THE CALLAHANS (A Mafia Romance): The Complete 5 Books Series

by Glenna Sinclair

  And this, this betrothal, didn’t help.

  “You look beautiful,” Momma said.

  I half nodded. I was wearing a simple green dress that dipped low between my full breasts and fell into a skirt that touched the tops of my feet. Momma pulled my hair back into a thick ponytail, allowing just one or two strands to curl around my face. I rarely wore makeup, but I’d done a little mascara and some lip gloss for the occasion, not sure if it was for the benefit of my betrothed or myself. Probably just me.

  Momma kissed my temple again, tears in her eyes.

  “This is going to be okay.”

  “It is.”

  I studied her face, aware that she was as frightened by this whole thing as I was. And that gave me strength, the strength to make this okay for her.

  ***

  Seraphina didn’t speak much on the drive across town. Her hands gripped the steering wheel, her massive engagement ring tap-tapping in time to music that was only in her head. She glanced at me once or twice, but whatever might have spilled from her lips on other occasions was dammed up by something I wasn’t aware of, or didn’t understand.

  The house she turned into was behind a gate that protected the entire neighborhood. It was a large, brick house with all the amenities of an upper-class home. It was clear the Callahans were doing well in their connections to the Irish mob, not to mention their positions at MCorp.

  Seraphina leaned toward me to look up at the house, too.

  “Nice.”

  “Not as nice as Daddy’s house.”

  “No. But give him time.”

  She got out of the car and came around, holding out her hand to me. My heart was pounding. The Callahans had been built into such monsters in my head that I almost expected a two-headed cyclops to open the door when she knocked. Instead, it was an attractive blond woman who opened the door. She was older than me, closer to Seraphina’s age, and she had a baby—about six months old—on her hip.

  “Hi,” she said with a big smile. “I’m Stacy, and this is David.”

  Seraphina surprised me by immediately reaching for the baby’s little fingers, leaning in, and making those cooing sounds which only moms knew how to make. I found myself studying the woman’s face, the paleness of her features. She might have looked sickly if not for the color on her cheeks. And the light dancing in her eyes.

  She didn’t seem all that threatening.

  “Please, come in,” she said, gesturing to the entryway that opened up behind her.

  Seraphina gestured for me to go first. I thought my heart might stutter to a stop as I stepped onto the marble floor, my modest heels making a tiny sound. We could hear voices coming from deeper in the house, but—for the moment—we were alone. Seraphina touched my arm, making a supportive gesture with the rising of her chin. I straightened a little, trying to remember that I was a Rossi. I was strong.

  “The guys are just through here,” Stacy said. “They’re having drinks on the back deck before dinner.”

  “Sounds nice,” Seraphina said.

  I wasn’t used to my loud, almost obnoxious, sister being so polite. I glanced at her as Stacy led the way through a lovely living room with comfortable furnishings. I found myself drawn to the warmth of this room, wondering what it must be like to hang out here after a long day of…whatever.

  Laughter, deep and very masculine, came toward us from the French doors at the back of the room. Stacy glanced back at us, a soft smile on her lips. I was suddenly hit with a bit of panic, my chest tightening and my breath refusing to leave my lungs. I paused in my steps, but Seraphina didn’t notice. She continued out the door with Stacy, asking her something about the color of paint on the walls of all things.

  “They won’t bite,” a warm voice behind me said.

  “Are you sure?”

  There was amusement in his voice when he said, “They haven’t actually taken a bite out of anyone since they were in junior high.”

  My heart pounding, I turned and found myself face to face with the monster himself, Brian Callahan.

  I stumbled a little, and he caught me, his hand on my upper arm. Somehow my hand came to rest on his chest, just below his heart. He was thin, this man who’d so tortured my father and brothers all these years. Thin and tall and almost handsome. And solid. He was very solid.

  “You’re not a monster.”

  He laughed, and that’s how I came to realize I’d said it out loud. I hadn’t meant to.

