Текст книги "Ruthless People"

Автор книги: J. J. McAvoy

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 21 страниц)

I heard Neal hold back a cough.

Coraline grabbed on to my free arm, while Olivia just smiled, clearly finding no threat in me whatsoever. Just like the rest of them.

“Come, Melody, we will make sure the rest of the family doesn’t overwhelm you too much.” Evelyn smiled, leading me to the manor. It was the exact opposite of my home, sadly. Callahan Manor was a modern day fortress. Beyond the cream marble floors that stretched for as far as the eye could see, the double grand stair cases framed with black iron, and the engraved wooden French doors, there was nothing but forty-six thousand square feet of illegal activity. There were no statues, barely any plants, and only modern paintings. Everything was simple, crisp, and clean.

I wanted to puke. For eighty-five million, I expected more.

“I’m sorry.” I paused, her words only now catching up to me. “The rest of the family?”

“Liam wanted to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed by too many new faces at your wedding on Sunday. So he thought it would be best to have you meet everyone now.” Olivia smiled. They all smiled, as if they were talking about five or ten people.

But I knew the Callahan Clan considered between ninety to hundred people their family. My Italian line was mostly gone. I didn’t deal with that many people anywhere, with the exception of my men.

Turning around, Liam was grinning like a fucking cat with a ball of yarn, and I knew then that I should have killed him in my basement. He winked, and I was tempted to lose my cool, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

“If they are as welcoming I think, I can make it, but please don’t leave me completely alone. I really wouldn’t want to insult anyone.”

Coraline smiled. Again with the fucking smiles. “Mel, you are family. We wouldn’t throw you to the wolves without giving you a spear.”

Please give me a fucking spear. I knew whose heart I wanted to throw it through.

Allowing them to pull me away farther down the boring halls and out a set of large French doors, which opened to a large grass lawn, now covered in white tents. At least a hundred people sat drinking, laughing, and stuffing their faces with food. Music roared from an old Irish band staged by the trees, and when I said old, I meant old. With full-length white beards, they played their handcrafted instruments for the crowd.

For the love of God.

“Don’t be nervous,” Evelyn said. “You’re young and beautiful. They already love you. And those who don’t will have to because you are Liam’s.”

I’m my fucking own, I wanted to yell at her. And I wasn’t nervous. I was pissed. I wanted to play whack-a-mole with all these motherfuckers heads. But instead, I just smiled and walked outside.

“Everyone this is Melody, Liam’s fiancée!” Coraline yelled at the top of her lungs.

They all stopped their dancing, singing, and drinking, as if they wanted the world to know it wasn’t just a fucking Irish stereotype, to stare at me. Then they raised their mugs and screamed:

“Cheers!”

I don’t need this shit.

But I had a part to play so I grinned. “Sláinte!”

Everyone shouted with joy, and I was motherfucking-in with the Irish clan. At least the drunk ones with dicks. The girls would be harder. I could already tell from their glares. Maybe I could tell them they were pretty and try not hold their faces underwater.

“Hi, Melody!” A group of young kids ran up to me, speaking with strong Irish accents. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought they were drunk as well. But even the Irish couldn’t be that crazy.

Crouching down to them, I smiled. “Dia duit, mo pretties beag.”⁷

Their grins almost split their faces as they began to speak in full-on Irish. Liam must have followed me, because he was being congratulated by some other male drunks. He looked surprised that I knew Irish. But he was a chauvinistic pig, who thought all I did was paint my toenails and shop. Of course I spoke Irish. My father had me learn the moment the contract was formed.

As the children pulled me toward a corner of the massive garden, each dancing around me, I pretended not to notice the women glaring at me. I would speak with them later, but now I needed to make myself look like a fucking saint. I took my shoes off and danced along with the kids, singing their Irish songs and even spinning some of them around. It made even me laugh. Don’t get me wrong, I liked kids . . . kind of, sort of. I was just sure they were annoying as fuck if you spent too much time with them. But I needed them today, so I danced.

