by J. J. McAvoy
The way he said it, without doubt, eagerly, like he’d been locked up and finally set free to cause chaos… It sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to know what he was going to do with this power and how he got it.
“On top of that, Wilson Bank has been scamming average people,” he went on without missing a beat. “The moment your federal government and people found out, Wilson started hiding their secret funds even deeper. I didn’t have time to be chasing down accounts so I secretly tipped off two lifelong employees - who happened to be in anger management - to the fact that they were penniless. I let their anger grow and then waited for today, where I used that small window of chance to copy all hidden accounts and then delete access to them. The money will be frozen there, untouchable, even though they know it’s there. And if they try to get access to it, they’ll expose themselves. So, other than the fact that your aunt once upon a time owned the bank, it has nothing to do with the Callahan family and everything to do with me. Detailed enough?”
It was at this point that I relaxed. I was already sitting back down by now and smiling as I too began to eat. “So, you, like everyone else, are out for revenge?”
“No.” He shook his head, looking me dead in the eye as he said, “I’m out for what is mine by right, Donatella.”
The look in his eyes as he spoke was like a raging fire. He looked dangerous… Even to me, who grew up with men that embodied danger.
“What does that mean?”
Buzz.
Of course, his phone would pick now to go off! I thought, annoyed as he picked it up and hit answer, only to say, “You may come in.”
I looked to the door as it opened and seven men entered, dressed in black suits, one tall brown-skinned man stood in front of the two rows of guards.
“You really do enjoy making my job difficult, Your Highness,” the tall man said to Gabriel.
What? I laughed to myself in disbelief, looking over to the man. “Please tell me that is an insult.”
He looked at me, confused, and then back at Gabriel, forcing me to look at him, too. When I did, I saw that same wicked grin he’d had at the bank, and I couldn’t bring myself to speak. So, he spoke instead.
“I don’t have last name… I just have title,” he whispered, then loudly stated. “Sebastian…my title.”
“Prince Gabriel Honoré Déllacqua III, Hereditary Prince of Monaco, the Marquis of Baux.”
“Thank you, Sebastian. You all may leave, I’ll be here for the night,” he said, and as they took their exit, I took a deep breath, only speaking once the door closed was behind them.
“While that does explain why you’re such an entitled prick,” I spoke as if it all meant nothing, lifting my fork and pulling the lobster meat from its small shell. “It still doesn’t explain why you are in my city and not in Monaco.”
“Is it your city, or your brother’s?”
“It’s the Callahan City. I am a Callahan.”
“But a Callahan still under another Callahan,” he stated as fact. Reaching it his pocket, he put a black velvet box between us. “You said you wanted power, respect, and recognition. You do not want to bow down to anyone…not even your brother. As my wife, you can have all of that. Your brothers will have to bow to you. Since I don’t have a last name, once I take the throne, you’ll forever be known as Her Serene Highness Donatella Aviela Callahan, The Princess of Monaco.”
He opened the box and inside sat a large, red, radiant cut diamond on a thin platinum, diamond-studded band. It was beautiful. I wanted it. I wanted all of it. However, reason stopped me from jumping in head first.
Getting to my feet slowly, smiling, I walked the small distance over to his side of the table, leaning on the edge right near his hands.
“A prince comes out of nowhere, offering me everything I want on a silver platter, that sounds too good to be true,” I whispered, pulling out my gun and pointing it directly at his chest. “And if it sounds too good to be true, my father told me to shoot first and ask more questions second. Seeing as how you’ve already been shot, I’ll skip to my question. Why me? I’m sure there is a duchess or countess or whatever somewhere in Europe that can be your princess. Me, I’m just a girl from Chicago.”
“Where in the hell have you been hiding that?” he asked, gesturing to the gun, baffled and amused but not afraid. He looked over me quickly as he tried to answer his own question.
I pulled back on the hammer.
“Just a girl from Chicago,” he laughed, grabbing my wrist and lifting my hand up until the barrel of the gun was at his forehead. “So then…the rest of the world knows you are a fighter,” he replied, using my own words from earlier against me. “Over the last two decades Monaco has become come a growing power in Europe. It is one of the very few monarchies left in the world which hold any real power. As you know, with power come enemies. Before my mother died, she looked high and low for girl who would make my position stronger, but would still be intelligent, beautiful, and charming enough to be a princess. And your mother appeared, promising you’d be everything I needed, and she was right. What use is a duchess or countess who is only well read with a pretty face? I need a woman who is not afraid to get her hands bloody.”
“And mine are already stained.” I grinned, putting the hammer back in place and shaking his hand off. Switching the gun to my other hand, I said, “Some fairytale this is.”
“Fairytales are for the weak-minded, Donatella. We don’t love each other. We don’t need to love each other. What we need is more power. One marriage and we both get it. Why rule a city when you could rule a nation?”
I stretched out my left hand and lifted the fourth finger. He took the ring from the box and slid it on to my finger. It fit perfectly, the flame of the candle reflecting in the red diamond. I couldn’t see myself, but I knew my smile must have been just as mischievous and depraved as his.
There was only one thing to say, and I said it proudly, “Long may we reign.”
