Children of Ambition

by J. J. McAvoy

  The best thing about this family was knowing that by surviving them, nothing else would be as hard. “Why don’t we talk—”

  “Or I hurt you,” Wyatt replied, reaching into his pocket and when he lifted his hands back up again he had on brass knuckles. “I like my option better.”

  “Fine, let’s talk,” Ethan said now, coming towards us and placing his hand on Wyatt’s shoulder and squeezing.

  “Ethan,” Wyatt sneered.

  “He wants to talk. Let him talk,” Ethan said, looking at me directly. “My sister may be fine with being kept in the dark, but I am not. After the bank incident, your identity became much easier to find, Prince Gabriel. I’m also assuming that’s why you, and most importantly, my sister was attacked this morning. Let me ask these questions once, so don’t make repeat myself; who is after you and what do you need from my sister?”

  “She’s the dragon-whisperer,” I smirked and glanced over to her. “Can your shower wait? I prefer telling this story once.”

  She nodded walking back over to me.

  “After you, Your Highness,” he said, stepping aside for me to walk. When he said Your Highness, it felt like an insult.

  “Thank you,” I said, outstretching my hand to Dona. She said we weren’t that close, but when it came down to me or her brothers, she chose… herself. She walked forward without any of us.

  TWENTY-ONE

  “The road may be rough, the journey may be tough and the experience may be bitter, but they are stepping stones to our future thrones.”

  ~ Bamigboye Olurotimi

  DONATELLA

  My feet hurt like hell.

  My hair felt disgusting.

  I just wanted to soak in hot bath for a while.

  But thanks to the pack of alpha males around me, of course I couldn’t do what I wanted to. And to make matters worse, when I stepped into the living room, not only was Helen there seated by the piano, but Nari, Sedric, and Darcy were all seated around the room. Darcy was lying on the couch, Sedric was on the floor in front of it, while Nari was in the corner on the phone.

  The icing on this morning’s shit cake was of course the news broadcast they were watching.

  “Thank you, Randel. Residents here are still reeling from yesterday’s attempted bank robbery at Wilson International Bank, which left one teenager paralyzed from the waist down. The police are saying the gunmen were disgruntled employees of Wilson Bank. Randel, our sources can now confirm two of those gunmen are confirmed dead and the third is in custody. We also received breaking news that one of the hostages was none other than twenty-nine-year-old, Prince Gabriel Honoré Déllacqua III, the Hereditary Prince of Monaco, next line for the Monacan throne. Eye witnesses inside say his quick thinking was the only reason why there wasn’t any more casualties. And he stood in between the gunmen and Donatella Callahan, only daughter of former governor Melody Callahan and business mogul Liam Callahan. This incident, on top of this morning’s accident on 93 Kingsway North, and last month’s church bombing has citizens wondering if Chicago is reverting back to its violent past. CDN News have been pressing the commissioner—”

  “A little turbulence in the air and everyone goes running to the commissioner,” I said, turning off the television and getting all of their attention.

  “That’s what commissioners are for,” Helen said, walking over to me and hugging me tightly. “Are you okay?”

  “You mean before or after you choke me to death?” I said, trying to push her off. She was like a damn octopus.

  “You’re hurt!” she said, lifting my hair.

  “I’m fine. If anything, Prince Gabriel is the wounded one,” I said, and just like that she turned to him.

  “We prefer him that way,” Wyatt said, moving to sit on the arm of the couch, next to Darcy who sat up, and Sedric who glared at him.

  “What happens if you kill a prince? Does that put you at war with the country?” Sedric asked looking up at Darcy, who shrugged, looking to Ethan.

  “Can we wait till after the playoffs before we start a war?”

  “Ignore them,” Helen said to Gabriel, handing him glass of bourbon. Her annoying good nature disrupted the ominous atmosphere everyone else seemed so keen to put on. However, Gabriel seemed more doubtful of her than the rest of us, taking the glass but not drinking it yet.

