Vicious Minds

by J. J. McAvoy

  “Why didn’t you kill her?” he asked as I helped him to the dining chair. “I was expecting to wake up to her body and instead she’s convinced she’s had miscarriage which I have no doubt is impossible.”

  Reaching into my black bag, I pulled out a baggie with red pills and handed it to him. He didn’t even ask what they were or even for water. He popped them into his mouth and swallowed. I took a seat across from him.

  “I didn’t kill her because of Wyatt.”

  His eyebrow rose, waiting for me to explain.

  “Wyatt’s fragile now. He needs to be focused. If I killed her, he’d be more worried about you than doing what he needed to do. I hate to admit it, but Ivy helped give him the push he needed. He feels bad for her. That works to our advantage,” I answered, which only made him frown.

  “Let the record show that you are the one keeping her at my side.” He reached his hand out to me across the table. I took it and he held on tightly. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you didn’t want to come home with me.”

  “Good thing you know better.” I winked, relaxing into the horrid looking chair. “I want to come. Gigi needs to come. But I can’t help it. I know the future I want, so I have to—”

  “Follow the best plan in your mind to get there or you cannot rest,” he finished for me, nodding his head because he understood.

  “Exactly.”

  “I understand, but I won’t wait another week. You and our daughter will be by my side by the end of the month. No more excuses, no more delays. I’m done with it,” he said sternly his green eyes never wavering from mine. I was sure the exhaustion I saw in them wasn’t just because of the bullet and most likely mimicked the exhaustion in my eyes.

  “Yes, boss.” I whispered, squeezing his hand.

  He exhaled, closing his eyes for a moment before he smiled. “What did you give me?”

  “It feels really good, doesn’t it?” He grinned and nodded. He looked…cute. High and cute. “Call it a kiss of life.”

  “Can we package it up and sell it?” His business side reared its cunning head. Callahans… they truly wanted to own the world. It was insane, and it was what drew me to their family in the first place, that hunger for more.

  “We’ll talk about my rate later. There is so much I want to change and add to the family business.”

  He opened his eyes and looked at me. “You’re holding out on me?”

  “Absolutely. You’ve been taking enough credit for my ideas already. How else will I make grand entrance into your family?”

  He snickered. “Your grand entrance? Will there be a coronation?”

  “Are you not a king?” I challenged, looking him over again. “King Ethan of the bloody kingdom of Chicago. The wife of a king is a queen, so you’re damn right I’ll have a coronation. I expect a lot, the people on their knees, the respect, the fear…everything. Oh, and diamonds.”

  “A wise king never says no to his queen.” He took my hand and kissed the back of it. “I look forward to it.”

  As did I. “Let’s hope no more damn surprises get in our way.”

  “Calliope. End of the month.” He reminded me, and I knew then he didn’t care what happened. It had to be done.

  Thursday, September 21st

  Chicago, Illinois

  “One fucking thing after another,” he snapped over the phone as I cleaned inside the barrel of my sidearm. “After years, I’ve finally gotten the one I needed back home under the same damn roof, and all of sudden this Gabriel comes out motherfucking nowhere for Donatella.”

  “He didn’t come out of nowhere, I’m pretty sure your parents sent him.”

  “I don’t give fuck. I’m not giving him Donatella.”

  My eyebrow rose, and I knew he couldn’t see, but I couldn’t help it. “What makes you think Donatella is yours to give?”

  “She’s my sister—”

  “Exactly. Your sister, not your watch. She is a twenty-six-year-old woman; she’s the same age as me. Did you ask for anyone’s permission before taking me?”

  “That’s different—”

  “That’s sexist.”

  “Don’t even start—”

  “Too late. I’m starting,” I said as I began to clean off the bullets. “She’s your sister, you love and want to protect her, but I doubt you love or want to protect her as much as your father. Think of Gigi. Don’t you want to her to be with someone you approve and trust?”