  “No, I’m not a monster. Just a man.”

  “I’m sorry. That was rude.”

  “It’s fine.” He stepped back slightly and studied me for a moment. “I met you once. When you were about this tall,” he said, holding his hand out to his side about hip level. “You were just as beautiful then.”

  I blushed as I inclined my head. “Thank you.”

  “You probably don’t remember. It was a very brief meeting.”

  “I don’t, to be honest.”

  His eyes searched mine for a long moment. “I’m not supposed to be here. I just stopped by to pick up some papers.” But he didn’t move away, and he didn’t say anything else.

  “I should…” I gestured with my thumb over my shoulder.

  He nodded. But then he stepped into me, setting his hand lightly on my shoulder.

  “Ian’s a good man,” he said softly. “He’s been through hell, but he’s come out of it so much better than he might have if not for my Abigail. He just needs someone to smooth the rough edges, you know?”

  I had no idea what he was talking about, but I nodded.

  He studied my eyes a second longer, then kissed my forehead lightly, as though we’d known each other all our lives and he had the right to touch me. I let him, too stunned by the sudden act of affection to respond any other way. Then he was gone, disappearing through a door at the back of the room I hadn’t noticed until that second.

  “Mia!”

  Seraphina was in the doorway, glaring at me. “Get your ass out here!”

  That was the Seraphina I knew.

  Somehow, the encounter with Brian Callahan made it easier to step out onto that back deck. If I’d been expecting ogres or something, I was again surprised by what I saw.

  They were all tall, gorgeous men. Not one of them was unattractive. The man standing beside Stacy, greeting me with a hand held out, was dark and broad shouldered, intense green eyes that seemed to see everything about me. Another, beside him, had red hair like Brian’s and blue eyes that also seemed to take in the world with great curiosity.

  “This is my husband, Killian Callahan,” Stacy said, as the first man took my hand. He smiled widely, a smile that spoke of great pleasures and a little curiosity.

  “Nice to meet you,” I mumbled as he let my hand go. It was quickly replaced by his brother’s.

  “Sean Callahan,” the redhead told me. “And this is Delaney Doherty.”

  My eyebrows rose a little. I knew that name. She was CEO of Heavenly Match, a dating website my girlfriends and I frequented when we were first out of high school.

  “It’s really nice to meet you.”

  Delaney smiled. “You too, Mia.”

  A dark man came around Delaney, playfully pushing her to the side so that he could stand in front of me.

  “I’m Kyle,” he said. “I can’t tell you what a pleasure it is to meet you.”

  “You’re Kyle?” Seraphina suddenly interrupted.

  “I am.”

  Once again quite uncharacteristic for my sister, she threw her arms around his shoulders and gave him a hug that was all at once intimate and emotional. We sort of stood back and watched, confused for a moment. Even Kyle seemed overwhelmed, despite the fact that his arms came around Seraphina and he held her almost as tight as she held him.

  “Thank you,” Seraphina said through tears when she pulled back. “You saved our father and my husband that night. Without you my children might be partial orphans today.”

  It was as if cold water had just been
poured over all of us. I hadn’t known. No one would tell me the details of what had happened that night, assuming I was too young to understand as they’d always done. Never mind that I was twenty-two and plenty old enough to comprehend the darkness that was within the life my father chose to live.

  “Your husband…?”

  “Aldo. He was by the warehouse doors when you pulled him back and rushed out to get Daddy out of the line of fire.”

  Kyle and Killian exchanged a glance. “I remember,” Kyle said, focusing on my sister again.

  “Aldo said if not for you, Daddy probably would have lain out there and died. So, we owe you everything.”

  Kyle grew uncomfortable, shifting a little between his feet. “I was just doing what needed to be done.”

  “He also said that it was your idea to slip everyone out the back while the gunmen were distracted.”

  “We all worked on that solution.”

  “Well, it doesn’t matter. We know we owe you, and we Rossis pay our debts.”

