiers like they were just another problem to solve.

Marco’s smile disappeared completely. “Mr. Romano wants his daughter returned.”

Princess finally found her voice. “I’m not coming back.” Marco looked at her like she was a child throwing a tantrum.

“You don’t have a choice,” he said. That seemed to be the wrong thing to say. The temperature in the room dropped instantly, and Butcher’s expression turned absolutely lethal.

“The lady already gave you her answer,” he growled. That was the exact moment everything changed. This wasn’t about running and hiding anymore. It wasn’t a temporary layover. Lines had just been drawn in blood, and there was no turning back now. She just hoped like hell that it wasn’t going to be drawn in Butcher or his new club’s blood, because that would gut her.

BUTCHER