Page 56 of Sincerely, Butterfly

Not literally, but in the sense that their lives have changed. For the better or for the worse, I couldn’t tell you, but their lifestyles sure are different. They leave with more money in their bank accounts than they went in with.

I don’t want the money, I couldn’t care less about it.

As my eyes slowly travel over the group, I notice a few things. While there’s a mix of different body shapes and sizes, what remains the same are two things: one, we’re all dressed in practically nothing, only bras, underwear, or lingerie, and two, we’re all wearing a different style of mask to cover our faces, hiding our identity.

I have a bit more of an advantage.

My men have been around me a few times throughout the years, not long enough to really know what I look like underneath my clothes. The only thing they’ve really seen is my hair and my face.

Blonde is common, and my face is hidden, so I shouldn’t be easily recognizable.

I don’t have any distinct markings like tattoos or piercings.

If I bite my tongue and try not to make a sound, they won’t be able to pick me out of the crowd. All it takes is a simple change of clothes to hide my identity.

And tonight, I plan on using it to my advantage.

These girls, on the other hand, I can name each and every one ofthem by their voice, the tattoos on their bodies, or the way they carry themselves.

They are some of the very girls who have spent years throwing nasty words my way and talking down to me because I wasn’t what they deemed normal. I wasn’t up totheirstandards.

As it turns out, money alone doesn’t mean much in our little society. In their eyes, you need to show that you have it by flaunting it with cars, clothes, and accessories. You need to look the part for them to treat you with any amount of respect.

I’ve never been one to worry about my appearance; not caring about my braces back when I had them, how my hair could be wild and unkempt, or the blemishes that marred my face when I hit puberty. I am who I am, and no one can change the way I see myself. No matter how hard they tried.

If I were to ever change, it would be for me, and me only.

That's why, standing here in a white silk nightgown with my hair down in long beach waves and a mask concealing half my face, has me feeling open and exposed.

I’m missing my go-to oversized hoodie and sweats right about now. I’m debating on turning around and leaving to go back to the warm comfort of my home.

But I can’t. I came here for a reason, and I’m going to follow through.

All of those doubtful thoughts drift away the moment three figures appear out of the shadows.

The whispers die just like they did when I arrived, and the reality of what is about to happen sets in.

A breath gets caught in my throat, the nervous flutters morphing into a heavy warmth in my lower belly. With each passing second, I let my eyes soak more of them in. My breathing begins to grow shallow, skin pebbling with arousal as a dull pulse starts in my clit.

There they are.

Seeing them like this, standing tall, dressed in the traditional attire of the Brotherhood of Blood and Death with long black coats concealing their bodies, the plague doctor masks hiding their faces, has something inside me shifting.

My core tightens, and my nipples harden intostiff peaks.

They’ve always given off this powerful energy. One that screamsdon’t fuck with me, that they could destroy everything you know and love just because they could.

But now, there’s a different side of them. They radiate not just power, but this sense of immortality.

All laws, morals, and humanity are gone.

They are the gods, the ones you should fear.

Even though they wear the same attire as everyone else, I know for a fact that these are my men. My three monsters.

The ones who run this city. The three that live by power, money, and death.

These are the three sons of some of the most powerful families in not only the country, but the world.