by J. J. McAvoy
Orlando had wanted to make sure he died after my wedding because he didn’t want me to feel alone. I tried to tell him I wasn’t lonely, but he always told me the path of a Boss was a dark and lonely one. I never had friends. I never socialized with anyone other than my men and the servants at our home. I always kept myself busy learning languages, studying, and training. I never thought too much about it. Not until now. Not until Orlando, the only family I had, had died. It hit me like a tsunami. I did not have anyone. And then there was Liam.
For the first time I understood why Orlando had pushed me so hard into accepting him, because even though I didn’t trust Liam yet, the promise of future trust was there. He was now the only family I had. A fact that confused me.
I felt like I could trust him. I wanted to trust him. I wanted to be what he needed, because now I needed somebody. I never realized how much Orlando filled that role for me. Over the last four years since I had become Boss, he was the one person I vented to. The one person I used as a whiteboard for all my plans, telling him each and every step just because I needed to get it out of my head. I told him when I was stressed, when I just wanted to murder someone, and when I did murder someone. Orlando was my true right-hand, and now Liam was taking his place. Not in a creepy Liam is my daddy type way, but more like Liam was now the only person I could freely speak with.
Everyone else was under me, everyone else I didn’t respect. Orlando had been it. Now Liam was.
“You were right,” Liam replied, his voice serious as he took a seat in front of me. The maids were gone. I hated that he was in pajama bottoms. I missed staring at his ass.
“I know.” I smirked. “But about what?”
Rolling his eyes at me, he handed me the file before heading to his desk. He grabbed his brandy and poured us both a cup. Looking over the flight transcript, I grinned.
“Amory is on his way to Austria,” I read aloud, taking the glass he offered.
“Yes, and I was thinking about using it as a cover.” He frowned, drinking slowly. I waited for him to go on, but he didn’t.
“Well?” I asked, annoyed that I had to waste words.
He eyed me carefully as though I were a child before he spoke, and it pissed me off. “Orlando didn’t want the world knowing he was sick. I was thinking of causing a fake accident and let rumor spread it was Amory.”
He stopped, and in my mind I thought it was perfect. But he misread my facial expression.
“I don’t mean to use your father’s death as a chess piece, nor do I want to—”
“Liam, shut the hell up. I’m not a child whose feelings will get hurt. Yes, I care for Orlando, but he is dead. I knew it was coming for years. It sucks, but don’t treat me as if I’m glass. My father would have loved to be used to screw the Valero. So let’s do what we do best—a game of chess.”
I was not going to be seen as emotional because my daddy was dead. Nor would I let Liam forget who I was, even though our relationship was changing. I was still a fucking Boss, and I still had work to do.
He raised an eyebrow to at me before leaning back and smirking. “Glass you are not, wife. Very well. We will allow Amory to think he killed Orlando. The bastard will be so full of himself he’ll take bigger risks, thinking he took out the great Iron Hands. When he goes to Morocco in the next couple of weeks, we will go to Italy and burn down some cars.”
“Vance will be forced to react and bark orders at Amory, who will tell Ryan, and when we know, we will keep bleeding him dry,” I replied.
“Death by a thousand cuts.”
“And then cut off his head,” I said, raising my glass before knocking it back.
He handed me another file, this one full of pictures of all his men.
The first was of a hazel-eyed, dark-haired man in his early thirties. “Patrick Darragh, is like my malware. He can make sure nothing that we don’t want in the press gets in the press, and he can also get anything on air in seconds.”
“The next is Dylan Cormac,” he said as I looked at the green-eyed man. “He is my weapons expert. If you want it, he can get it, no matter what it is.”
I filed through all the photos quickly. “You fucking Irish breed like rabbits.”
“Speaking of, how many kids do you want?”
I glared at him, not sure if I should shoot him or not. “You will find out when I’m okay with the idea of being barefoot and pregnant.”
