by J. J. McAvoy
“If I can’t learn to love him… I won’t love anyone else,” she said seriously. “You know how I am. It takes a special type of person to be willing be with me. And an even more special person for me to want to be with them, with all of my heart. Gabriel… He’s the closet I’ve come.”
“Because he comes with a crown and country,” I muttered, bitterly.
“Exactly.” She nodded. “He comes with power and influence. I’ve sucked up all the power there is for me to take in Chicago. I’ve grown as much as I can here. So, it’s either I get relegated to the background behind you and Ethan, or I became center focus in another painting. Wyatt, this is how we survive. Deep down, we are nothing but rational animals. And I know that if I stay, I’ll butt heads with Ethan because I need to rule in my own sphere. This marriage is how we will all survive as a family.”
I hated how rational she was being.
I couldn’t work with her when she was rational. I couldn’t fight.
“You aren’t the type of person who’d want to be stuck in some damn palace, hosting charity balls and…whatever other monotonous thing princesses do. He’s going to parade you around like some damn trophy and you’ll go insane from boredom. Or insane from all the stuffy rules they try to make you follow.”
She looked away from me and back at her fan. “Your lack of faith in me hurts, little brother.”
“Good. Stay,” I said selfishly.
She snickered and then took a deep breath. “Since Ethan got married, I kept feeling this tightness in my chest and didn’t realize what it was. Ivy kept taking my place within the family. And I kept feeling so…erased. I woke up one morning thinking, ‘So this is what dying feels like… How painful.’”
I swallowed the lump in my throat. She wasn’t giving me any space here. Any room to change her mind. She just kept digging my grave.
“I kept wondering if this is how mom felt,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Mom wasn’t from Chicago. She didn’t know Dad. She uprooted herself and everything she was comfortable with and married for more power…just like this. Just like me. I never thought about it. But now that it’s me…I keep wondering if she felt this way. Sure, of what she needed to do, but a small part of her still uncertain, sad, and afraid. She must have, right? So that means, when they chose Gabriel, she must have been certain… That this moment of sadness, fear and uncertainty would be worth it in end. All I need to be is strong enough to take the same step. I trust Mom, Wyatt. I trust her, so I’m going to take this step…even if you hate me for it. But please don’t hate me.”
I’d lost.
Rolling back over I blinked the tears away from my eyes. But they came kept coming. Goddamn it!
“Thank you,” she whispered, rolling over and hugging me.
Looking away, I found the strength to say, “You better not let them change you or talk down to you. You’re just as— you’re better than them. The moment you say the word, we can tear the whole damn country apart. You’re a motherfucking Callahan. There was a crown on your head before them. The one they’ll give you will be visible to the naked eye and they can take that back, but you’ll never lose the one you were born with.”
She snickered and hugged me tighter. “First of all, in what twisted world would I ever let anyone, royalty or not, change me? Secondly little brother, I’m going to be happy, I promise. So, promise me you will, too…and you’ll look after Ethan.”
“I’m the younger one. He should look after me,” I muttered, and she punched my side. “Ah! Dona!”
“He does look after you!”
“Whose side are you on? Weren’t you just a week ago thinking of killing him!” I pushed her away, trying to get up, but she grabbed a pillow and smacked me on the side of my head.
“I have no idea what you are talking about? I’ve always been a kind hearted, good natured, team player. How could you ever excuse me of—”
Taking one of the other pillows I smacked back.
She stared at be wide eyed, shocked…appalled even and I grinned saying; “A kind hearted, good natured, person wouldn’t hit me back.”
Her green eyes narrowed back on me as she said; “I also said team player and right now you aren’t on my team!”
She hit me so hard the pillow broke open, and of course Dona’s pillows would be made of goose feathers, and of course they would fly everywhere. She sat up on to her knees to look at me for quick second before pointing and laughing like a damn six-year-old. Taking another pillow, I smacked her on the side of her face so hard, the pillow burst open and her hair whipped around. Smiling, I pointed back at her, “Should I laugh maniacally or just grin sheepishly?”
“Off with your head!” she screamed, grabbing a pillow and rushing after me.
ETHAN
This wasn’t supposed to be my position.
My father was supposed to have the honor of some great terrifying speech for whoever came to marry Dona. I didn’t even have time to get my uncles to do it. So unfortunately, it fell on my shoulders. We stood in living room, right by the unlit fireplace, under the family portrait.
“What are you having?” I asked him as I moved to the bar in the corner.
“It’s a little early—”
“You’re marrying my only sister, without warning. Without asking, after being disrespectful and willfully irritating. Yet here I am, offering you a drink. Are you refusing that drink?” I asked him as I poured myself a brandy.
“Brandy is good,” he replied, holding out his hand. I handed him a glass before moving to sit in the chair as he took the other one.
Sitting in silence, I drank staring up at the portrait, realizing it was going to change. Not because of him… But because of me. It was only my father, my mother, and their children in that image. Soon, it would need to change to me, Ivy, and our children. And on and on it would go. I never thought about it before. It never occurred to me that I’d needed to change until now, that the structure of my family would change. Dona sat here often… I wondered if that was what she was seeing.