  “O’Phelan, can your people call the doctor?” Ivy said, walking in and standing beside Ethan near the door. “It seems like Wyatt’s off the clock again.”

  “Are you going to talk or not?” Wyatt asked, ignoring the rest of us, and I’d never seen him so tense. Ethan moved to sit in a chair by the fireplace, Ivy following and then sitting beside him.

  Gabriel’s gray eyes looked at every one of them, before turning to me. “I’m sort of jealous… Your family loves you quite dearly.”

  Lifting the glass, he threw back the brown liquid, before bringing the glass back down. He stared at it. “Unfortunately, my family isn’t the same. Like I told you, the nature of the monarchy is the willingness to kill your family if need be.”

  “Are you getting to the point?” Wyatt asked, cleaning his ear with his pinky. I was getting ready to beat the shit out of him.

  “You want answers; you’re going have to shut up and listen to my fucking story,” Gabriel stated back, moving to the bar and pouring another glass. “Where was I?”

  “Killing family,” Ivy said eagerly, sitting up on the chair and eating nuts from a bowl as though this was some sort of show.

  “Right,” Gabriel nodded, turning back to us. “My father, Davet-Jacques Florestan Déllacqua I, was one of the most aggressive, zealous, underhanded, and resourceful sovereigns Monaco had ever seen. Under him, the country grew rapidly. He tricked, stole, and took land right under France’s nose. When it came to ruling, he had no faults. It was his personal life which caused all the scandal. Like many other sovereigns, he enjoyed women—as many of them as he could have. He was not fond of the institution of marriage.

  “However, under the Monacan charter, the heir to the throne can never be a bastard. Already in his late forties, pressure mounted for him to marry; to either marry one of the women who had already given him a child or marry someone new and produce an heir. At that time, two of his mistresses were pregnant. One, the youngest daughters of the then prime minster, and the other, the daughter of the palace cook. He chose the daughter of a cook out of his hatred for the prime minster, and thus my mother Adésme Benoîte became the Princess Consort and Her Serene Highness of Monaco. Six months later, both I and my half-brother, Prince Xavier, were born. I was born a day after him, but was the official heir to the throne.”

  “Wait, why is he a prince if he’s bastard?” Sedric questioned, sitting up on the couch and scratching the side of neck.

  “Because,” Gabriel answered, sitting on the piano stool, “his mother and grandfather had my mother poisoned daily. The poison making her slowly lose her mind, their goal to make my father not simply divorce her, but have the pope declare the marriage was never valid to begin with.”

  “Thus, making you a bastard, too,” I whispered, and he looked up to me, nodding.

  “My father suspected her father was somehow behind it, however, Sylvia is very good at pretending to be innocent. And so, the fool believed there was no possible way someone as kindhearted as her could do such a thing. The doctors tried to find a cure for my mother. They changed everything; her clothes, jewels, bedding, everything was stripped and redone but she still got worse. They didn’t realize the poison wasn’t spread by a thing but a person…my very own father. They had poisoned the Jewel of Le Coeur Battant, which all sovereigns wear around their necks, and each time he went to see her or come around her he poisoned her. The only reason he didn’t get sick was because they also gave him the antidote. On my sixth birthday, my mother threw herself off the west palace balcony. A year later my father married Sylvia, making her the new Princess Consort and Her Serene Highness of Monaco… Thereby making her childr
en, my step-siblings, legitimate children and in line for the throne. So even though Xavier is older than me by a day, I remain the heir, as my mother was the first wife. For him to take the throne, I must either abdicate or die.”

  “You said you take the throne on your thirtieth birthday? Why thirtieth? What about your father?” I asked him, not understanding.

  “The poison…” He sighed, drinking. “Being poisoned and cured repeatedly eventually made him sick. When I left Monaco eleven years ago, he was unable to get out his bed and stand on his own. I’ve heard since then that he’s barely able to lift his hands. Though it could be much worse, Sylvia has kept the palace silent. Nothing gets in or out with her knowledge. She’s still loved and her father was recently reelected as prime minster once again. She plays the role of the dutiful, loving princess, kneeling by her sick husband’s side. There are songs of their great love,” he chuckled, unable to stop himself from laughing. “She’s made the whole country think her and my father were soul-mates, that he chose the wrong woman the first time. So, people also believe Xavier was meant to be the heir… After all, he is the elder one. All of Monaco is under their control currently.”