“Why do I have a feeling that that isn’t a measurable amount of time?”
“How about we get to know each other, and in a few years, we can discuss this topic again,” I said, and he grinned, the fucker. I knew he just couldn’t wait until I was round and fat, unable to drink, and stuck in bed while he fucked over the world. Hell to the fucking no to that.
“Was that Rule Four?”
“I guess so.”
THIRTEEN
“Murder is not the crime of criminals,
but that of law-abiding citizens.”
~ Emmanuel Teney
LIAM
“The plan was flawless,” I said, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Every last detail was planned out for you, you no good brainless cocksuckers. We all but drew you a fucking map! So where the fuck did I lose you!”
I threw a gun at Neal, Antonio, Eric, and Jinx’s faces. Those idiotic muscle-head fuckers messed up, and I was tempted to kill them all.
“Sir, we had Amory on the Port Lincoln, but he had already been in Austria for days and knew something was up. We set the trip wires and even gave him time to leave, but the Italian here didn’t give us a heads up he was circling back,” Eric said, looking at Antonio who was ready to throw a punch at his fucking face.
“You know what, you Irish son of a bitch—”
“Enough!” I stepped forward, my voice still echoing off the rafters. “Will one of you explain to me how we lost some of our own fucking men? Did you push the idiot button?”
“Amory found the trip wires and reconfigured them onto the safe house,” Neal answered, looking me dead in the eye, and I wanted to bash his fucking skull in. We lost five of our men—three Irish, two Italian—all blown to bits because of their fucking dumb shit.
“Is this your first time on a mission? You embarrassed the family.” I moved toward Neal. “You embarrassed me, and now you stand before me with your cocks in your hands unsure of what to do with yourselves.”
Sighing, I turned back around to find my wife sitting in my leather chair behind the oak desk, simply staring at the fucked-up men behind me. She was stunning dressed in a beautiful blue, lace dress with her white shoes. But I knew she was just as pissed as I was. In the last nine days, we had fought and fucked hard, and I was starting to read her as well as she could read me. Unfortunately, our men were like cavemen and had no idea how to fucking work together, and now I had five dead on my hands.
We stood in my basement with all our men around us, but no one was speaking. Not a single one of them. Mel pulled out a gun and placed it on the table with a single bullet before looking me in the eyes. She wanted blood, and so did I.
“Who was the biggest fuck up?” she asked softly. I noticed she never really yelled at the men when she was pissed off. In fact, her voice became softer, as though she wanted to haunt those around her.
No one spoke up, so I walked up beside her, leaning against the table. “She asked a question. We want an answer, or we will kill you all and start over. How much do we pay them, love?”
She glared at me, and I knew she hated when I called her that in public, but I didn’t care.
“Five million a year? I could go to the ghetto and get men to replace them in five minutes with the offer of 500k,” she said offhandedly as she spun the gun on the table.
Nodding, I looked back at the men. “So again, we ask, who fucked up the most?”
Eric stepped forward. “It was Ian.”
And the moment he said it, Mel lifted the gun and shot him right in the kneecap, the poor fuck. I didn’t even know th
e gun was loaded, seeing as how there was one bullet still on the table.
Mel hissed at him. “Since when do you give up your brother, you fucker?” And she had a point. Even when we commanded them, they weren’t supposed to give that information up unless someone was betraying us.
Eric yelled like a dying pig as Ian stepped forward. Pushing off the desk, I extended my hand for Mel as she rose from the chair.
“This bullet is for you, Ian,” I told him as he eyed the gun and bullet. Eric’s bitching was all that could be heard as we waited.
“Five dead because of you. Take your own life,” I said as Mel and I walked to the elevators.
“If he doesn’t,” Mel added as we stepped into the waiting elevator, “the rest of you put the idiot out of his misery. That’s an order.”
She must have timed it perfectly because the doors closed right on cue.