When I finally stopped, Coraline handed me glass of water. I wanted wine. My wine.

“They all love you.” Coraline grinned. “A few men even cursed Liam for finding you first.”

Just smile and drink Mel.

“Oh, we are going to have a garden party for you tomorrow, for all us girls.” Evelyn’s eyes shined with joy. “Everyone is dying to meet you.”

I would rather have everyone just dying.

“I can’t wait,” I said, but they didn’t even notice I was lying.

Glancing around, I realized then that all the Callahan men were gone.

“Where is Liam?” I was ready to break the glass in my hands.

Olivia and Coraline frowned, but Evelyn held her strong demeanor. She turned her back to the guests to stand in front me.

“Melody, do not worry. I know you are aware of what our men do. But believe that they are safe. They often use parties like this one to cover up something else. We try not to get involved and to know as little as possible. My son would never want to endanger your well-being.” Evelyn’s face became serious before relaxing into a carefree smile once again.

I nodded, trying my best to stay calm, but as my gaze landed on Fedel and Monte near the doors, looking scared for their lives, I knew that someone was going to die tonight.

“Excuse me.”

Fedel and Monte stiffened, waiting until I was before them to speak.

“Flight 735 just exploded over the Atlantic ocean. Death toll is one hundred ninety-two. Eighty-seven of them Valero who were smuggling drugs in the seats,” Fedel said.

The glass shattered in my hand, but I didn’t feel it. Even as the blood dripped from my fingers, I couldn’t feel it. Walking calmly into the house, I moved straight to the foyer. I had gotten blue prints to this whole place years ago and noticed there was space left out. It didn’t take genius to realize they were hiding something behind a fake wall, and that the rather larger Jackson Pollock hanging on the faux wall really had to be a door.

Bloody hand raised, I waited for Fedel to hand me a gun.

“We are outnumbered, ma’am,” he said instead, and I simply shifted my gaze to him. Today was not the fucking day.

Monte handed me the semi-automatic he always had strapped to his leg.

“Fedel, stay out here, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt,” I snapped before shooting right through the wall. Neither Monte nor I stopped, not even when the painting, tattered and unrecognizable, crumbled to ground. The wall blew apart bit by fucking bit until the door bounced open.

When it released, I stepped in. There stood the rats, all drawn and panicked with the news playing in the background. My eyes met Declan’s, who looked white as a sheet, then Neal, who was trying his best to stop the bleeding in his arm. Next was Sedric, who didn’t seem surprised it was me. In fact, he was the only one wearing a bullet-proof jacket underneath his suit. If he hadn’t been, the bullet hole in his tie would have killed him. The biggest rat of them all, who must have had a fucking guardian angel in his pocket because he was perfectly fine, was furious.

“Tell me it wasn’t fucking you, and you still get to come to the motherfucking wedding sweetheart,” I said still calm as ever, ready to start shooting again.

I should have worn the white heels.

EIGHT

“The facts of a person’s life will,

like murder, come out.”

~ Norman Sherry

LIAM

“Your fiancée is . . .” Neal stopped talking, taking her in through the window as she laughed and danced with the children. A part of me wanted to run over there and save their lives. The beautiful woman with the kind smile, laugh and blushing face was just an illusion. They were dancing with a fucking lion, a snake in the grass.

“She is a master of fucking disguise,” I hissed angrily. I would have enjoyed watching her dance and smile and sing off-key if I hadn’t known better. If there wasn’t a bullet hole in my fucking thigh, I would have been tempted to think myself lucky.

The woman before us now was the woman I was expecting, the one I wanted, and it pissed me off to no end, because she didn’t exist. This party was supposed to make her uncomfortable, but she was playing every last one of our family like fools.

“She has them all eating right out of her hands. She’s a master,” Neal said looking at her in wonder and awe.

“Neal, I will shoot you in front of Olivia and then give her the gun to shoot you again if you don’t stop staring at my fiancée like she is the fucking Virgin Mary.” I knocked back the brandy in my hand. I hated her for this. For, once again, making me realize she could play this game, the game of murder and lies, like a motherfucking pro.

