by J. J. McAvoy
“We’re about to eat. Don’t say hot or cute. I’ll puke,” she said, flipping to the picture of another handsome man with brown eyes.
“This is Declan Callahan. He’s not Sedric and Evelyn’s son, but their nephew. However, they raised him after both his parents were gunned down. He’s married too.” She scrolled to this beautiful dark-skinned woman. “Coraline, they also have one adopted daughter, Helen. She is currently the head of technology at WaveTree and handles all cyber security for the family. Think Tony Stark, without Ironman…and, well, black and female.”
“So ingenious, cocky, and—”
“An infuriation to her co-workers but simultaneously also hard not to love.” She nodded, flipping to the next picture. “Her younger brother is Darcy, the starting point guard with the Chicago Bulls. He and my brother are close, obviously because of their love of sports, but also because they are rivals. Apparently, there can only one number one athlete in the family and city.”
“People must love them.” I grinned, seeing a picture of them running through the city. They were both handsome with their number nine jerseys.
“Exactly,” she said.
I glanced up.
“Darcy and Sedric, by merely playing a sport, bring good press. People hear a negative story about us and then see them and think, ‘but they’re such good boys, they must come from good families,’ on top of the fact that they are both bi-racial, with their parents still happily married, people feel good. In their minds, racism is dead, equality is here, and anyone can fulfill their dream.”
“I was starting to feel good till you started shitting all over my rainbow.” I frowned. Jeez, it was like she had this unbelievable ability to ram reality down your throat.
“You don’t need to see this family through rose colored glasses. You need to see it for what it is,” she replied, and I leaned back into my seat.
“I hardly doubt they both play sports because they care about the family image.”
“And you’d be wrong. When both of them were young they went to Ethan after hearing he’d take over as the head of the family and let him know they’d always be loyal to him. You see, people are always looking for cracks in the family to get in through. My father’s first wife betrayed the family, and…she’s gone.”
“Did he—”
“Don’t ask, don’t tell,” she shot back. “Anyone could set them up. Make it seem like they are also betraying the family. Ethan, back then, told them simply, make me look good and have fun doing it. Play a sport. An arena, which can also have fans, be treated like superstars, and never be linked to anything they aren’t meant to be in. I inherited my father’s hotels. I don’t need people to fan over me, only respect. Helen is the same. We are all in our own spheres, so we don’t ever step on each other’s toes. It’s not a happy accident but by design…Ethan’s design.”
“All of you are doing careers he told you to do?”
She nodded as if that wasn’t creepy. “He grew up with us. Our parents were busy. He watched over us all, and as we got older, as we got more worried about what our lives were going to be like when were adults, he…he knew each of us better than we knew ourselves. He knew Helen was a computer genius and told her to keep at it. He knew the boys liked attention, competition, and sports. I’m bossy. I like being bossy. Why not be a boss? You think it’s weird and yet we’re probably the only family in America who has monthly dinners and never misses a birthday or holiday with extended family.”
When she said it like that it didn’t seem as creepy.
“Finally,” she said and flipped to a photo of a gorgeous couple, the man with green eyes and brown hair, the woman with long black hair and big brown eyes. “Ethan’s parents, Liam and Melody Callahan, the previous king and queen…both dead.”
I froze. Just staring at them, their photos, from what looked to be a magazine spread, I wasn’t sure if it was fake or not, but they looked at each as if they were the only two people on the planet.
“Melody…total badass,” she whispered, and I looked up to see her staring at the photo on her tablet too. “If there was a glass ceiling within fifty feet of her it shattered automatically. She and Liam were arranged to be married because her father was the head of the Italian mafia…until she took over.”
“Wait…what?” I whispered and then remembered the two Italian women who’d protected me when back at the prison.
“It’s a long story. If I started, I’d need at least four novels to finish,” she replied, tapping the photo. “To summarize, when they got married, they merged the Irish and Italian mafia, in doing so crushing everyone else in their path. She later moved to public life, becoming governor, and was so loved, people hoped she’d run for president. But she said Chicago was her home and if she wanted to live in a giant white house she’d paint her house white. She died due to a sudden cardiac attack from a car accident…Liam, her husband, was crushed. It was the darkest time in our family. I can still remember him the week after. You could hear his screams throughout the house, and then it got quiet. He’d drink himself to sleep…my father and Uncle Declan kept suicide watch. After her funeral he barely spoke to anyone and visited her grave every day until he died a week after the twins turned eighteen. Ethan was nineteen.”
I reached for my glass of water, not sure what to say. My throat hurt badly, even more so when I looked at the couple.
“They had three children. Wyatt Sedric Callahan, who’s currently a trauma surgeon at Boston Medical.”
I wanted to say beauty ran in the family but then again, seeing as how I’d been transformed, I couldn’t really believe it was genetics. Either way, Wyatt was handsome. Tall, with deep brown eyes, brown bedhead hair, and a five o’clock shadow. He was rugged in a way and relaxed. So far, he was the only person I’d seen who didn’t wear suits. If he wasn’t in scrubs, he’d be wearing jeans and a sweater.
“His twin sister is Donatella Aviela Callahan.”