  “No.” I stopped my cleaning to actually look at my phone. “Gigi is not aging past twelve so why would she need to be with anyone?”

  I laughed. “If you can do that, I will wash your feet with my hair.”

  “We don’t even know if it’s my parents who sent him,” he sighed, obviously lying to himself.

  “Your grandmother wouldn’t be backing him if it wasn’t.” I was going to force-feed the truth to him.

  “We don’t even know who he is yet,” he pressed, still fighting.

  “No, you don’t know who he is.” I glanced at the database on my computer before picking up the knife to clean out the grooves in the bullet.

  “Whoever he is, he is not good enough—”

  “Prince Gabriel Honoré Déllacqua III, Hereditary Prince of Monaco, the Marquis of Baux…that is as good as it gets for her. And to be perfectly honest, he was my second choice if you ended up rejecting me.”

  That was a lie. And his silence made me wish I could see his face. I could feel his annoyance and rage through the fucking phone.

  “I’m going to kill them.”

  “Dona and her Prince Charming?”

  “No, the two people who can’t help but play fucking God.”

  “You can hardly blame your parents for securing their daughter’s—”

  “Whose side are you on?”

  I sighed. He really was upset by this. “Yours, like always. Which is why I’m glad your sister’s ambition was what made her almost coup seem so believable. She needs her own crown, her own place of power or else your life will be very difficult because I sure as hell will not tolerate her bullshit as you do. Nor would she tolerate me besting her. You want me to care about your family? I will try. The only way that is remotely possible, the only way I don’t kill her is if I can treat her as an equal. The only way she can be my equal is if she isn’t in Chicago. Who knows, if she becomes the supreme princess maybe we could be friends. Unless you want to see me destroy her in a war she wouldn’t be able to help but start if she remained here. I already have one named bullet, should I make another?”

  “Donatella is stronger—”

  “Than most women but I am not most women and you know that. Do not try to dodge the comments by trying to make me upset over your sister. I know what she’s capable of…and it’s still child’s play to me. Hopefully real power and responsibility will make her grow up a bit.”

  “Are you sure you both are the same age?”

  “Let her go, baby. For her sake, your sake, and mine.”

  Silence.

  So I was silent and returned to my cleaning.

  “My greed…I don’t know when it became so bad.” He chuckled to himself. “I want everything, Calliope. It’s not just a joke. I want to be king of the damn world. I want things that contradict each other. This greed, this thirst for more, for power…”

  “We are free to be greedy, Ethan, so long as we are not blinded by that greed.” I leaned back on my chair. Who didn’t want to be all powerful? “I know…because I’m exactly the same as you. Which is why I’m glad she’s going. The last thing I want to do is hurt the people you care about, but my greed…I’ve held it back for years. I’ve swallowed my pride, I’ve allowed you to indulge, I’ve dedicated my life to your greed, and I did so because one day I’d demand half of everything. That day is here and I’m not letting your sister, or anyone else for that matter, get in my way. Play the big brother role, threaten him a little, maybe even knock him around while he’s still pretending not to be a prince, do
what you must. And then say goodbye. You gave me a deadline and I plan on meeting it.”

  “As you wish,” he said and hung up.

  Taking off the ear bud and placing it on the table, I ran my thumb over the 3 letters engraved on the silver bullet. IVY.

  Monday, September 29th

  Chicago, Illinois

  There was an ache that coursed throughout my body. I didn’t hurt me. It didn’t make me feel ill. It was odd. I’d never felt anything like it before. But I couldn’t stop it. I had to concentrate even more than normal because my hands were shaking. I could feel my heart, it was going wild within my chest, and everything was so clear. I felt as if I were in one of those scenes in the movies where everything slowed down, like I had somehow stepped out of reality and was going beyond it. I could see everything: every bird, every rustle of the leaves, each and every strand of her blonde hair as she spun, cheerfully speaking to Wyatt on the runway.