“Don’t take your anger out on me. You’re the one who fucked it up. If you had just—”

“Shut the fuck up Neal, or I swear to God!” I gripped the glass in my hand so damn tight, it almost broke. “Go do your bloody job. I want that plane in ashes in three minutes.”

He didn’t say anything more, but left to meet with Declan along with the rest of our men while I watched my soon-to-be wife walk on fucking water.

The moment we had stepped out of the car, she had transformed into this delicate little bird. The Melody I met the day before, and the Mel she announced herself as to my mother, were two very different women. But she drew them in like moths to a flame. She was so fucking beautiful and nonthreatening when she met everyone, that for a split second I forgot.

Had she been this way when I first met her, I would have dazzled and charmed her while we were making love on my bed. I would have taken pleasure in making her whole body blush, keeping her safely tucked away.

If only my life was that fucking easy.

“Sir, we’re ready,” one of my men, Eric Reese, called from behind me. Eric wasn’t family, but pretty damn close. He was one of the few of my men with more than half a brain, and full loyalty. The rest were in this out of fear, or for the money.

Nodding, I walked through the door that lead to the secret office my father had built into the walls to make sure no one would “accidentally” find it. The room was filled with monitors and maps, all focused on where the inbound airplane would be.

“Are you sure you want to do this Liam?” my father asked as he stared at the dot indicating the plane’s current position. It would be crossing into American waters soon.

“It’s fucking brilliant,” Declan said, waiting excitedly. “The Valero will never see it coming.”

“I wish I could see Vance’s fucking face man.” Neal grinned. “This is going to set him back a fortune.”

Eric nodded. “You should send him a wedding invite, just to sweeten the pot, mate.”

They were all right, and yet my father still did not seem to approve. Well, fuck him then. Vance Valero had no idea anyone knew about his secret plane, and still allowed a few unlucky everyday folks board it. He must have figured no one would be ruthless enough to kill a few innocents to get to his men onboard. After today, though, it going to cause him regret. Not only would he lose men, but he would also lose half a million dollars in cocaine and heroin. That would be a bitch.

The moment I saw the plane appear on one of the video monitors I gave the go ahead. “Do it.”

Declan smirked, but before he could push the button, Neal beat him to it like they were fucking kids.

“I’m the fucking oldest, cousin,” he said, before grinning like a mad fool. A moment later, there was red, orange and yellow flames filling the sky. Metal ripped from metal, ashes fell into the sea and all I could do was revel in the greatness of it all.

Sitting back in the chair my father had once claimed, I allowed myself to dream of the future for one moment. The men in the room roared in victory over our accomplishment. The Valero had been fucked by me today. This, plus our wedding announcement, would make it clear that Liam Callahan had arrived, and I planned to make them eat shit for the rest of their lives. I would control the east and the west and, once that was done, all of fucking Europe. Who said you couldn’t have it all?

Even Melody, through all her bitching and shooting, had come in handy. Finding the flight plans was almost too easy. She had been keeping notes on it for months and never did anything. Some fucking Boss.

She could have cut Vance off at the knees, but instead, she did nothing just to save a few people’s lives. She didn’t understand. We ran the fucking Mafia, we spared no one, we took what we wanted, when we wanted it, and we killed to get the job done. All those people were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and I would make sure to have my mother . . . or maybe make Melody, open a charity in their names. Right now I—

Bullets exploded through one of the walls before I could even finish my thought. They pelted us like rain, destroying anything and everything in their way.

“Fuck!” Neal screamed in pain as blood poured from his arm.

“Open the fucking door and blow the motherfucker away!”

Declan froze just as a bullet went right past his head and embedded itself into the monitor behind him. My father fell back as a bullet connected with his chest and Eric held on to his wrist. The rest of the men in the room scrambled to follow orders but froze when the door opened.

“Tell me it wasn’t fucking you, and you still get to come to the motherfucking wedding, sweetheart,” Melody screeched, looking me dead in the eyes.