  “The only problem is you,” Wyatt finally spoke. “So, you are telling me you want my sister to marry you and move to a country where not even the people within it think you deserve to be their king?”

  “Monaco doesn’t use the kingship title—”

  “Not my point,” Wyatt snapped. At this rate, Ethan wasn’t going to have to say anything. Apparently, Wyatt was channeling his behavior.

  “My parents made a deal with you, correct?” I cut in, trying to remind my dear little brother how we’d gotten to this point. “When?”

  “I don’t know,” he replied and paused.

  “What?”

  “I left Monaco under direction of my father. He told me to go to school in England. At first, I thought he was doing it to get rid me. The heir of Monaco usually studies in Monaco, so I thought he was trying to position Xavier to take over. I refused. The next morning, I found myself on a plane landing in Heathrow. The only person beside me was Sebastian. He gave me a letter from my father, telling me it would be safer for me to not return. That he was doing what he needed to do to protect me. He told me to stay hidden and when the time came, he’d send one final letter to me. That letter come thirteen months ago, and it only had sentence… The door to sovereignty can only be opened with a single key, Donatella A. Callahan is your key. Under it was a number for your grandmother who then told me about the arrangement. We both agreed to wait until was closer to my thirtieth birthday before I approached.”

  “Why Dona?” Darcy asked confused.

  “Think of a family stronger than ours,” Ethan asked him.

  Darcy didn’t answer because he couldn’t.

  “Now think of family other than ours with a female the right age to marriage him.” Ethan asked, walking over to the bar, and Ivy slid into his chair. “Around the same time, you left Monaco, our family increased the amount of cocaine entering the country by over thirty percent, thanks to a set of laxer screening processes.”

  “So, they sold her for thirty?” Wyatt asked, and I was officially at the end of my rope.

  “No one sold me!” I snapped at him. “No one has that power. He gave me an option and I made my choice.” Looking to Ethan, I asked, “Has he provided you with enough clarity now? As much as I am thrilled about this little history lesson, it doesn’t change my mind. If anything, it only makes me more excited to meet Queen—”

  “She’s a princess—” Helen interrupted.

  “Not the point,” I said through clenched teeth, “They chose us…me because they knew that when it comes being ruthless, no one compares to us…to me. So, I’m going to my room to make sure my things are packed and to take a long, hot bath. You all are free stay here and keep listening.”

  GABRIEL

  When she left, we were all silent and I wished more than anything to escape with her.

  “I don’t care.” Wyatt rose to his feet. “I don’t care if you are the Prince of all of Europe and the goddamn moon, too. I don’t care about whatever deal was made with my parents. I don’t care about you or your sad prince life. I don’t like you and I trust you even less. Find someone else. Or, here’s a thought, grow some balls and fix your damn country on your goddamn own.”

  He looked over to Ethan as he moved to the door. “I’m going to talk to her before she thinks she’s Queen Katherine.”

  “Monaco doesn’t have a kingship—” Ivy said to him, and he replied by slamming the door.

  Leaving me with the rest of her family.

  “All of you leave,” Ethan declared, and they all got up just like that. Ivy stayed until he gave her a look. They exchanged nods before she got up, taking her cashews with her. True kingship, apparently.

  When the door closed, I was left face to face with him, the eldest and hopefully most rational of them all.

  He needed to know. “Whatever happens, I’m either leaving this house dead or with your sister.”