  “Now.” His voice was like lightning to my soul and without hesitation I fired. Her head jerked back and her body fell to the ground like a marionette without its strings. It was quick and it was beautiful. It was so good it needed Italian opera music in the background.

  “You’re up, boss.” I said and through the scope I saw him give his best performance yet. In another life he could have been a world-famous actor.

  Looking over, I watched as the man I’d hired to kill her escaped from the roof a few hundred feet in front of me. The bullet I used was light and shattered after impact. No one would be able to guess the true trajectory of it. Anyone who looked would think it was him.

  I’ll kill him later.

  I got up from the floor of my hotel suite. Closing the balcony door, I walked over to the table beside the couch and picked up the bottle of wine, pouring myself a glass and taking a seat.

  I looked at my hand again, seeing it shake. I squeezed it shut before I drank. I tried to relax but I couldn’t help it. That ache came back and this time it came with tears, but I wasn’t sad. In fact, before I knew it, I was laughing. I laughed and laughed until my side hurt and I had to put my hand on my chest.

  It was only after my emotions passed that I realized…I was happy. I was happy and excited and finally, fucking finally, able to say I won.

  Nineteen years, almost five of which were shrouded in secrecy while I watched him with two different weak, insipid women, and a daughter later…I was finally Mrs. Callahan.

  Chicago was mine.

  The Callahan name was mine.

  Ethan was mine now for the world to see.

  I won.

  “Veni, vidi, vici.” (I came; I saw; I conquered)

  I just laughed. Finally.

  Fucking finally!

  Tuesday, September 30th

  Chicago, Illinois

  When I stepped inside, he was dressed casually in all white, lighting a candle in the center of the room. There were dozens of small candles.

  “You’re early.”

  I glanced around at the pink, red, and white roses all over the room. The candles in the shape of a heart on the marble floor with red roses inside it, there was even a path leading to it but it was made of white rose petals. There were wine, champagne, and deserts on the dining table set for two towards the side of the large room. On the ceiling there were lights and hanging from them all were postcards. I reached up to touch one and realized nothing was on it but a date. All of them were like that…I knew the dates. They were the dates and places we’d met up over the years.

  “Apparently it’s customary to put photos of us up but we…”

  “Never took photos,” I finished his sentence, looking at the next postcard. “You recorded every time we met?”

  “Yes, well someone rarely called so I had to keep myself from going insane somehow,” he muttered, patiently waiting in his heart as I looked at everything else but him.

  “All of this is very romantic,” I whispered, glancing over my shoulder at him. “Are you going to sing me a song too?”

  “If you’d like.” His eyes looked over the tight dress I wore. “It seems that despite my best efforts, you knew this was coming.”

  “I truly did not.” I picked up one of the roses. “I just felt like looking nice, and maybe I want to seduce you a bit tonight.”

  “You succeeded.” His voice was barely above whisper as I smelled the rose.

  “You didn’t have to do all this,” I told him as I stepped on to the rose petal path.

  “Yes, I did. I’ve listened to you say ‘your family’ or ‘you Callahans’ for long enough. This is your family, you are Callahan, now come here so I can give your prize,” he demanded.

  I glared, but it was rendered useless by the grin on my face. My butterfly heels clicked softly over the roses as I walked towards. “I’m only listening because I’m expecting you to get on your knees.”

  “Knee,” he corrected, pulling out a dark velvet box. “I’m not bowing, I’m proposing.”

  “Same thing, isn’t it?” I joked, and he shook his head, getting down on one knee. Before he could open the box, I warned him, “This better be one hell of a ring—”

  He opened the box and grinned knowing it was in fact one hell of a ring. It was well over 30 carats. The diamond was bright red and in the shape of a tear drop, with smaller white diamonds surrounding it. It was set in gold and was by far the most beautiful ring I’d ever seen.

