by J. J. McAvoy
None of them spoke.
“Good.” Outstretching my hand, Greyson handed me the papers, which I simply threw onto the table in front of us. They were pictures of Sammy, along with two dozen people none of them knew.
“I don’t understand.” Frank lifted the photos.
“Greyson.” The moment I called him, he opened the second door of the den, allowing Toby to bring Sammy inside, who didn’t have a scratch, but looked ready to shit himself. Toby pushed him onto his knees next to my chair. “Sammy, tell your uncle what you did.”
Sammy dropped his head.
“Sammy? What did you do?” Frank pressed, but still the boy didn’t speak.
“Frank, you know how I hate when people ignore me when I speak,” I said calmly, taking the scotch Greyson handed me to drink.
“Sammy, this ain’t a game. Speak.”
Sammy finally lifted his head up as I drank. “I cut the product with Fentanyl.”
“You bloody cunt,” Frank cursed, groaning, then looked at me. “Sir, he’s just a stupid—”
“A stupid kid? He’s twenty. He’s not a kid and if he’s stupid it’s no one else’s fault but his own. Right, Sammy?”
“Yes…sir.”
“See?” I sat, putting my glass down and pulling out my revolver, holding it out to Frank.
He stared at it for the longest time then back at me.
“He degraded my shit to make a quick buck. In doing so nearly thirty people have died in the last month, and now I’ve got people asking questions no one has asked since my mother passed. It’s either you or him,” I replied, and he took the gun, rising to his feet, walking around Savino to stand in front of his nephew, who of course began to cry.
“I told you, you had to be careful.” Frank shook his head, holding it to the boy’s skull.
“Any day now.” I drank, a piece of ice slipping into my mouth.
“Tell mama I’m sorry.” Sammy closed his eyes tightly and…Frank pulled the trigger. Sammy flinched. However, upon realizing he wasn’t dead his head snapped back up to look at his uncle, who was staring at the gun.
“Well, aren’t you lucky,” I said, holding my hand out for the gun. Frank quickly put it back in my hand and when he did I spun it in my palm then fired. “Your uncle not so much.”
“UNCLE!” he hollered, trying to get up from his knees, but Toby held him down. Frank’s body was already on the ground, the bullet going right between his eyes. Placing the gun back at my chest, I leaned back.
“You killed him,” Sammy finally spoke.
“I know. That was the point of the gun. Would you like us to ship his body or his ashes?” I asked Sammy, who was unable to look away from Frank’s body. “He wasn’t such a bad man after all.”
“His body,” he whispered.
“You’re free to go.” Which meant Toby was free to have him dropped off at whatever street corner they got him off. I waited till he was gone before turning toward Mahoney and Savino. “I don’t seem biased, do I?”
“Not at all,” they both said.
Grinning at the enthusiasm, I moved on to more important matters. “Did you know my grandmother wants almost four hundred people at my wedding?”
Savino snickered. “That’s nothing. You should have seen your parents’. People were tripping over themselves trying to get in.”
Irish and Italians. We knew how to drink and fuck a little too well…if our relations got any bigger we’d need to rent a small city.
IVY
My feet were killing me when it was finally over. Entering the guest room, the first thing I did was take them off, tossing them to the side. Hearing the door open and close, I didn’t turn around, and he didn’t come any closer.
I turned back to find Ethan, still perfectly dressed, leaning against the door, his green eyes traveling up my body until they stopped on my breasts and then finally my face. I couldn’t lie. He was…fucking hot. The type of guy you’d see in magazines and secretly wish for a night with. His shoulders were broad, his jawline so sharp I was sure he’d cut someone with it, but weirdly enough, it was his lips that I couldn’t stop staring at. They had felt amazing on mine…gentle and passionate…promising—
Focus, Ivy!
“You’re staring,” I said.
“So are you.”
I was, but I didn’t mean to.
“You disappeared and left me to fend for myself.”
“I wasn’t aware you’d need protection…I highly doubt anyone tonight was any worse than who you met in prison.”
Ugh, he’s annoying! He had a comeback for everything!
“Your kiss was unexpected,” I whispered, reaching for my back zipper when his hands brushed mine away, unzipping the dress for me.
“I have a thing for singers…who knew,” he said softly as I held up the front of my dress.
“And now what is your excuse?”
“My excuse?”
I nodded, staring at the giant bed only a few feet from us. “Entering my room without knocking, unzipping my dress without me asking you to.”
“Your room is my room. This is a guest room…in my house,” he stated, not backing away. “As for the dress…I believed you were struggling and I offered my assistance.”
“Translation…you were hoping I’d just let it drop and you could just take me.”
“Not the worst outcome.”
Annoyed, I turned around and faced him, wishing for a second I didn’t because the way he looked at me made my body hot…I just tried to convince myself it was the fact that I hadn’t willingly felt a man in seven years.
I let the dress drop. His green eyes traced every inch of me before looking me back in the eye.
“I’m here,” I said to him. “All pretty and smooth…but you haven’t earned me yet.”
“Earned you?” He snickered.
