Ruthless People (4 page)

Monte placed the phone on Bluetooth.

“Make my motherfucking day,” I said, breaking the speed limit as I turned the corner.

“With pleasure, ma’am,” Fedel replied. “Ryan Ross, Amory Valero’s right-hand man,
fucked up big and drove drunk. Guess who picked him up?”

“Fedel . . .” I said, my tone laced with anger. He knew better than to ever play guess-who
with me.

“As luck would have it, Brooks was the one who pulled him over and brought him to
us. He’s waiting in the room under the house, so drugged up he can’t see straight . . .
but he’s still not talking.”

“Goodbye, Fedel,” I said as Monte ended the call.

“Motherfucking day made, ma’am?”

I just nodded, driving closer and closer to my future husband, my empire, and some
new intel. “Yes, Monte, motherfucking day made.”

THREE

“Murder is born of love,
and love attains the greatest intensity in murder.”

~
Octave Mirbeau

LIAM

“Someone is just a tad bit presumptuous.” Declan snickered into phone. “She’s already
packed, Liam.”

And sure enough, when my car pulled up to the Italian-styled mansion, I watched as
some of Giovanni’s men placed suitcases, what I figured were Melody’s things, into
a white suburban near the far side of the house. When they noticed us, they finished
as fast they could and disappeared behind the tree sculptures that lined the back.
They were all the size of Neal and I couldn’t help wonder how they would fit in with
our people. This would be the biggest merger the mafia world had ever seen. The Irish
and the Italian were like the English and the French—we had been fighting for generations.

“She is just like the rest of them,” I said into the Bluetooth. “In love with Daddy’s
credit card. But from the looks of it, she is no worse than Coraline.”

“Or your mother,” Declan said as the cars came to a stop. He couldn’t deny his wife
was a savage when it came to spending money. She held onto her plastic card with the
Jaws of Life
, and Declan, being the whipped bastard he was, couldn’t bring himself to stop her.
It would have been great if she actually spent the money on herself or the family,
but no, she had to sprinkle it throughout the whole city, drawing unneeded attention
at times. Neal’s wife, Olivia, was the complete opposite. She would walk right past
a starving child and buy herself another pair of shoes. I, just like the rest of them,
would have to allow Melody to shop herself crazy as long as I got what I needed.

Hanging up, I tried to resist the urge to grin like a fool. Just from getting out
of my Audi, I could feel the tides turn in my favor.

“Liam,” my father said, stepping in line beside me. “You take the lead on this. I’ll
not interfere with whatever happens from this moment on. If you do this, you will
have successfully cleared all obstacles in our way, and I will allow you to take my
place as
Ceann na Conairte
. However, until that contract is signed, they are still the enemy. Should you fail,
seek comfort in your mother, for you won’t find any in me.”

I wouldn’t fucking think of it,
I thought bitterly. Outwardly, I nodded and put my business face on.

Declan and Neal mimicked my expression. We had talked about the different scenarios
this could come down to and were prepared for them all. Neal had four of his snipers
outside, and Declan had jammed all frequencies that were not our own. We also had
a car positioned less than a block away with men just waiting for the chance to clip
the Giovannis’ wings. They were the enemy until the contract declared otherwise. I
was more than ready to get the papers signed and continue my blood ascension to
Ceann na Conairte
.

“Incoming,” Neal declared from my left, just as the doors to the mansion opened, revealing
an older, jaded-looking man with a scar that ran from his forehead to his chin.

“Welcome, Callahans, to the Giovanni Villa. Mr. Giovanni is already waiting and told
me to skip the formalities for the time being. I shall escort you to his office.”
The older man bowed as though he had come out of
Downton
fucking
Abbey
. I knew Declan would have a laugh about that later, but for now, we were working.

I nodded, not wanting to waste time with formalities either. We all knew why we were
here, and there was no need to bullshit. Usually, my father walked ahead of us, but
since I was point man today, I followed the old man inside first. The house was beautiful,
rich, and very fucking Italian with vintage ceramic tiles, one too many statues, and
the overwhelming scent of roses. It felt more like a museum to ancient Rome than a
home.

Finally, the old man stopped and didn’t bother to knock before opening a door for
us. Stepping in, for the first time in my twenty-seven years I was shocked. It didn’t
show on my face, but internally, I was shocked.

“If it isn’t my favorite Irish crime family,” Orlando said, coughing and in a wheelchair.
The man known as “Iron Hands” was gone. The Giovanni study was filled with ancient
scrolls, floor-to-ceiling walls of books, with the exception of one large window,
and nineteenth-century handcrafted furniture. However, nothing in here was more priceless
than the sight of this old crippled man.

His hairless face broke out into a smirk. “Sedric, you trained them well. They didn’t
even flinch.”

“I am insulted you are just figuring this out now,” my father said and with just a
sidelong glance I could tell what he was thinking. He was as shocked as we were. He
just hid it well.

In the mafia world, Orlando “Iron Hands” Giovanni was the stuff of legends. The things
he had done could not be said out loud without making many people sick, or causing
them to piss themselves in fear. He was one of the very few men my father respected,
and in some way, dreaded. They both had a healthy fear of each other, but the man
in front of me now looked like he hadn’t been in the same room with “Iron Hands” for
years.

This explained why he wanted this merger finalized,
I thought.

“Please, have a seat. The contract is on the desk,” he said to us.

I knew my family wouldn’t make a move. Only the
Ceann na Conairte
was able to sit down with the enemy, so I unbuttoned my jacket as the rest of them
flanked the sides of my chair.

“We’ve already read the contract. We simply wish to see your daughter sign it,” I
told him. In fact, I had read it so many damn times, I knew it line by fucking line.