Kill her. Put a bullet through her pretty fucking head and toss her off a motherfucking bridge, my mind yelled as I glared down the barrel of my fiancée’s semi-automatic.

I tried to stay calm. I even prayed for the strength not to lose it, but all I could see was red. Glancing over to Eric, who stood closest to her, he took charge and put a gun to the side of her head, causing her to lower her gun.

“You little bitch, have you lost your fucking mind?”

“Carrot top,” she said, still staring into my eyes. “You better pull the trigger now. You will regret it if you don’t.”

He glanced at me, but in a split second, Melody swung around and used the butt of her gun to bash his face in, knocked him off his feet, and held her gun to his balls.

“I said you would regret it,” she hissed. She pulled back and hammered into his jewels with the butt of her gun.

My father frowned, stepping forward as I reached for my gun. There comes a time when enough was fucking enough. “Ms. Giovanni, I would ask that you not to kill anyone in my house.”

Monte, I believe the man’s name was, walked forward pointing his firearm at Eric as Melody turned to my father, gun held right at his face.

“Sedric, I like you. I really do,” she said with no emotion in her voice. “But step out of the way or I will kill you before I kill your son.”

“His mother is fond of him, and I am fond of his mother, Ms. Giovanni.” The motherfucker smiled, as though this bitch had not just insulted us, as if she hadn’t almost killed family. “Melody, I understand your anger, and you are justified in it—”

“The fuck she is!” I shouted, holding my gun up as well. Never in my life did I ever want to put someone down so fucking badly.

“Liam Callahan. For the next forty-eight hours I still rule. Stand down!” Once again, the blood in my veins was demanding blood to be spilled, and so I shot right past her head and at Monte’s arm.

Melody eyes glowed with rage, but before her bullet could hit me, my father went for her hand. He twisted her wrist and struggled with her until the gun was out of her grip and he had her arm behind her back.

“Melody, listen to me,” my father said while she snarled like a damn lion. “As the head of the Callahan family, I apologize for my son’s idiotic move today and the memories it must have recalled of the damage that was done to you. But, I need you to breathe and walk away from this now. Not as a woman, but as a Boss, to regroup and think. If you found this room, you must know where Liam’s is. He will be there momentarily, and you can speak Boss to Ceann na Conairte.”

When she nodded, he let her go, and she left with Monte, who held on to his arm, and Fedel, who hadn’t moved from the destroyed wall. When she was gone, my father didn’t even have to speak, he glared at our guys and they left faster than she had—leaving me with the man who had just spit all over my victory. Once again, all I could see was red, and for the first time in my twenty-four years of life, I wanted my father’s blood.

“You embarrassed me! This relationship, this marriage will not work. I will burn the fucking contract so I can put a bullet in her myself.”

He stepped forward, his eyes darker than a brewing storm. “You embarrassed yourself today. Did you not think that a woman, a Boss, like Melody, could have easily bombed the fucking plane? Yes, I knew where you got the intel from, you fucking idiot. I checked their files, too, while you were busy chaining your fiancée to a pool chair.”

“But she didn’t do it, probably because she was weak and didn’t want to kill innocents,” I snapped back, trying my best not to point a gun in his face.

He pointed at the crumbling wall, which now exposed us. “Did that look like weakness to you, or are you so blinded by the thought of power that you have forgotten everything I have taught you?”

I sighed deeply, dropping the gun on the table before I pulled the trigger. “Everything I did today, you would have done as well.”

“Yes, but I would have made sure it didn’t hurt my wife first. Congratulations, you have proven to Vance and his brothers that you are just as merciless as they are. You won the pride of your men, and you pulled off a job no one will tie to you,” he snapped angrily. “But if you had heeded my words and tried to make peace with Melody instead, you would have used your access to the Giovanni files and did your homework on what happened to Melody and her mother to bring you both together in the first place.”

I froze, not understanding what Aviela Giovanni had to do with this. She had died years ago.