  “Kings…princes…monarchs, you all are very good at ordering the deaths of others,” he said as the doors opened again and Rocky and Coco dragged in two of my former guards. Two other men put down plastic wrap because before Rocky and Coco dropped the traitors to the ground. Both looked around them as they shook their heads, trying to beg for their lives but the tape over their months muffled all their efforts. “For some reason, when it comes to killing men with your own hands, you all stumble.” Ethan went on, “I do not know why. I do not care why. But it is good to know you are different than that…which is why I brought you gifts.”

  He reached behind his back and pulled out a gun, handing it to me.

  Without blinking, I took it and shot them both through the skull. “Thank you. You shouldn’t have.”

  “You seem eager to get this over with.”

  “I’ve came too far to let anything or anyone get in my way,” I said, returning the gun. “Even if the devil himself tries to stop me, I’d burn alive fighting against him.”

  “That’s why you are in this situation.” he frowned, putting the gun away. “Don’t fight the devil…be him and let others burn trying to fight you.”

  “Thanks for that advice. I’ll stitch it on my royal pillow.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  “Saying goodbye is a little like dying.”

  ~ Marjane Satrapi

  WYATT

  When I got to her room, both doors were wide open and more than a dozen maids were already packing her things in large brown boxes. I was stunned to see how much was already done. The longer I looked, the angrier I became.

  “ALL OF YOU, GET OUT!” I hollered making them jump, staring at me wide-eyed for a brief second before my words must have hit them and they left quickly. Waiting until the door was closed before looking over to her; she laid in the middle of her bed, legs crossed, staring up at the ceiling.

  “I hope you aren’t waiting for true love’s kiss. You’ll get bedsores,” I muttered, walking over to her.

  She smiled but didn’t look over at me. “I’m a princess. I’m sure there is some special magic for that. When do you think I get the power to talk to birds?”

  “You’re not a princess,” I replied, laying down next to her and staring up at the spinning ceiling fan that she had for no other reason than to watch it spin.

  “What am I then?” she asked softly.

  I didn’t have to think. “My sister.”

  “I’ll still be your sister even in—”

  “You’re a hypocrite.” I didn’t want to hear it. “For five years you told me to come home. To come back to Chicago. That Chicago was our home. That nowhere on earth will ever feel like home except Chicago. I’m finally back, and now you’re planning on moving not even to another state but to another damn country!” I bit my tongue, breathing in and trying to keep calm.

  “I’m a hypocrite,” she replied.

 
; “Don’t agree with me. Just don’t be a hypocrite,” I whispered back. “Don’t—”

  “Don’t do this to me, Wyatt,” she replied. When I finally looked from the fan over to her, her face was calm and emotionless, but her eyes… Tears slipped down, rolling down the side of her face and neck.

  “Dona—”

  With one hand, she took mine and with the other she brushed the side of her face. “I love you, Wyatt. I love this city. I’m happy you’re home. I’m happy you came back. But I can’t stay. Gabriel said part of me might be hoping you’ll stop me…and he’s right.”

  “Then let me stop you,” I begged, squeezing her hand tightly.

  Finally, she turned to look at me, her green eyes coated with tears she wouldn’t let fall. “The part of me hoping you’ll stop me is smaller than the part of me that will hate you for making me stay.”

  “In time, you’ll get over—”

  “I’m a dying wolf-dog here, Wyatt,” she frowned. “I’m dying. I didn’t even realize it. Until he said it.”

  “He’s just trying to get in your head.”

  “Maybe, but he’s not wrong,” she said, smiling. It had to be the saddest smile I’d ever seen. “Time will only make this worse. We aren’t kids anymore, Wyatt. Ethan’s married. He was going to be father. Soon, he will be. And one day you will be, too. You’ll get married and have a family, and what about me? If you make me stay, if you beg me to stay, you’re just forcing me to watch as I become less and less important to all of you.”

  “Dona, that’s impossible.” I turned over, feeling my eyes burn as I stared at her. Reaching over, I put my hand on her head. “You’re my sister. My twin. No one can—”

  “You don’t know that because you’ve never loved anyone that deeply,” she reached up, taking my hand off her face. “And I want you to love like that. I want you to love like Dad did.”

  “What about you? You don’t love him—”