I wasn’t sure how long we sat quietly. I didn’t mind the silence, but apparently, he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Despite everything else, I will take care of her,” he said sternly, breaking my concentration. I looked over to him, somewhat surprised by his statement.
“Of course, you will,” I replied and he seemed surprised by mine. “You don’t have a choice. Your life, your country, anything else you care about depends on how well you treat her. I would have thought you weighed all the risks before making it known that you wanted to marry the daughter and sister of the most power mafia in the history of the world.”
“Hubris seems to be a family trait,” he snickered, lifting his glass to me before drinking.
“One your family must also share.” I glanced up at the painting. “Of all my family members, I’m least eloquent. I don’t have a speech or wisdom to share with you… And even if I did, I’d rather not speak with you at all. The sight of you upsets me. You marrying my sister upsets me and that has nothing to do with who you are… But who my sister is to me.”
I paused, drinking and he didn’t say word, thankfully.
“Do you have sister?” I asked him.
“Half-sister but apparently she doesn’t count.” He grinned. I didn’t find anything funny in the least.
“Then you don’t understand what we are feeling,” I spoke for Wyatt, too because I knew he’d be broken even more so by this.
He shook his head. “In all honestly, no. I understand she won’t be in the city. But it’s not as if she’s disappearing for all time. It’s not like she won’t be able to call or video chat—”
“She has always been here,” I cut him off before anymore stupidity came from him and drove me to shatter my glass over his head. “In the middle of Wyatt and I…is Donatella. She has always been our referee, our judge, our support, in everything big or small. To me she has been my biggest threat
but also my greatest ally. Because she has always been strong I’ve had to be strong. She pushes us even when we do not want to be pushed…or at least she did. Now she’s going to be on the other side of the world dealing with whatever mess I’m sure you’re needing help to fix. She isn’t going to be there for us. But you. For the first time, we’ll be on the sidelines, and the sidelines are not a fun place to be when you’ve always been center stage.”
That’s why she needs to go. He was doing to me what Ivy had done to her. I didn’t understand it then but now did.
Damn it.
“I don’t want to talk for much longer. Just know, whatever happens in my life, in Wyatt’s life, we will always stop whatever we are doing to be at her side if she calls. Hurt her in any shape, in any form or way… And even I do not know how far I will go and how depraved I will be when I get my hands on you. I tried. I tried to think about what I would do to the man who hurt my baby sister and all I see is red. Not anger red. Not blood red. But fire red. As if I know, somewhere in the back of my mind, whatever I would do, would be so horrific, atrocious, and unspeakable it would damn me to hell for eternity. All I can see, when I think of Donatella being hurt by you in any way, are those red flames.” Finishing my drink, I stood up and he stayed sitting. “That’s all I wanted tell you.”
Turning from him and heading towards the door when he had the balls to say, “We haven’t begun negotiations.”
“Excuse me?” I turned back to him.
He rose from his chair confidently, not at all what I was expecting from him and yet I was not surprised by it. He was foolishly confident even when he didn’t have the upper-hand. It must have been a mental condition princes were born with.
“You were the one who said that I’m marrying the daughter and sister of the most powerful mafia in history of the world, did you not?” he smirked, finishing off his drink. I didn’t reply even as he stepped in front me. “Your sister is marrying the crown prince of a rising economic giant; a nation of thirty-seven million, bordering four other nations and the Mediterranean Sea. You’ve done an excellent job of being the dutiful, protective brother, now I’d like to hear from the Don of that almighty mafia.”
“They’re one and the same. So, I’d suggest you choose your next words carefully,” I said, looking him in the eye. “I don’t negotiate, I simply take.”
“What confidence,” he replied, the amusement in his face gone, “considering that’s how I took your sister.”
I felt my hand twitch. I could see it almost in slow motion, how easily it would be to pull out my knife and slit his neck right open. Reason won over instinct, and I replied with words, not blood, saying, “Big words for a prince who only an hour ago was pleading for his life.”
“You’re mistaken,” he glared at me. “I don’t plead for my life. My life is guaranteed. I’ll explain, seeing as you’ve never been in this position before.”
“What that position is that?”
“Weakness.”
I snickered at that. “You’re right, I don’t know that position, nor will I ever.”
“Donatella.” He lifted his right hand out and then his left as if it were a scale. “Your family’s image.”
A year. That’s how long Donatella was going to put up with this bastard before putting a bullet threw his skull while he slept.
“As the head of the Callahan family, our marriage makes you even look stronger. For the first time in your history, people won’t whisper about how powerful you are, or what your connections might be. They will know your family extends into royalty. By connection to me you all now have permanence in history. They will talk of you all as they talk of the Medici family.”
“Is there a point or do you simply wish to see how long I can maintain my composure?” I asked.
“With such a legacy, don’t you think I should get something in return?”
“My sister isn’t enough?” Now he was insulting us.
“If I go down, your sister goes down too,” he frowned. “And with her, so do the years of persevered, untouchable influence and power your family has created. With great families, image is everything, isn’t? How does the image of my death or defeat for the throne look to you?”