“I like Eric,” I told her as we rode up to the main floor. My mother was throwing one of her many end-of-the-summer charity bullshits, and we all had to attend, of course.
“Next time he will hopefully keep his mouth shut.” She smirked, obviously enjoying shooting him way too much.
“Touché, but we can use this fuck up to lay the cover-up. For all anyone knows, one of the five really could have been Orlando. We can release a statement tomorrow,” I said stopping the elevator and pushing her against the wall. I wanted her. I needed her, and if I didn’t have her right then, I would have to wait hours.
“Calm the fuck down, Liam.” She glared at me. “Whenever you see blood you get excited.”
“Whenever I see you spill blood I get excited. There is a difference,” I said, correcting her as I leaned against her.
“We have an interview we’re late for,” she said, as I grabbed the back of her neck, allowing my hands to wander up and bury themselves in her hair.
“Then we can have a quickie,” I lied, nothing ever came quick for either of us, and she knew it.
She pushed me off her as she began brushing off her dress and released the elevator to get it to start moving again. “You’re quickly becoming a sex addict.”
“Only for you.” I winked, fixing my tie as the doors opened. And there waiting for us was my mother, tapping her pumps against the floor.
“You both are late. I have Time Magazine waiting to take a photo of the happy couple without the happy couple,” she said, her voice clipped.
“Evelyn, Time Magazine will wait for as long as we want them to wait seeing as they’re the only ones we’re talking to,” Mel replied.
I watched in amusement as they spoke with their eyes. However, it faded when my mother slapped me in the arm without warning.
“The elevator Liam, honestly?” She huffed at me, while I stared at her in confusion. Mel and my mother seemed to speak a language with their eyes that no one else seemed to understand.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with him, Evelyn.” Mel smirked, before winking back at me.
“Let’s fix your hair before the whole world knows about it.” She sighed, taking Mel from my side. I hated to say it, but it ticked me off. Over the last few days, Mel and I had spent most of our time together. Sometimes we talked, most of the time we fucked, and the rest of the time we just laid next to each other. It was like we were both allowing our bodies, minds, and souls to just get used to one another, and I loved every moment of it, which was why I hated when she was taken away from me.
“I know that look.” My father smirked, as he stepped next to me.
“What look?” I hissed, as I leaned against the wall waiting for my wife to come back. My wife. It made me smirk.
“That look.” The old fool grinned. “I know it, because it comes across my face from time to time. It’s lust, it’s desire, it’s hope and love all wrapped into one. It took you a little over a week. It only took me forty-eight hours.”
I hate him sometimes. “It’s too soon for love, father.”
He snorted. My father, Sedric Callahan, snorted. “If Shakespeare had said that the world would have never known Romeo and Juliet. Do you still hate her?”
“I never said that,” I interrupted quickly. “I’ve been waiting for someone like her for a long time and didn’t even know it. However, I can’t let her know that I . . . I can lust after her, I can be loyal, and I can care, but I can’t love her yet. She doesn’t get love. So I will wait for her to feel something.”
“And if she doesn’t?”
I straightened up off the wall once I saw them heading toward us. “I’ll still be right here.”
“Who are you and what have you done with my son?” His old eyes gleamed at me.
“Do not even start, Father.”
“What are you both whispering about?” My mother eyed us carefully when she finally reached us.
My father smirked, kissing her cheek. “World domination.” She rolled her eyes at him while Mel just raised an eyebrow at me.
“You had your chance and failed. Time to step aside and let the new blood step up,” my mother said. My father pretended to be hurt, before pulling her into his arms. That was what I wanted to do with Mel, but she would most likely shoot me for showing public displays of affection . . . or any type of display.
As if to prove my thoughts, Mel stared at them in confusion before meeting my gaze as if to tell me, your family is so odd.
“Don’t you have an interview, oh new king and queen?” my father asked us with a smirk. He had officially given up his title on the night of our wedding, and since then I . . . Mel and I ruled, and he was more relaxed, happy even. He had been waiting a long time to step down, and here I thought this whole time that he just didn’t want to give up his title, but he did. He just wanted to make sure he would never have to step back in again.