“With all prestige and unwavering might,” he said, looking me in the eye as he kissed the back of my hand.
It might have been the wine. It might have been the conversation. It might have even been the sheer excitement of what was to come. It might have been all of those things all at once that made us both look at each other with lust.
Within a second his lips were on mine, his hard chest pressed up against me. One hand on my ass as the other grabbed my breast through my top. His tongue was in my mouth, brushing around mine. He was overwhelming. Every one of my senses was taken by him. We moaned into each other mouths, and I could feel him getting harder against me. He kissed me to take my breath away, to give me no space to deny him. His kiss moved from my lips, down my jaw and to my neck, sending chills down my spine.
I wanted him…but…
“Stop.” I didn’t just say it, I grabbed a fistful of his dirty blond hair and pulled his hair back, forcing him to him to look me in the eyes. The look of pain in his gray eyes, most likely from the bulge I could feel pressed against my stomach, told me just how he felt about being stopped. “A ring only gets you this far. I’ll need a crown if you want to go any further.”
Letting him go, I pushed back and stood up straighter, fixing my top as I walked to the stairs.
“How soon do you want it?” he asked and inhaled through his nose as he tried to calm down. “The bank is finished; the ring is on your finger. I need nothing else from Chicago. My father will step down from the throne on my thirtieth birthday. I need to be in Monaco by then.”
“And when is your thirtieth birthday?”
“Three days.”
This son of bitch.
“Give me twenty-four hours,” I replied, walking back up the stairs without saying anything else.
GABRIEL
Abandon everything you’ve ever known and follow me.
That was what I’d just asked her to do. She was born and raised in Chicago. When she spoke about it earlier, I knew she loved this city and I wor
ried she wouldn’t be able to leave. However, once again, she proved she was the woman I needed. Many people spoke about gaining power, but very few were willing to sacrifice to get it. Both of our families stood at the top because those who came before us were willing to put anything and everything on the line to get there.
My father used to ask me, “How can you rule men if you act like one?”
The answer was simple: you can’t.
Like the Pharaohs of the past, you must be half-man, half-god.
“Sebastian,” I spoke into the phone in my hand, pouring the rest of the wine into my glass, “we’ll be returning home in twenty-four hours.”
“Understood, Your Highness.”
Hanging up, I took my glass, walking out on to the balcony, unable to stop the grin on my face as I looked up at the flickering light of the Wilson Bank logo.
“Soon,” I whispered and drank. Soon they’d all be on their knees crying tears of blood, begging me to spare them.
And I’ll place my heels on their heads so they can drink their own tears.
TWENTY
“If you really want to do something, you'll find a way. If you don't, you'll find an excuse.”
~ Jim Rohn
DONATELLA
When I came out of the bedroom the next morning, dressed in an ash-gray, off-the-shoulder, cocktail dress and butterfly Louboutin heels, there were many more people within the suite, all of whom were buzzing around Gabriel like bees. I was surprised at his appearance, his choice of clothes. Since he’d arrived in Chicago, I had only seen him in casual, laid-back clothes designed and worn for comfort. Never looking bad, but still not as stylish as he was now; dressed in a slim fit, perfectly tailored, beige suit with a light blue shirt and gray tie and brown spectators. His hair had been freshly trimmed and styled.
Hearing me walk in, he turned to face me fully, and when he did, everyone else automatically stepped back, giving us space.
“Good morning,” he greeted with a smile.
“Depends on who you are,” I replied, looking him over before reaching for his tie and pulling it down so I could take it off easier. Looking over to the rack of clothes, I walked over and picked out another one. He lifted his collar up for me as I put it over his shoulder.
“You aren’t going to tie it for me, too?” he asked, lifting his hands up to finish tying it.
“According to my brothers, I don’t know how to tie a tie well,” I admitted, crossing my arms. “And seeing as you’re all dressed up for some reason, I’m sure you didn’t want me to try and perfect it now.”
“Your Highness,” the same woman with tan skin, long brown hair, and the big hazel puppy-dog eyes came forward, handing him a box.
“Who is this woman and why is she always in my line of sight?” I asked him sweetly, which made him give me a look.
“This is Amelia du Bellay, who, for all intents and purposes, is your first assistant. She’ll help you get acclimated once we arrive in Monaco tomorrow,” he answered, taking the box from her hand.
“Good morning, Madame,” she directed at me.
“Madame? That makes me think of a brothel-keeper,” I made a face and laughed. “Call me Donatella; that is, until you call me Your Highness. And when we are together like this,” I pointed between myself and Gabriel, “please make sure to be three steps away.”
She stared at me like deer frozen in the middle of the road. I lifted my fingers up and said “Un. Deux. Trois.”
Blinking, she took three steps back, and I faced Gabriel again. He was holding a red carnation brooch, the stem of the flower made of white diamonds, and a red teardrop diamond on top of second row of white diamonds. Brushing my hair to the side, he leaned in and pinned it on my dress and whispered, “Try being tad less combative.”