“I thought your life was guaranteed?”
“You all are that guarantee.” He grinned.
Weakness… Donatella on one had. Our family’s image on the other. I now understood what he meant. However, he didn’t understand who I was.
“You do realize she isn’t married to you yet. I’ve become very well-equipped in cleaning up messes. Your death will be a hassle, but can be cleaned up as well.” I laughed because it was funny and he just grinned.
“You do realize now that she’s seen me and what I can offer, should she lose that, she’ll never get another chance to have what she wants. At least not without coming for your throne again. Her ambition is dangerous like that. So, you’re free to kill me now, knowing that it will most likely hurt your precious sister in the future.”
A year? I gave him a year? Dona is going to kill this motherfucker within six months if not less.
“What I want is simple, and nothing you wouldn’t want to do anyway,” he spoke again, his shoulder relaxed, as were his eyes. “I need men. I need them to be from Monaco. What happened today can never happen again, anywhere, for any reason. And I do not mean men loyal to you or men who can trade their loyalty to the highest bidder. Their first and only priority should always be your sister and I.”
For a brief moment I wondered what type of man I would be if I’d been born into his life, and I wasn’t sure if I found it reassuring or disturbing that I’d be somewhat like him. He was thinking and becoming the devil he needed to be… No, he already was that dark-hearted, he just needed the army to do follow through. I couldn’t fault him for that. Not when I’d had a ready-made one when I’d come into power.
I briefly thanked God that my father hadn’t been as much of a fool as his had but then again, I should also have thanked my mother for not being as weak as his.
The strength of their marriage was what saved me from the chaotic irrational soap-opera that was his life.
“You’ll have your men,” I replied, turning as I realized I did have a speech for him. “Gabriel, men like you and I aren’t supposed to be just men. We’re leaders. We’re rulers in two different spheres but still rulers, nonetheless. The women we marry will feel pain and will get hurt, yes. But the pain I’m speaking of, the harms I am warning against, aren’t small. It is not forgetting an anniversary or even fighting with one another. The harms I am warning you against…are the types kings and princes seem so prone to… My sister can and will handle anything you throw at her, but if you, Gabriel, make her your wife and then decide you want a mistress, too, I’ll kill you.
“If you allow her be embarrassed or disgraced, I will kill you. She ends up gravely injured because of fire directed at you, I will kill you. Your life is not guaranteed. My sister is not your insurance. Do not test me and this vast benevolence that I am bestowing on you. Because if I even hear whispers of her being treated like your mother was… You’ll see those flames I was talking about earlier. Now excuse me, Your Highness, I have an international drug empire to run.”
I said nothing more and didn’t wait for him to say anything either, not that he should have had anything to say. Ignoring and walking past the men taking out her boxes, I headed towards my study, hoping for peace to outrun the reality around me. But my mind wouldn’t stop.
I understood everything.
Why she was going to leave.
Why she wanted to leave.
Why my parents chose him.
Even why he needed her.
And yet, despite it all… I couldn’t imagine coming home and not seeing her. I couldn’t imagine Chicago without Dona…without my baby sister.
I didn’t want to think about either but it was going to happen.
“You alright?” Ivy asked when I entered.
/> Leaning against the door, I shook my head. “Give me one good reason to stop him from taking her.”
“If you couldn’t think of one, I doubt I can.”
Right. That was the problem. Because I knew and understood everything, I knew I didn’t have a reason to force Dona to stay.
“So, I have to accept this?” Accepting something I didn’t want was an odd feeling…
“It’s okay to say it hurts to lose her,” she said, hugging me.
And I looked down at her as she held on to me. Realizing only then that the odd feeling was…pain. Not physical, but emotional.
I hugged her back. I nodded slowly, admitting it to only her, “It hurts.”
Saying goodbye to my sister hurts.
TWENTY-THREE
“I, with a deeper instinct,
choose a man who compels my strength,
who makes enormous demands on me,
who does not doubt my courage or my toughness,
who does not believe me naïve or innocent,
who has the courage to treat me like a woman.”
~ Anaïs Nin
DONATELLA
Lifting the slim crystal vial on my dresser and dabbing the perfume behind my ear and my wrist, I rubbed them together before putting the vial back. I looked back at my own reflection, fixing the curl of my hair. If beauty was a woman’s armor, I had more than enough to slay a dragon. That’s what I was doing. Slipping into my beige heels before rising from the bench in front of my vanity, touching the bare skin over my breast, I smirked. I wasn’t sure why my heart was beating as fast as it was, however I could feel the humming in my chest, making my blood warm…all of me warm. Excitement. It was the feeling I got when I when I was excited and yet this shouldn’t have excited me as much as it was.
Stepping back and walking towards the door, the gray satin robe-style dress I was wearing with slits up both thighs and a plunging neckline flowed with each step I took. I glanced over my shoulder at the room of boxes still waiting to be taken away before closing the door behind me. The walk from my room to Gabriel’s wasn’t far, and I didn’t even bother knocking, instead, stepping inside. A voice came from the bathroom.