After offering my arm to Mel, we both headed toward the living room, and I laughed when I saw her working on relaxing her face.
“Shut up. God knows how long we will have to smile for these people,” Mel retorted as I stopped at the door.
“Just be like Evelyn.”
“Be like your mother? You’re a sick fuck, Liam Callahan.” She winked, making me want to both strangle and kiss her.
“Be unlike yourself,” I replied through my teeth, before opening the door.
When I did, she stepped forward. “We’re so sorry we are late. Tearing Liam away from his work can be difficult. He’s shy about these things,” she said kindly, as the crew smiled at her.
It never failed to amaze me how quickly she could switch on and off. She had the ability to disarm people so easily.
“Oh, don’t be, Mrs. Callahan. We are just so glad you could make time for us. I’m Jan, and this is my crew. We were just making sure the lighting and whatnot was okay.” The woman grinned, obviously already figuring out that she was getting the interview of a lifetime. Walking up beside my wife, I wrapped my arm around her waist.
“Do you need anything? I’m sure we could have someone come to help out,” I said softly overusing my Irish accent. She froze, staring into my eyes. Without fail it happened to every fucking woman I met except Mel. The one person I wished it did happen with.
“Liam, stop before you give the poor woman a heart attack.” Mel smiled up at me, but all I saw were knives in her eyes before she turned back to Jan. “Please don’t mind him. He doesn’t know the full extent of his Irish charm.”
I rolled my eyes and kissed her cheek affectionately. I felt her stiffen just slightly, but she didn’t break out of character. “All I needed it for was to catch you.”
I still needed it to catch her.
“This is going to be a great interview. I can feel it. Are you both ready?” Jan asked. Nodding we walked over to the chairs that were staged for us. I waited for Mel to sit down first before taking mine right next to her. The moment I did, she leaned in like a fucking pro and placed her hand on my knee. For someone who had never done an interview before she was doing well. Crossing all the t’s and dotting her i’s. But th
at was my wife, a master manipulator.
“First of all, it’s my pleasure to be sitting across from America’s Royal Couple,” Jan said to us, leaning forward.
Mel looked at me, and I knew that if Jan wasn’t careful, my wife would kill her.
“America’s Royal Couple?” she smiled before letting out a small fake laugh.
“Yes, Mrs. Callahan, all of America loves you, and I have to say I personally loved your wedding dress. After your wedding, orders came flying in all over the country,” Jan said, gushing.
“Oh, my God, really?” Mel blushed, looking innocent and doe-eyed while she held on to my knee with a grip from hell. “That is so odd to me. Suddenly, everyone cares about my clothing and hair. I feel like a celebrity or something.”
“Believe me when I say there are no bigger celebrities than you two. My friends are even trying to figure out the secret behind the Liam Callahan sex hair,” she continued, and it took all I had not to groan instead of smile for the fucking camera.
“Honestly, I do nothing,” I said, laughing.
“Because he is Liam Callahan and is naturally sexy,” Mel continued, before sticking her tongue out. So I leaned in and kissed her lips.
“See why I can never win a fight?” Mel frowned back at Jan, before grinning again. “He just kisses me, or worse takes off his shirt, and I’m completely dumbfounded.”
If only that was fucking true.
“Yes, because I’m Liam Callahan and naturally sexy,” I said, throwing her words back at her before turning to Jan. “Do you think we can get that on a bumper sticker?”
Mel hit me, laughing softly, and I disliked it simply because it wasn’t her. This bubbly, preppy faker was not my wife. It was odd, because I had wanted her to be like this before we met. However, my Mel, both in private and with our men, was stronger, ruthless, and sexy. This Mel was cute, but it wasn’t her, and I wanted her to be who she truly was when she was with me.