  “My mother stole this diamond from Alexei Rozhkov when she was only eighteen. Red diamonds are the rarest in the world, one of this size is even rarer. No one even believed Rozhkov when he said it had it. He was petrified to show it to anyone. It was worth 14 million then, and that value has doubled by now. It’s the largest red diamond in history. My mother showed it to me a year before she faked her death and I asked her why she never wore it. She said at first, it was because everyone was looking for it and it drew unwanted attention. Then as people forgot about it, she never wore it because she loved the ring my father gave her. And then finally she decided she was going to leave it to her daughter.”

  “Yet you’re giving it to me.” It wasn’t a question because now that I saw it, it was mine.

  “She simply said daughter. That includes daughter-in-law as well, doesn’t it? She gave her own daughter a damn country. The least she could do for the love of her son’s life is to allow me to give her this ring.” He lifted the ring from the box and took my hand. “Calliope Seraphina Orsini, will you allow me to…. put this bloody ring on your finger so I can get up off my goddamn knees? I was shot recently—”

  I snatched my hand back, crossing my arms “Try again.”

  He laughed and smiling at me he nodded. “Calliope Seraphina Orsini, it’s been almost twenty years, but yes, I accept your proposal. I will marry you.”

  He pulled my hand back to him and slid the ring on I glared at him, ready to…ugh. Damn it! He was right; I was the one who proposed, well demanded we get married first, as kids.

  “Would it kill you to be a bit more romantic?” I muttered when he got off the floor.

  He shook his head and pointed around the room. “Did this look easy to set up? I’m all romanced out at the moment.”

  “Is that so? Excuse me if I don’t kiss you then—”

  He pulled me to him, wrapping his arms around my waist and placing his hands on my ass. “That I cannot excuse, Mrs. Calliope Callahan.”

  I put my now heavier ring finger over his lips. “I don’t need a song, but I need to hear something so romantic that this dress cannot in good conscience stay on.”

  He opened to his mouth to speak.

  “I want to hear the truth, not just lines, and I want to hear it in Italian.”

  “Yes, your majesty,” he said in Italian, resting his forehead on mine. “But know I have never once not told you the truth. Mostly because I never wanted to lie to you and secondly because you’d know it was a lie to begin with. You’re asking me for romantic words, I don’t know if I have them or if they are a
ny different from what I have already told you. But I’ll say it again. Calliope, there is no other person, living or dead, that has ever understood me, frustrated me, scared me, excited me, and made me as happy as you. Every moment you were not with me I missed you. I missed you to the point where it was less painful to pretend you didn’t exist, to just force you out of my thoughts, than to think of you. I have hated and regretted every moment I betrayed you. The thought of you with anyone else was enough to drive me mad, and yet you patiently stood by as I…as I worked. No other woman could do that, not even my mother. You are so strong; at times, it terrifies me because I’m not sure if I’m being fooled by you, if you really love me too. I’ve fallen that deep and that hard, and I don’t even care. You could cut out my heart and I’d still call you la mia anima, because I know you are my soulmate—”

  I kissed him. How could I not kiss him? How could I not jump him? Picking me up, he carried me over to the bed. I heard him accidentally kick one of the candles, but he didn’t care. He dropped me on to the bed, already pulling at my dress.

  “Marry me,” he finally said as he kissed my neck, his hand already on my bare breast.

  “Yes,” I moaned as he gripped me tighter.

  “Love me,” he demanded.

  “Always.”

  “Stay with me.” He kissed down to my breast.

  “Forever.” I held on to his hair. He managed to pull the rest of my dress off and see me naked. As in, yes, I wore nothing under my dress. He immediately spread my thighs.

  “Welcome home, Mrs. Callahan.”

  ETHAN – AGE 28

  Tuesday, September 30th

  Chicago, Illinois

  She signed her name on the marriage license before I did. I glanced at it once more before putting it into the envelope and sealing it, handing it back to her. Her eyebrow raised slightly, and a small grin crossed her lips.

  “I trust you to file it,” she said.