  Kyle inclined his head to accept her words as humbly as he could. I watched, quite impressed. Not only were these people human beings, not monsters, but they were respectful, kind, and polite. In some ways, they were better than the men who worked for my father.

  “Your wife isn’t here?” Seraphina asked Kyle. “I was hoping to meet her.”

  “She flew to Oregon to visit her father. She won’t be back for a few days.”

  “Well then, I guess it’s you and me.” Seraphina slid her arm through the crook of Kyle’s arm and led him toward the table, which was beautifully set further down the deck. Kyle glanced back at me and his brothers, an almost panicked look on his face.

  “She won’t bite,” I called, causing Seraphina to shoot me a dirty look, but the others to laugh.

  “You’ll fit in well around here,” Stacy said, touching my arm lightly.

  For a moment, I almost felt like she was right. And then I saw him.

  He’d been standing against the far wall the whole time, watching the introductions over the rim of his glass, his light eyes fixed on mine. He was so handsome that it took my breath for a second. He looked like Brad Pitt if Brad Pitt was thirty years younger, a foot taller, and had much broader shoulders. There was something rugged about his jaw, something almost delicate about his brow. He was a set of contradictions that came together to create an extremely masculine, intensely handsome man.

  I couldn’t read his expression. I’d always prided myself on being able to read people in all kinds of situations, but I couldn’t read him. I couldn’t tell if he thought I was attractive, or if he was ready to run for the hills. There was something so distant about him that I felt like any attempt to get to know him would be a complete waste of time.

  But I wanted to. I couldn’t explain why, but I really wanted to get to know him.

  Chapter 3

  Ian

  This wasn’t the way it should be.

  When her sister first walked outside, I thought, well, she wasn’t bad looking. Tall. Dark. Not really my type, but not bad looking. But then Stacy introduced her as Seraphina Catalina, and I was a little disappointed. This one…I could have made it work. A year or two of marriage…we could do that. Then a quiet divorce and I could walk away without a second thought. But then the other one came walking through the doors…and I knew I was in trouble.

  She looked as unhappy as I was to be there and, for some reason, that offended the hell out of me. What did she have to lose in marrying me? I was a good catch. Women all over Boston would be crying in their drinks next week when the announcement came out. Yet, she looked like she was being marched in front of the firing squad. She had no idea what she was getting into.

  And then the whole scene with Kyle and she seemed to soften a little. There was even a slight smile on those full lips. But then our eyes met and that smile all but disappeared.

  What was she thinking?

  She was beautiful. Not my type. I preferred my women to be blond, slender, lithe. She had curves on curves, her breasts threatening to pop through the front of her dress. But there was something about the slight blush on her cheeks, the warmth of her coloring, the green of her eyes. I couldn’t pull my eyes away.

  “Ian!”

  Stacy gestured with the arm that wasn’t filled with the baby, calling me over. Everyone turned then, staring at me as if they’d just remembered why we were all here. I felt as if I was in high school again, that if I didn’t move quickly enough, one of them would come over and drag me to stand in front of her.

  I took a deep breath and headed over, leaving my glass at the table as I passed it.

  “Hello,” I said politely as I came to a stop in front of her.

  She studied me quite openly, not even trying to hide the curiosity that shone in those gorgeous green eyes.

  “Mia,” she said, holding out long, thin fingers.

  I took her hand, trying to ignore the little shock of excitement that rushed through me.

  Everyone was watching us. I felt like I was in some sort of bizarre production, the bachelor on one of those stupid reality shows. I never should have agreed to this group meeting. I should have insisted on meeting her one-on-one, in a restaurant or at a bar where we could both drink liquid courage, at least something harder than the chardonnay that Stacy was serving. But it was too late for regrets.

  “Dinner should be about ready,” Stacy suddenly announced. “Everyone have a seat while I go check.”

  She handed the baby to Killian and disappeared through the door.

  “Should I go help?” Mia asked.

