Children of Ambition

by J. J. McAvoy

  I wanted to touch her. It was as if she were fire drawing me closer to her brightness, but I could only get so far before she burned me.

  “You’re right,” I whispered in the space between us. “But I’m not waiting to strike just you; I’m coming for everyone,” I replied, lifting her chin and kissing her lips hard, only to be slapped across the face with such force that my lip cut on my tooth. Licking the corner my mouth, I told the truth, “The kiss was worth it.”

  “Fuck you.”

  “I want you to give me a time and a date,” I replied.

  She was breathing hard and for a quick second, there was lust in her at last, but she’d pushed it down and grabbed the handle of her door to open it. “Don’t push your luck anymore tonight.”

  “It wasn’t luck that I had tonight, but skill,” I said, walking to edge of her door. “Have you ever seen a wolf-dog as they die?”

  She flinched, her whole body freezing, her eyes going wide as she stared at me. I went on as if I didn’t notice.

  “In those final moments, the pain becomes so bad, the dog part of them dies, and all that’s left is the wounded wolf. The wolf knows to fight to their final breath. It doesn’t care who or what, it could even be another wolf-dog, their own pup, and it will still claw and bite and rip them apart. No more friends or foes… It’s blind to everything else but its own survival… You remind me of a dying wolf-dog, Donatella. And its shame because you don’t have to die.”

  I stepped out of the room, but she continued stand in the doorway; unblinking and staring at the space in which I had once stood. Frozen.

  “I look forward to tomorrow’s battle. If everything goes as planned, I’ll be able to explain what it is I’m waiting for.”

  She slammed the door closed.

  Till tomorrow then.

  DONATELLA

  Sitting in front of the mirror, I couldn’t get Gabriel’s words out of my ears. They just kept replaying on a loop in my mind.

  You remind me of dying wolf-dog, Donatella.

  You remind me of dying wolf-dog, Donatella.

  A…dying wolf-dog, Donatella—

  “I’m not dying,” I said to my reflection. Reaching up I felt the burning in my throat…unsure of where the pain was coming from.

  “I’m not dying.”

  THIRTEEN

  “The Devil is real and he’s not some little red man with horns and a tail. He can be beautiful because he's a fallen angel and he used to be God's favorite.”

  ~ Leah (American Horror Story)

  DONATELLA

  He was the Devil.

  And this was Karma.

  I had killed Tobias and so now I had…Satan. I was sure of his identity now. How else could one man walk into this family and make a mess of things so quickly? He caused chaos and destruction whenever he opened his mouth. What was worse, I wasn’t sure how to escape this yet… And just like always, it seemed I’d been left on my own to deal with the aftermath of someone else’s shit.

  Satan had decided to marry me.

  Of course, this was the type of life I had.

  I really am a Greek tragedy in the making.

  “Should I gouge out my eyes?” I whispered softly to myself as I floated in the water of the pool.

  And Satan replied, “Seeing as you are already in water, why don’t you stick with Shakespeare and drown yourself?”

  Opening my eyes and allowing my legs to drop down as I stood, I looked to where he was now sitting; in my white pool chair, drinking my smoothie, while once again reading the same book from lunch.

  “And you’re here, why?”

  “Here in this house? Or here at the pool?” he questioned, not bothering to look at me…even though I was half naked in the water…that was new.

  “The pool,” I said swimming to the edge and rising from the water.

  “Can’t a man visit his fiancée as she swims?” he questioned.

  The word fiancée from his lips was worse than a thousand nails on a thousand chalkboards. He wants to fight, Dona! I reminded myself and I wondered if salt wouldn’t keep him away, then maybe sugar would.

  “You’re absolutely right,” I said sweetly, walking up to him and at the tone in my voice he made a face before glancing up. The moment he did, he couldn’t look away; his eyes following the beads of water as they slid down the space between my breasts and past my stomach, not stopping until they disappeared into the waistband of my black bikini bottoms. I walked over, sat beside him on my chair, and leaned forward while brushing my hair to the side, “Forgive me sweetheart for being so harsh. Can you hand me a towel?”