“What? Just because I came from prison and you’re the great Ethan Callahan I’d say have at it?” I pushed back. “We’re in a contract. I became a woman suited to be Mrs. Callahan. That’s why I paraded myself in front of all those shitty people and your ex-girlfriend Klarissa.” I waited for him to deny it and when he didn’t I went on. “I was charming, beautiful, and made you look good. I even kissed you back. Before you get anything else, some of my demands should be met.”
“Your hit list? I have a—”
“Michael Deans, Richard Doher, both formerly worked at the prison but retired. Kellyann Heaton was transferred, and one other man who works the third and eight rotations. He has blue eyes and a buzz cut. He started recently. If I knew his name I’d tell you, but I did my best to block out the…” I closed my eyes, inhaling deeply before opening my eyes. “I did my best to block out the ones that were more beast than men. I want them hurt.”
“Just hurt?”
“So hurt nothing can fix them,” I said clearly. “They don’t get to just die.”
He stared me down. “And their families?”
I thought he was joking, but he waited for me to reply.
“I don’t have anything against their families! Just them,” I said quickly.
He reached up and grabbed my chin, lifting my head up to look at my neck again.
“I told you, I was fine.”
“You never said fine. You said you didn’t care.” He frowned.
“Well, I’m saying it now.” I brushed his hands away. I didn’t want him touching me. “And my family should know about us now.”
“First, they are not your family, Ivy.” He reminded me and it stung. “Second, let me worry about that—”
“First, family is always family no matter what they do or say. They are still blood. Second, revenge is the only reason why I am here,” I replied. “So excuse me if I don’t just trust you either.”
“Who are you, Ivy?” he asked, and I wasn’t sure what he meant by it. “You shouldn’t hesitate. Good night.”
“Who are you then?” I called out before he could leave.
“Ethan
Antonio Giovanni Callahan, head of the Callahan family and your future husband.”
And just like that he left.
I glanced down at the rock on my finger. My future husband.
Mine.
EIGHT
“For in my way it lies. Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires.”
~ William Shakespeare
DONATELLA
Swirling the wine in my glass, I stared up at the family portrait that hung above the fireplace, leaning back into the leather seat.
“One down, one to go, Nana,” I whispered, bringing the glass to my lips.
“How did you know it was me?” She walked up beside the chair, still in her dress as I was.
“Caron’s Poivre,” I answered. She was the only one who wore that perfume. She’d worn it for as long as I could remember. “Ivy and Ethan will get along well. Which leaves Wyatt the only one you have left to worry over.”
“And what about you, young lady?” She glanced down at me.
I was actually surprised by that question. “You and I both know that men need a woman for a variety of different reasons. Mostly they all desire to be loved intensely. Women validate them and make them look complete and capable to others.”
“And for women? You don’t think we also want to be validated and to look complete?”
I drank again. “Of course we do, desperately. But I also know that unlike men, women can function, can still rule the world with a hollow heart. Because we often have to choose between family or ambition, we learned to swallow the pain of whichever we gave up.”
“Your mother found a way to have both.”
“Did she?” I took a glimpse back at the woman seated, dressed in white, with the same olive skin and face as me. “She came close, closer than any other woman, but in the end she failed too…she just happened to die before anyone else could notice.”
When she didn’t reply I knew she was staring at me. That worried look on her face she’d often give me whenever I spoke like this. I preferred not to see it tonight.
“What do you want, Dona?”
What a horrible question. Snickering, I answered honestly, “Everything. I want power, recognition, fame, and respect. I want to be a queen, not a princess. I want to walk into a room and watch every person bow their heads to me as I walk by. I want there to be books written about me. I want to be the topic of some university student’s final exam. I want to create change, lasting change. I also want to be a mother and wife…I want to marry a man who’s so in love with me it drives him to the brink of insanity and back again. A man who’s on par with me, who is also respected and feared, who understands my ambitions will sometimes overshadow his. Who can stand being the background to my foreground. I want everything, Nana, and every day I don’t get it I feel like I’m burning on the inside. Like there is a monster inside of me that will continue clawing at my heart until I give it what it wants.”
“That is the tragedy of women born with the ambitions of men.”
I laughed. She didn’t get it. “It’s not the ambitions of men, it’s the ambitions of me. And I will get it…everything I want…or die trying. I won’t give up like she did.”
I lifted my glass to the woman in the painting, not sure if she’d be proud or just as worried as my grandmother, and not caring either way. Ethan and Wyatt were still so wounded by their deaths…but I’d buried that a long time ago.
“I love you, Dona.” She kissed the top of my head before leaving, most likely because she had no idea what to say to me.
Finishing off the wine, I put it on the table before rising from my seat, turning around just as the doors opened again, this time revealing no one other than Tobias, aka Toby, my brother’s only friend even if he wouldn’t admit it.
“You really should stop sharing your darker thoughts with her. She worries over you,” he spoke frankly.
“She’s scared of me,” I corrected.