Leaning forward, I whispered loudly, for them all to hear, “I’m giving her a chance to prove herself. If I get to Monaco tomorrow and find out there are rumors of me being mean or bitchy, I’ll blame her. And let my second assistant take her place.”
“Second assistant?” he asked, straightening up to putting on a tie bar with the same carnation design engraved on it and ignoring everything I’d just said. Then again, it wasn’t a message for him.
“You’ll meet her when we leave. I don’t trust your people. I barely trust you. Of course, I won’t go alone,” I told him, already walking to the door. And when I moved, a few of his guards moved with me. To them I said, “Gentlemen, where I come from, guards will gladly die for the person they are protecting. They live and breathe for that person. Their wives are jealous at the degree of their devotion. I tell you this because today you will be tested. Your prince,” I pointed to Gabriel, “is going to face my brothers and explain why I’m leaving them and the city we all grew up in for…” I paused as the words hit me again, “for the rest of my life. I’ve made up my mind and there is no going back unless they kill him, so…make sure he lives through the next twenty-four hours.”
“I’m sure I handle my own,” he said, walking up to me.
I laughed. “Do you have a sister?”
“One, half-sister.”
“Not the same and I’m guessing you don’t like her very much,” I shot back quickly. “So you have idea what you are about to face, my family doesn’t handle goodbyes well.”
He rolled his eyes at me. “I hardly believe your brothers are so attached that they’re going to lose their minds because you are getting married. Speaking of marriage… They’ll be at the wedding, so it isn’t a goodbye.”
I looked his guards. “You all do have wills prepared, correct?”
“Sebastian,” Gabriel said as if he was bored. “Let’s go before she claims they breathe fire, too.”
I shrugged, saying, “Foretold our fate but, by the gods’ decree, all heard, and none believed the prophecy.”
Gabriel looked over to me. “Homer's Iliad? You’re Cassandra of Troy now?”
“You’re one-eighth Greek. I was speaking in a language I thought you would understand.” I winked, stepping onto the elevator once it arrived and spinning back on my heels to face him.
He grinned, shaking his head and stepping in beside me. “Forgive me, Madame, I’ll heed your warning. Happy?”
I pointed the space over my head. “Not until there is something expensive and sparkly sitting right here.”
He sighed deeply. “What is the life expectancy in Monaco now?”
“Ninety-one point two-one years, Sir,” Sebastian replied. “It’s still the highest in the world.”
“Brilliant,” Gabriel muttered. “Only sixty-one point two-one years of life with a mad woman to go…”
“Not if I don’t kill you earlier,” I muttered back. I felt everyone around me, with the exception of Gabriel, tense. He didn’t say anything more.
“Donatella,” Amelia whispered right behind me in my ear.
“Drop it,” Gabriel ordered coldly. She didn’t say anything, just moved back as the doors opened.
I now regretted not getting further information on him last night. After reaching out to Jackal and having her confirm he was who he claimed to be, I told her to gather as much information on him as she could and to bring it to me later. She’d been unable find anything the first time around but now, after our little hostage situation, she was able to confirm who he was. I had feeling he’d done something, liked stopped doing whatever he’d been doing to block information about himself from getting out. Then I had more personal things to arrange. Without the information I needed, I was lost at the conversation and mood change. That needed to change quickly.
“Have a good day,” the valets said we walked outside.
There, three black range rovers were waiting. It was only when I was inside sitting next to Gabriel did I ask.
“What was that about?”
“Right now, according to you, I needed to survive your brothers before we get into anything else,” he responded, adjusting his watch. “Any idea how to do that?”
&
nbsp; “I’m not picking sides—”
“Wrong,” He cut me off. We were back to that bullshit again. “You picked my side Donatella, or at least, I thought you did. I truly hope I’m not wrong and that you aren’t secretly hoping your brother’s wishes top yours.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, glaring at him.
“You’ve been here at the edge of everything you’ve always wanted be,” he said, looking out the window as we drove through the city. “And recently, you held back. You convinced yourself it was to save your family or something of that sort…either way, you stepped away from power, not towards it. Which means you didn’t really want it, or were too scared to take it. Right now, you might be in that same position, pretending you want power and pretending you are strong, but hoping your brothers will give you an out. Hoping that they’ll fight hard enough to stop you, allowing you to keep pretending you’re sacrificing but in reality, you’re too scared to go—”
“Keep talking and I will personally skin you alive, you motherfucking asshole. Here’s a tip if you want to make it the next sixty-one point two-one years. Don’t speak about things you don’t know; you could lose your goddamn tongue!” I sneered at him, clenching my fist at the very familiar rage building up in me.
“What don’t I know?” he asked coldly, looking over to me, all traces of humor gone from his eyes. “What it must be like to contemplate killing your siblings? Love, there is no monarchy on Earth that did not commit fratricide. Killing our own is what we are good at. And for the record, the reason I came to you now, and not weeks earlier, was because of rumors that you were going to kill them. I had to wait for you to choose. While I’m grateful you didn’t kill them, because then leaving Chicago would have no longer been an option for you, I am left to wonder if you truly want what you say you want.”
Kill him. I should have fucking killed him. “I’m in the fuckin’ car, aren’t I?”