Ugh… she was pretty much her mother but with green eyes. In other words, even more stunning.
“Let me guess, she’s like a supermodel?” I muttered.
“No. Donatella is a novelist,” she replied, completely catching me off guard.
“An author? Her?”
“No one knows. She writes under a pen name. Everyone thinks she’s just the family princess, but her work is pretty famous.” She tapped again, getting to the last photo. “Last but not least, your future husband, Ethan Antonio Giovanni Callahan, the head of the Irish and Italian mafia, and the Callahan family.”
Fuck me.
Ugh, not like that…well…no, I just meant. Holy shit. I glanced back up at her.
“Yea, that’s why I saved him for last.” She winked, turning off the tablet and handing it back to the guard, who once again I forgot was there. “Tell them they can bring the food now.”
What are you doing, Ivy?
I was getting sucked in and distracted…
It didn’t matter what he looked like or what any of them did.
“It doesn’t matter,” I whispered. “I’m not putting myself through all of this for him…for any of you. I’m here for one reason only…my father…for revenge.”
“Then you’re in the right place. We specialize in vengeance. But…” she said as the server put the plates in front of us.
“But?” I repeated when he walked away.
“Can you handle it?”
“What?”
“Ivy.” She leaned in. “Joining hands with Ethan doesn’t mean he’ll go in with a bat and hurt whoever hurt you…he’s a student of Machiavelli. He’ll tear them down slowly and then wipe them from the face of the earth.”
I leaned in as well. “I know my unsophisticated demeanor often makes people look down on me. I also know people think I am weak, but Nari, I’ve read The Prince too. Machiavelli once said ‘I love my city more than my soul.’ And as such, no sacrifice is too small. Your grandmother asked me to give up my name. I said okay. You told me to cut my teeth and rip
the hair from my body. I said okay. Marriage for the Irish is forever. Which means, a man I do not know will own every part of me, indefinitely, and still I said okay. I don’t care how he does it…as long as he does it.”
NARI
“Well, then I guess nothing else can be said,” I replied, lifting the water to my lips, and she reached for her fork. I watched him, through the frosted glass of the waterfall, rise to his feet, button up his suit jacket, and walk toward the exit.
The king had heard what he’d needed to hear…
SEVEN
“Tonight the world is yours, as am I.”
~ Melissa de la Cruz
ETHAN
“Knock knock.”
I glanced toward her and she smiled, dressed in a long, tight black dress, the back of which was open, making it a little too revealing for my liking.
“Are you going to a funeral or auditioning for queen of the damned?” I asked, reaching for my bowtie.
“You’re being mean,” she stated, walking further into my closet and taking the bowtie from my hands. “And here I came to tie your tie for the last time.”
“If anyone heard you they’d think you had a big brother complex.” I smirked at her, and she rolled her eyes, lifting my collar up more in order to put the tie around. “Dona, you know—”
“Yea, I do.” She glanced up at me and smiled back. “You won’t forget about me.”
“Not that. I’m going to totally forget about you. Just like you’ve totally forgotten you are terrible at tying bowties.”
She paused and like always opened her mouth to curse me, but couldn’t bring herself to, closing her mouth and biting her lip. She tied the bowtie as if she were tying shoelaces.
“There you go, asshole!” She snapped, spinning on her heels and walking to the door.
“Dona.”
“What?” she hollered.
“If I ever forget about you, kill me.”
She crossed her arms. “Swear it.”
“I swear,” I said without hesitation, and she nodded, walking out. She didn’t need more than that. Undoing the mess she did and retying the damn bowtie, I stepped out of my closet to see Toby waiting with my suit jacket.
Walking to him, I slid my left arm then my right into it, standing in front of the mirror to adjust my cufflinks.
“Where is it?” I asked, and he lifted the velvet box for me to see.
Taking it from his hands and opening the box, I stared at the teardrop-shaped ring set in rose gold. I knew nothing about rings, but the diamond was big enough. Closing the box, I placed it back into my pocket.
“She’s in the guest room,” he informed, and I didn’t move. “Can I say something as…your friend?”
My eyebrow rose as I looked at him through the mirror. “My friend?”
“Forgive me. I meant the person who’s stood beside you for almost twenty years.”
“If you must,” I replied, noting his sarcasm.
“She’s terrified,” he replied, and I turned around, facing him. “I don’t care what she says. She has no idea who you are, and tonight you’ll be showing her off as your fiancée. Don’t be yourself.”
“Excuse me?”
“Or be less of yourself as much as you possibly can.”
“You do realize it’s because of the fact that you’ve stood beside me for almost twenty years that I’m not taking your head off right now, correct?”
He nodded. “Which is why I’m going to keep talking. You have a tendency to come off…cold, daunting, and threatening. She isn’t the enemy…she’s family.”
“Are you done?”
“No, but I’m guessing that’s all I’ll be able to get in tonight.”
“So you do have a brain,” I said as I walked toward the door.
He, still using that brain of his, walked over as well, opening it and allowing me to walk out first. When I did, I could see the guards standing outside her door only a few paces down the hall.