  “No. She much prefers to do it herself,” Delaney said, moving up behind me. “Trust me. I’ve been there.”

  Mia nodded, glancing at me as she was propelled toward the table by everyone else’s movement. Kyle and Seraphina were already there, whispering close to each other, making me wonder what it was they had to say to each other. Kyle caught my eye and smiled, but it was one of those smiles that made me weary.

  I poured myself another glass of wine and settled in the chair I always took when I was at Killian’s, the seat beside him, across from Sean. But Sean came up behind me and tipped the chair a little, gesturing to Mia, who’d settled in a seat beside Seraphina and Kyle.

  Grumbling something I probably shouldn’t have said, I got up and moved around to the other side of the table. Mia looked up when I settled beside her…that little bit of a blush back.

  “Did you want some wine?” I asked as politely as I could.

  “Thank you,” she said softly.

  I got up again, feeling again like I was back in high school. I poured her a glass from the small bar at the back of the deck, carrying it and the bottle back to the table because I knew I would want more. I wasn’t sure about her.

  We sat there beside each other—everyone watching us with baited breath—with nothing to say to one another. The tension was so thick that I could feel it weighing down on my shoulders like a physical weight. I wanted to get up and go, hide out at my place, or maybe even drive up to Manhattan and demand to know why Carrie hadn’t called in five days. I couldn’t stop thinking about her, but I couldn’t make myself make that phone call, either. How was I supposed to tell the woman I’d been seeing for six months that I was sort of, kind of, engaged to another woman?

  Stacy saved us by coming out with a rolling cart that was laden with all kinds of delights. She’d made rack of lamb and buttery potatoes and an amazing pasta salad that was a recipe Mom taught her. We dug in, everyone talking at once about the delicious aroma that filled the table. I was so caught up in the growling of my own belly that I didn’t notice how generously Mia filled her plate. I watched her close her eyes as she took her first bite of the pasta and saw the appreciation bring a smile to her face.

  I couldn’t dislike anyone who appreciated my Mom’s recipes.

  “The secret is the grapes,” I told her.

  She nodded. “And the little bits of green apple.”


  She had an amazing palate. Impressive.

  The conversation turned from food to a couple of new movies hitting the theaters soon to a music group that was coming to town in the next week or two. Seraphina was quite vociferous, joining the conversation as if she’d been one of us since the beginning, but Mia was silent, preferring to enjoy her food and wine as if she was a critic visiting a restaurant looking for a third Michelin star.

  She was fascinating.

  The weather began to turn a little as we grew close to the end of the meal. Killian welcomed everyone into the living room, but Mia stayed back to help Stacy gather the dishes on her little cart. I watched from the doorway and saw how animated her face got as they talked about something that got washed away on the wind.

  “She’s a firecracker,” Stacy said as she passed me.

  I’d described Stacy the same way once. She touched my arm, a knowing look in her eye. I pretended I didn’t know what it was she was trying to say.

  I stepped out onto the deck.

  “You should come in. It’s going to rain soon.”

  Mia was at the railing, the wind beating her skirt around her legs. She turned her head up to the sky and took a deep breath.

  “Not for a little while yet.”

  “You can tell the weather with just a glance?”

  “No. But I can’t smell rain yet. You can usually smell it a few moments before it comes.”

  I moved up beside her, leaving a foot or so of distance between us, as I leaned my back to the railing. Her eyes were closed, her lips just slightly parted.

  “How old are you?”

  She peeked at me. “Why? Do you think my father’s doing this because I’m an old maid or something?”

  It’d crossed my mind. But that wasn’t why I’d asked.

  “I’m twenty-two. I graduated Boston College last year, and I’ve been in Chicago that last four months.”

  “What’s in Chicago?”

  “My boyfriend.”

  Was it odd that I felt a twinge of jealousy when she said that?

  She was peeking at me again. “Does that change your opinion of me? Knowing I have a boyfriend?”