“Your grandmother has seen a lot. I hardly doubt she’s scared—”
“She’s scared not because of what I want, but because she has no idea how I’ll get it,” I clarified for him, though he should have seen it. “She’s worried that one day I’ll get so power hungry that I’ll end up betraying this whole family.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“Don’t be certain. Even I don’t know what I will do sometimes.” I winked, heading toward the door when he grabbed my arm, pulling me back.
“Yes?” I stared into his hazel-brown eyes.
“Don’t treat me like everyone else.” He sneered. “I know you better than them all. Your love for your brothers is the only thing that eclipses your aspirations.”
“I know you too, Tobias.” I reached up, brushing the loose strands of his brown hair. “I know you’re exactly the man I need, but won’t accept because you lack the status to stand next to me. I know you’re aware that the only reason you can grab my arm is because I’m letting you. And most importantly, we both know the only reason you count on my love for my brothers, which as you say, eclipses my aspirations, is because deep down you’re painfully aware that if I asked you to choose…if I asked you to betray the man you considered to be your brother, you’d do it. You’d hate me for making you do it and you’d hate yourself because you’d love me even afterward.”
He flinched, his whole body like stone, as he scowled at me for simply speaking the truth.
“Donatella C. Valentino. It has a beautiful ring to it, doesn’t it? Italian for brave and strong, which also suits me perfectly, but then again you knew that, didn’t you? It is your name, Tobias.” I verbalized his own desire, his own ambition, owning a woman who was out of his league.
Fuming, his nose flaring, he squeezed harder. “Do you truly believe that I’ll be in love with you forever? That I’ll do this with you forever?”
“Yes,” I said without a shadow of doubt. “Atoms shall be infinite. The sun will rise in the east and set in the west. Time will go on in perpetuum. And Tobias Nikolai Valentino will always love me. Whether he’ll be with me or not is completely up to him.”
“You know that isn’t true!” He sneered, baring his teeth at me.
“Just like you know that is your problem not mine, and I will wait for you to sort it out. Now release my arm before I get upset.”
The look in his eyes was so heated, so furious. If they could, they’d burn a hole in my face.
“Last warning.”
When he released me I walked out the doors simply saying, “Exactly why my name is still Donatella Aviela Callahan.”
NINE
“I am not a saint, unless you think of a saint as a sinner who keeps on trying.”
~ Nelson Mandela
IVY
Coming out of the bathroom, I expected to see the maid who’d come to help me, but she was gone. Instead, Ethan stood in front of my bed, dressed only in silk black pajama bottoms, allowing me to see his bare chest, the perfect definition of…well, fucking gorgeous. Every single inch of him was toned and smooth as if he were carved out of marble just for me to gawk at.
Walking to him, I sighed. “I thought we had said everything that needed to be said—”
“Ivy.” He placed his finger on my lip. “Stop fighting.”
That single touch paralyzed me…I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to move. My mouth parted and my body leaned in as one of his strong hands cupped my ass, the other my breast.
“Say it,” he whispered before biting the top of my ear.
I knew what he wanted me to say, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Instead, I reached out, touching his chest, which felt so cold under my fingertips and yet made me feel so hot at the same time. He kissed down my neck, his tongue hot as he licked my skin, his hand squeezing me…we just met. We shouldn’t…but goddamn it I wanted it so badly. I needed it badly.
“Please…” I swarmed in his arms, the aching between my thighs the only thing driving my mind at the point.
/>
“Say it,” he demanded again, lifting his head up, his lips just hovering over mine. “The moment you say it…you can have everything.”
“I…” Before I could get the words out he was gone.
“Ma’am?”
“Ma’am?”
Eyes now open, I stared up at the face of an older woman, maybe in her late thirties or early forties, with brown eyes staring back down at me.
“Good morning, ma’am.” She smiled kindly, moving back as I sat up, running my hands through my hair.
It took me less than a second to remember where I was. It wasn’t hard as the room I sat in most definitely wasn’t a jail cell.
“There is mass this morning, and normally the family skips breakfast, but I was told to give you something light, to last until afterward,” she said, placing the tray on top of the bed over my legs.
I glanced down at the bowl of fruits, crackers, water, and orange juice she prepared for me.
“If you don’t like it I can have the kitchen prepare something else.”
My mind was a little stunned. This was how they started the day? Breakfast in bed? It was so vastly different from my own life that I was too stunned to do or say anything.
“Ma’am?”
“It’s fine…ugh…thanks,” I muttered, reaching for the water instead of the juice.
She nodded her head, walking to the front of the bed where she lifted two outfits. The first was a gray cap-sleeved dress with a sweetheart neckline and a wool burgundy coat. The second was a burgundy laced dress with long elbow-length sleeves and wool gray coat. Both of them screamed elegance. However, I preferred being a little more covered up…maybe that would keep me from dry humping anything within sight seeing as how I couldn’t keep my mind out of the damn gutter.
“The red one,” I said, stuffing a few crackers into my mouth.
“And your shoes?” She lifted up three different pairs already at the front of the bed. For a second I wondered what the hell I had taken that she was able to prepare all of this while I slept less than a few inches away. I was a light sleeper…or at least I thought I was.