Daunting and threatening, I thought as I moved toward them. Neither of those words were bad things. I actually preferred them. However, this situation hardly called for either. Only problem was I couldn’t change how people perceived me.
Reaching up and knocking, which made little sense seeing as how I knew she was dressed and it was my damn house, I waited until she spoke.
“Come in.”
Turning the knob and stepping inside, I expected to see her waiting. However, she wasn’t inside the room.
“Out here,” she called from the balcony.
Following her voice, I headed toward the double doors, standing right where the door met the balcony, and where she sat on the railing, her blond hair brushed over her shoulder. Dressed in an emerald gown that hung off her shoulders and had a slit that went mid-thigh, I couldn’t help but look from there down her smooth legs to her bare feet. She was stunning…as she should be.
“Ethan Callahan,” she said, almost whispered.
“Ivy O’Davoren,” I replied, leaning against the frame.
She nodded. “I’m guessing you know a lot about me.”
“A criminal record will do that.”
“True.” The corner of her lip turned up. “But unfair. I’m not an actual criminal as you all have shown me. But you all are…and I couldn’t get any information on you.”
“First, you will be wise not to call my family…this family… criminals.” I did my best not to come off as harsh as I would if it were anyone else. “And secondly, Ms. O’Davoren, you have the rest of your life to get information about me but an occasion to get to tonight.”
“It’s your party. It starts whenever you show up, and so I’m not late,” she shot back, brushing her hair behind her ear. “Unless you don’t want to talk to me?”
“I’m not much of a talker.”
“Which makes you bizarre…I’ve never met an Irishman who didn’t like to talk…especially about himself.”
Smirking, I reminded her, “I’m only half-Irish.”
“Have you ever met a quiet Italian?” Her eyebrow went up.
She had a point. “Very well. I’m bizarre. Anything else?”
She sighed, hopping off the railing and stepping into her heels. Dressed, she stood straighter. “How do I look? Your cousin put a lot of effort into making sure I looked beautiful for you.”
“I know. I got the bill.”
She stepped right up to me, not stopping until there was barely a gap between our bodies. “You are making our first meeting very anti-climactic, Mr. Callahan.”
“Would you have preferred it if I grabbed you by the waist and kissed you the moment I laid eyes on you?”
She thought for a moment, honestly, before shaking her head. “Far too presumptive and threatening. But knowing that the thought crossed your mind is nice.”
“You are quite bizarre yourself, Ms. O’Davoren.” Not at all what I was picturing and I was normally a very good judge of character.
“How so?”
“Frankly, I’m wondering if you’re trying to seduce me. Which would be pointless because you already have me. Or if there is some other reason as to why you’re acting so…lucid and soft-spoken. From what I hear you tried to jump my grandmother when you first met her.”
“That—ugh…that was my bad. I guess.” She made a face and then shook her head like she suddenly remembered something. “No, I’m definitely not trying to seduce you! I’m just nervous and I don’t want to make a fool out of myself…more than I already have.”
I stared at her. “Then don’t.”
“Oh, thanks, I hadn’t thought of that.” She snapped at me and this time it was my eyebrow that rose. “Sorry. Just staring at me like that, it’s only making me more nervous…you’re just…”
“Handsome?”
“Cocky apparently!” She rolled her eyes and smiled. “And yes, handsome, but I was going to say daunting. I’ve heard so much about your family, so much about your position, as head of the family, and yet almos
t nothing about you. What you hate, what you like, what you love—”
“I hate disloyalty. I like and love loyalty.”
She just stared at me, her blue eyes peering into me so…innocently, it was jarring.
“Are you a robot?”
“Do you have any questions left worth answering?” If not, then I would prefer to get this night over with quickly.
“So that’s all you need from me then, loyalty?” she asked slowly, as if processing it. Why, I had no idea.
Reaching into my jacket pocket, I pulled out the ring box. Taking out the ring and dropping the box to the floor before I lifted her hand.
“I’m not romantic. I’m sure I’ll do or say many things that will come off anti-climactic, robotic, and bizarre as you have said. However,”—I slid the ring onto her finger—“I’ll never lie to you, nor will I abandon you. I’ll always be loyal and faithful. Everything I have will be yours always. In return I ask for the same.”
“What a ring!” She gaped down at the ring until a smile spread across her lips. “If this is you being ‘not romantic’ I’m curious to see what the romantic side of you is like. I can do loyalty… Happy birthday, by the way.” Her pink lips turned slightly.
Just like that she stepped back into the room, and I couldn’t help but think…if this was her not seducing me, what would the seductive side of her look like?
“Are you coming?”
Pushing off the door, I glanced back at her. “I’ve been informed it’s my party and as such I cannot be late.”
Her lips made a thin line. “Are you mocking me?”
“Yes.” I spun around and walked over. However, before she could open the door I closed it, spinning her back to face me and pinning her against it.
“Is this just nerves?”
“What?” Her eyes searched mine, probably as much as I searched hers.
“You told our lawyer, and I quote, ‘If they all drowned in their blood it wouldn’t be justice enough.’ Then upon meeting my grandmother, you tried to break free of your chains. And then immediately after she showed you a video, you called your family. The next morning you agreed to become my wife.”