“Think about it, then go back to her and grovel.” With those words, he left the room.

Taking a seat at one of the only computers not blown to the heavens, I pulled up the very files he was bitching about, and my blood froze.

MARCH 19: FLIGHT 307 CRASHES INTO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN; ONE SURVIVOR, SIX-YEAR-OLD MELODY NICCI GIOVANNI.

“Fuck,” I murmured to myself as I read the title, but it only got worse.

NOTES:

According to young Melody’s memory, there were four men on the plane who stood up mid-flight and started shooting and demanding Aviela Giovanni, wife to the Boss, to show herself. Mrs. Giovanni, with the help of her bodyguard, placed Melody into one of the overhead compartments right before they were both shot and killed. The men, who were later identified by the V tattoo on their arms, were Valero. After the death of Mrs. Giovanni, they proceeded to kill everyone on the plane. It was due to her tears and whimpering that the men found her. Landing the plane on the surface of the sea, they filled the chambers with smoke before dragging young Melody onto an awaiting boat.

Melody explained that, because she was praying, they decided they would let God decide her fate and threw her back into the ocean holding on to a piece of wreckage. As they drove away, they told her that if she survived to join the Valero when she was older.

The Boss found his daughter the next morning clinging on to one of the broken wings of the plane. The plane was torched beyond recognition, and the body of Mrs. Giovanni was never recovered.

Melody was alive, but suffered from hypothermia, and developed extreme Achluophobia, which she still has not recovered from. With therapy, it might lessen with time.

COVER-UP: PLANE CRASH DUE TO ENGINE FAILURE.

“Fuck.” I sighed running my hands through my hair. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Mother of fucking fuck.”

My mind was so messed up. I couldn’t think straight, all I could see was a younger version of my fiancée, clinging to a wing in the middle of the fucking Atlantic Ocean.

In the dark. Just how I fucking left her. “Fuck.”

My father was right. I truly needed to grovel, but even that wouldn’t change things. It wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would be enough, and I had nothing left to give.

I had no idea I was even moving until I found myself standing outside my bedroom, dreading the thought of going in. My bedroom was my sanctuary, and now, it was going to be place of my death. But, I needed to man up and deal with the consequences of my actions.

Inside, she stood at the foot of my bed, dressed in gray with a gun and a knife strapped to her thigh. She seemed to be taking it all in, from the dark reds and gold of my bed and walls, to the wooden floors, large windows, lion-skin rug, piano in the corner, and flat screen plastered on the wall. She turned around slowly, and I really wished I could hear her thoughts. It wasn’t a woman friendly room. However it was wasn’t meant to be.

“We had a machine onboard recording their conversations. It’s now somewhere in the ocean. A team and I will be getting it back,” she told me as she tried to leave the room, but I grabbed hold of her arm first.

“I can go,” I said as she glared up at me. “I should go because it’s my fault. I’m sorry. For everything, I . . .”

“Look who finally did a background check. If you want to come, I can’t stop you.” She ripped her arm from my grasp. “You are everything I thought you would be—a child in a grown man’s body. You’re brash and wild, and you don’t seem to get the gravity of our situation. You don’t impress me, Liam Callahan. So get that poor little girl out of your head, because I am not her.”

Closing the small space between us, I glared down into her brown eyes, wanting to rip them from her oval-shaped face.

“I am brash? I am wild? So says the woman who blasted her way into a private meeting nearly killing her future in-laws. You do not know me, Giovanni. Do not be fooled by my wit or charm. It has taken all my strength not to kill you.”

“What wit? What charm? You’re nothing but talk, and I do not need to know you, Callahan. I just need to marry you.” With that she held her head high and left.

I would not bow down. She would not bow down.

The gravity of our situation was starting to eat away at me. I needed this to work. The Irish needed this to fucking work. But how the hell was I going to handle a lifetime of her—a hot-blooded Italian Boss?

Step one, accept she was a damn boss.

Step two, hide all the knives, guns, and maybe the pillows, too.