  “You’re free to get it yourself, my love,” he replied just as kindly, shifting to the side for me to take the towel that was right beside his waist. “Your poor nipples look like bullets.”

  Gritting my teeth, I reached over carefully to take the towel, my eyes never leaving his and his gray eyes never leaving mine. He seemed completely amused. The longer he stared, the more annoyed I became. I even thought about strangling him with the damn towel, but resisted and wrapped it around myself instead.

  “Gabriel?”

  “Yes, Donatella?” He nodded, closing his book.

  “I’m a very reasonable person, you seem like you are capable of being reasonable too—”

  “I’m not though,” he said, sitting up. “I’m wrathful, demanding, and vindictive. I’m only reasonable when it comes to things which benefit me. So, Donatella, what is it you need my reason for?”

  Punch him! Beat his insolent ass into the next century! Not only did this cunt interrupt me, he had the nerve to challenge me even when I was trying to be nice.

  Inhaling, I went on as if he hadn’t said anything, “My brothers will never let you take Italy.”

  “I guess we’re getting married then.”

  My fist clenched so tightly I could feel my nails digging into my palm but I smiled. “Perhaps you have not noticed but I’m temperamental, prone to violence, and hostile to authority… I doubt you want a wife like that.”

  He snickered, nodding in agreement before saying; “I’m sure you’ll change; after all, look how sweet you are right now, dear.”

  “Or you could find another wife.”

  He sat up and grabbed my chin. “I could but I doubt she’d come with the same fearsome attitude, and round, slap-able ass, so pick a date and a nice dress.”

  He brushed me off and got up.

  At that point, I’d lost all my patience. I took off my towel to swing it at his head, but he dodged and grabbed on to it, pulling me close. In retaliation, I kicked right into his chest and he stumbled back, only slipping slightly before regaining his footing.

  “I tried being nice—”

  “Was that you being nice?” he laughed, tossing his book onto the pool chair. “I thought you were constipated—”

  My fist hit his jaw and caused his head to twist to the side for a second.

  “I’m sorry, you were saying?” I told him while lifting my fist up.

  He licked his lip, just like last night, and glared at me, not saying a word. Before I knew what he was planning, he bent down and pulled on the towel I didn’t realize I was standing on, sending me on the ground…hard.

  “Fuck—uh!” I screamed out as he grabbed on to my ankle and dragged me until I felt my body hit the water. Bubbles and water rising around me, I opened my eyes, and tried to swim up but before I could, my back was slammed against the wall of the pool, and his hand was wrapped around my neck. My eyes went wide as I stared at him calmly pinning me underwater against the wall.

  Let GO! I mentally screamed at him, trying to push his arms away. But he didn’t budge and the more I struggled, the more my vision began to tunnel…stupidly forgetting that the more energy I used, the harder it was for me to hold my breath. So, I tried to calm down, but it was too late, my lungs were already burning as I hadn’t breathed when he threw me in. Reaching up, I grabbed his wrist and dug my nails in as hard as I could, but he s
tared at me emotionlessly…coldly, not even caring as I drew blood.

  There was a sensation I hadn’t felt in a long time…fear. It creeped on me as the pain in my lungs got even worse.

  Dona, I made you, and I made you strong, beautiful, and fearless. My mother’s voice came into the back of my mind.

  And then my father’s voice, I could give away everything I owned, Dona, and even then, it wouldn’t come close to equaling you. You are worth the world, princess.

  In that moment, I could focus on him, the man in front of me, and I let go of his wrist, smiling at him sincerely before opening my mouth and inhaling… And a split second before everything went dark, I saw the shock and panic that came over his eyes, forcing him to let me go.

  I win. I thought happily.

  GABRIEL

  She was bloody insane!

  Completely mental!

  “Come on.” I pinched her nose before breathing into her mouth and placing my hands over her chest. “You’d really rather die? Is that what you’re saying? COME ON!”