“Read it again, she has already signed,” he said through a barking cough.

Tempted to lose my cool, I glared at Declan, telling him with my eyes to read it.
He could read just as fast as I could, and I did not want Orlando see me bend to his
games. I would play nice for now, but I was not above beating a man in a wheelchair.

“Liam,” Declan snapped, handing me back the paper.

It took me a moment to read over the two lines that had been changed.

“You’re kidding.” I snickered, handing it up to Neal and my father. “You are asking
that she basically babysit how I run my company?”

Orlando’s brown eyes narrowed. The fact that he no longer had eyebrows only made him
look more ill.

“We prefer the term
empire
,” he stated.

“Of course you do.”
Fucking Italians and their empires.
“Orlando—and I will call you
Orlando
, not out of disrespect, but because I know that by the end of tonight I will have
a ring on your daughter’s finger—your daughter will want for nothing. She will be
able to buy the sun twice over if she wanted. She will be taken care of and treated
like every other Callahan woman, which is like bloody royalty. In my care, your
empire
will be treated with the same care and reverence.”

Orlando leered before crossing his weak arms. “Pretty words, boy. And I will call
you
boy
because even if you were royalty, you would still never be good enough for my daughter.
I did not ask her to babysit you. Melody is smart and will be more than useful. I
have no doubt that the empire will be just fine. As your brother saw when he hacked
our records.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Declan stiffen beside me. No one ever knew he hacked
into their files. It was then that I realized we had been set up. Orlando wanted us
to see how much we would lose if we didn’t give in.

“Orlando—”

“Don’t try to sweet-talk me. I’m Italian, we wrote the book on it. So take the deal
or walk away. That’s my only offer. And in case you hadn’t noticed, I don’t have time
to waste.”

The old motherfucker cut me off.

I slid my left hand down and felt the brass knuckles in the pocket of my pants. I
wanted bash his face in. The vein at the side of my neck pulsed thickly, as it always
did when I became bloodthirsty. My vision began to cloud over with rage. I knew, without
a doubt, my father was waiting to see what I would do. Whatever choice I made, he
would back me up here and bitch at me at home. I would not let anyone show me up,
much less an old-timer halfway to his grave already. Not here, not now, and not ever.
The room was silent as I stood up, walked over to his stocked bar, and poured myself
a glass of brandy. He wanted to play hardball? So could I.

“How much does she even know about the company, excuse me, I mean the
empire,
as you people call it?” I asked him as I poured.

“Enough.”

Leering, I turned back to him. “Enough? That’s all you can give me? Orlando, meet
me halfway here. You and I both know she may be smart, but no father would ever allow
his little princess to see the things we see, or do the things we do.”

“She’s a quick learner. Considering the women you’ve been with, is that not enough?”
He had a point.

Turning to my brother, I drank some more before leaning on Orlando’s desk. It would
be mine soon enough.

“Neal, dear brother, what do you think?” I asked, taking Orlando’s the pen and point
it at him.

“As long as she fulfills her other duties, why not? Anything she doesn’t know, you
can teach her. It may help bind you both together.” I almost wanted to applaud him.
I laughed at the thought.

Sometimes, Neal was just so wise.

“And Declan, dear cousin, what do you think about this rude, last-minute shift in
the contract?”

Declan grinned. “Worse comes to worse, you have to waste five minutes explaining things
to her. Plus, I kind of like the idea. Maybe if the women knew how hard it was to
make a few million, they wouldn’t spend it so quickly.”

We all laughed and turned to Orlando who smirked at me with those damn chapped lips
of his. I wasn’t sure if it was because he agreed or because all the cancer drugs
were messing with his brain. Orlando Giovanni was harder to read than most.

“Well then, Orlando, I do believe I’ll be marrying your daughter,” I said with no
emotion in my voice. Declan handed me the contract again.

Before the pen touched the paper, I stared at the meticulous script that spelled out
Melody Nicci Giovanni.

I wanted to see her first, but I signed anyway. My father had always told me to pick
my battles so that I could have energy to survive the war. There was too much riding
on this for me to refuse just because I would have to get an okay from a little princess.
Besides we were married, I would keep her too busy to care.

“You aren’t going to seek counsel from your father?” Orlando asked as I signed away
my soul.

“His bride, his choice,” my father said, speaking for the first time, and with just
as much emotion as I had. None.

“My choice it is,” I repeated, handing the sickly man, my future father-in-law, the
papers. We shook hands, and I tried to force myself not to snap his in half. “I would
like to see whom I have chosen.”

“But of course,” he said, ringing a bell that echoed throughout the room. Finishing
the last of his horrible brandy, I waited.

When the door opened, I felt my cock try to detach itself. The girl who walked in
was an ugly duckling with thick and messy dark brown hair, dark glasses, and goddamn
braces.

Fuck it all to the seven levels of hell!
my mind screamed.

“Just think, underground heroin fields. When would you like that plastic surgeon’s
number?” Neal murmured beside me. I could hear the laughter being held back in his
voice. He cared about those damn underground heroin fields so much, you would think
he did fucking heroin himself.

“Ms. Bianchi, where is my daughter?” Orlando asked, and my blood pressure dropped
while my cock rose in hope. I could have sworn I heard the old man snicker.

“Closest fucking call of your life,” Declan uttered, as we waited for the ugly duckling’s
reply. The timid girl glanced at us, but did not answer. Instead, she kept her eyes
glued to the floor. If she didn’t speak up soon, I would twist her ugly little head
off.

“It’s fine, Adriana. The man before you is Melody’s fiancé. You may speak freely,”
Orlando told her while I was losing my goddamn patience.

Bowing at us first, she rose and gave me her full attention, standing with so much
pride it almost distracted from her appearance . . . almost.