  “WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!”

  BANG.

  That was all I heard. It felt like my arm was on fire, and I was on my back beside the pool, the back of my head hitting the ground so hard my ears started to ring. When I opened them again, it was none other than the elder standing over me, rage in his eyes, a gun smoking in his hand.

  Did he fucking shoot me? I thought, and got my answer when I tried to sit up and he stepped on my shoulder. No, the bullet had only grazed my arm but it still hurt like a fucking bitch.

  “Ugh!” I bit my teeth when together he stepped harder.

  “I gave you the benefit of the doubt for my grandmother’s sake,” he spoke above me. “But it seems that was mistake on my part.”

  There was no saving myself from this apparently, so I tried to ignore the pain and looked up at him calmly.

  “Is she alright?” I asked.

  He pulled back the hammer of the gun; “What right do you have to ask?”

  “She’s my fiancée.”

  “And when did it become acceptable to try and kill the person you are engaged to?”

  “Didn’t your mother shoot your father when they were engaged?” I asked, more than ready for him to get off my shoulder.

  “Ethan.” I heard her voice call out to him and only then did I take a breath of relief. The voice was faint, but it was her.

  He moved off me and grabbed on to my shoulder. Blood now covered the whole left side of me when I sat up. It wasn’t just Ethan; Wyatt was bent in front Dona and checking her pulse. Helen, her cousin, wrapping a towel around her, and Ivy, standing by the door. And most notably, at least twelve guards now in the pool.

  “I wouldn’t move if I was you.” Make that thirteen guards, I thought, feeling the gun at the back of my head.

  Well, this is a bloody mess, isn’t it?

  Ethan reached out to help her up, but her legs wobbled and she tried to push him off. There was something odd about it…however Ethan just grabbed on to her, lifting her up. Wyatt stood up in place for a moment before looking to me, and I was sure as anything else in this world, he was thinking of a way to get rid of me.

  “Lock him in his room,” Ethan said as they all moved to leave.

  All of them were looking forward but her. Donatella, looking over Ethan’s shoulder, grinned brightly at me and winked… And the moment Ivy looked to her, Dona’s expression changed to pain…the witch.

  She wasn’t trying to die. She was trying make sure I did! In the back of my mind I could see her laughing like the little madwoman she was…

  This isn’t over, sweetheart.

  “Get up!” they yelled, pulling me to my feet.

  “Gentle, I bruise easily,” I joked. Apparently, they didn’t find it funny…and whatever they then hit me with made everything dark.

  ***

  “Fuckin’ shit,” I hissed when I woke up. I wasn’t sure what hurt more, my head or my arm. When I reached up to touch my arm, I felt the bandages wrapped around it and was thankful they at least had the common sense not to let me bleed on the floor.

  “You awake, sweetheart?” The madwoman asked softly, and when I opened my eyes, I realized I was not on my bed, but on the floor. I rolled over and saw her sitting on the vintage chaise by the window. She was dressed in a short navy dress, her smooth thighs tucked underneath her as she happily ate her vanilla ice-cream from a crystal bowl. She grinned, the small spoon on her lips. “You should go back to sleep, you’re much safer there.”

  “You knew your brothers would save you, which is why you inhaled the water,” I groaned, sitting up, “But for a brief moment you were scared, weren’t you?”

  “I’m a Callahan, I don’t—”

  “Bullshit,” I cut her off. “For a brief moment, you thought I was going to kill you, and you got scared.”

  Her green eyes narrowed on me as she sucked on her spoon, which left me both turned on and annoyed. “Was that brief moment worth you now being chained to a bed post?”

  “Chained?” I questioned, glancing around. Sure enough, like a bloody prisoner, these people had me chained to the bed. I reached for it and then looked back at her. “What 90’s prison did you all steal this from?”

  “That’s your reply? You think you’re in a position to be witty?”

  I nodded, leaning back on the bed. “If you all were going to kill me; I’d be dead already. But seeing as you have treated my wounds and given me at least some type of drug, I’m not going to die.”

  “Don’t rush to assume…both of my brothers are fond of torture,” she reminded me.

  “So am I, and even if you want to keep your prisoner alive, you don’t take care of him this well. So, my love, try again.” I winked at her. Her jaw cracked the side, and she put her ice-cream to the side. Rising from the chaise, her bare feet on the wooden floor, she walked over to me and knelt right in front me. “Careful… I could try to kill you again. You’ve been here for a less than a week and in that time, you’ve been shot, punched, mobbed, and threatened…and still you don’t seem in the least bit worried about your life. Either you’re insane or whatever your family used to get my parents to agree to our marriage is much more important than I thought.”

  I leaned forward and whispered, “Both.”

  She was calm now, calmer than I’d ever seen her, and I wasn’t sure if it was because she planned on stabbing me to death with a spoon or she was really trying to think.

  “Who are you?” she pressed. “More importantly, what mafia family are you linked too?”

  “Are you asking or your brother?”

  She leaned in closed to my face and said, “Both.”

  “And here I thought you were trying to oust your brothers. First you use them to get to me, and now you are in here trying to get information for them.”

  She didn’t flinch, just stared me down like a wolf. Her eyes were mesmerizing, I didn’t want to look away.

  It’s the drugs, I tried to lie to myself.

  “I use a lot of people,” she finally spoke again. “Using people doesn’t make you weak, it doesn’t mean I can’t fight on my own; it means I’m so strong I don’t need to. The reason I want to take power from my brothers is because I already have the power. Ethan and Wyatt, no matter what they may say or do, will have my back. I know it.”

  “Sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself, which is why you keep fighting with your brothers so openly,” I pushed back.

  “I want everyone to know. I want to publicly wear that crown. I want to see people have no choice but to bow down to me nowhere I go,” she admitted, rising and taking her ice-cream before heading back out the door. “Which is why I can’t marry someone I don’t know, someone who is weak and can’t protect themselves from my own brothers.”

  “Then who will you marry?” I asked her.

  “None of your—”

  “You are temperamental, prone to violence, and hostile to authority,” I
repeated her words to her, “on top of that, your family is feared, and you killed your last lover. Who would be insane enough to marry you? Who can even make it on to your list to be considered? What you want most is strength and power.”

  “If no one comes, I’ll stay single—”

  “And wither from the vixen every man wants to the old maid no one wanted. When you walk by they won’t speak in fear but laugh in judgement. It’s not fair really; a man can stay single all his life and no one would question him. But a single woman, no matter who you are, no matter what you are worth, or how much you accomplish, people will still consider you a failure.”

  “You really think I care—”

  “Not just them,” I cut her off. “I’m sure your brothers will have kids, and you’ll drop in importance even more, their kids will think something is wrong with you. Hell, with that temper of yours they may even fear you, crazy Aunt Dona. Ethan and Wyatt, to save their own, will start keeping you away. They’ll lock you up somewhere where the only power you will have is over peas and mashed potatoes—”

  She threw crystal bowl right beside my head and it shattered, cold chunks of ice-cream splattering on my face. Reaching up, I wiped some off my cheek with my thumb and tasted it. “There you are, love. I was beginning to worry the water had short-circuited your rage,” I said, my grin wide as I looked into the fire within her eyes.

  “You are dead-set on pissing me off!”

  “Only because I prefer that to your fake Stepford-wife smile,” I snapped back. She froze, as if that wasn’t what she expected to hear. “You have a temper, a tendency to break things due to that temper, and you are not above physical violence. I’m well aware, Donatella. I’ve seen it up close and personal for days now. But guess what? I’m neither shocked by it nor am I afraid of it. I. Am. Not. Afraid. Of. You. Or. Your. Bloody. Brothers! If I need to throw you back into the pool and hold you down until you calm down, I will. Though I might have to find a method which you won’t use to your advantage to harm yourself first.”