Ruthless People (6 page)

“But?” I coughed.

“But behind Liam’s façade, he craves to be loved, and he hates to be alone.” He frowned,
hating that he had to admit the truth, and that was the truth. “He is not focused
as he should be and is too compassionate sometimes. I blame his mother for that.”

“And compassion is only for the family,” I said.

He nodded. “He is merciless in many ways. But to be the
Ceann na Conairte
, you must not show mercy to anyone but your family. You are cold. You are distant.
You enjoy the blood, the death. Liam kills, but he does not relish in it as he should.
If he did, the Valero would fear him as they fear you, or should I say, the woman
now acting as you.”

“I must ask you for something, Sedric,” I added, wishing more than anything to never
have to speak the words that were about to break free from my lips.

“Whatever it is, say it, and I will have it done,” he said, only making the ache in
my heart burn more.

Swallowing my pride I nodded. “I wish for you to walk Mel down the aisle.”

There was a pause, and he searched my eyes. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. My
bambina dolce
⁵
deserved to walk down the aisle and be proud. She would argue about how proud she
was of me already. How she didn’t care that I would cough throughout the ceremony,
or that I needed to be pushed down the aisle, or the fact that more people would be
focused on me rather than her. But I cared, and I did not want that. If I went and
our enemies saw how weak I was, they would try to use that against her, against her
empire.

“I will call Evelyn, and she will have everything ready in three days. You can watch
from a secret room. No one will see you,” he said with a grateful nod. Offering any
more than that, and he might as well carve out my heart.

“Do you not feel like we are Pandora just as she is about to open her box?” I grinned
at him. “They will bring chaos like we never could, and we did it simply with the
hope of bettering them for the future.”

Sedric chortled before finishing off his brandy. “Yes, in a twisted sort of way.”

“We do live in a twisted world,” I replied as the door opened to reveal Adriana once
again.

“Yes?”

“Mr. Giovanni, Mr. Callahan. I am sorry to intrude, but I was told to come get you
both,” she said with her head down.

“Why is that?” Sedric asked with a coldness in his voice that he hadn’t had since
our conversation started.

“The Boss and Mr. Callahan apparently cleared the room in the basement so they could
be alone and no one was to enter. But, a few minutes later, a gun went off.”

FIVE

“It’s a pity you didn’t know
when you started your game of murder,
that I was playing, too.”

~ Robb White

MELODY

Who in the fuck is asking to die?

I glared toward the back of the room, searching for the
face behind the voice that had dared interrupt me.

My blood boiled.

Liam, soon-to-be-fucking-dead, Callahan was walking down the stairs—
my
fucking stairs—with his sex hair high and his green eyes sharper than razor blades.
He was beautiful, and I almost regretted the fact that I would have to put a bullet
in his head and then smash it through a fucking wall.

“So, this is the man behind the bitch?” Ryan laughed.

Before I could even stop myself, I brought the butt of my gun across his face and
did not stop smashing it until I heard a sick pop. I beat him into unconsciousness
and left him slumped in his chair, his eyes swollen shut.

Wiping the blood from my face, I took a deep breath and held the gun up for Monte
before I turned back to face the fuckable idiot.

“You overstep, Callahan.”

He looked me up and down with both disgust and lust. “Do I? I believe you’re mistaken,
love. After all, I just signed a very powerful document making all of this mine.”

“Did your father pay for your Dartmouth diploma? Because you don’t seem to be good
at reading.” I glared at him, trying not to let the thick waves of lust that radiated
off him bother me. “That paper says you work
with
me after our marriage, Callahan, and we are not married yet so you’re still a fucking
guest in
my
fucking house.”

He smirked and it was sexy, dangerously so, and I wanted to kill him for it. “Be a
good fiancée and tell your pets to leave, or I will put them down, sweetheart.” His
green eyes assessed at me as though I was his shiny new toy.

Do not kill. Do not kill. Melody, stay calm and do not kill him.

I wasn’t going to lose my cool in front of my men. Glancing across the room, each
of them stood with their hands tensed at their sides, waiting for me to give the word.
Just a tip of my head would signal them to put as many fucking bullets as possible
into the motherfucker in front of me.

“Monte, Fedel, take Mr. Ross and wake him up. If he doesn’t cooperate, please show
him the live feed we have of his brother, whom he also failed to hide, and the bomb
in his house.” I never broke eye contact with Liam. “The rest of you, leave.”

I could hear their feet as they followed my orders and ran like roaches in the daylight.
The only men who didn’t move were the two I recognized as Liam’s brother and cousin.

“That applies to you two as well.”

They grinned and looked to Liam.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “They stay here.”

Taking a step forward, I stopped when he was a little more than an inch away from
me. I could feel his breath on the tip of my nose, and smiled sweetly.

“Only if they’re in body bags,” I said, stepping around Liam and scowling at the two
men who had yet to leave. “You have two seconds.”

They shifted their eyes toward the man standing behind me once more before heading
toward the door. The moment it shut, I spun around, fist flying toward his head. It
met his palm.

Grabbing my fist, he flung me into the chair Ryan had occupied. He cupped my cheek
with one hand, and with the other, he held both my wrists tight.

“First, your joke?” he said, panting in my face like a lion eager for the chance to
jump his prey. “Not funny.”

“Second.” He brushed his thumb over my lips. “The moment the ink touched that fucking
paper, you were mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to fucking command, and mine to put in your
fucking place.”

“Third.” He kissed me brutally before pulling away. “All this is over. You sit at
my side and you stay beautiful, like a lady.”

I stared at him wide-eyed. “Is that all, master?”

He grinned, but before he could speak again, I pulled my head back and smashed it
against his fucking nose. His head went back and his grip on me loosened. I brought
my knees back just far enough to kick in him in the crotch, causing him to release
me completely.

“You fucking—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish speaking before sideswiping
his legs out from under him. With my now-ruined white Gucci heels on his neck, I glared
down at him.

“First,” I said, pressing into his neck, “get used to this position, because you’re
my bitch, not the other way around.”

“Second, do not ever put your fucking lips on me without my permission!”

He twisted my foot and brought me down to the ground, pinning me there with the weight
of his body, before I could get to my third point

Fury burned in his eyes as he breathed roughly through his nose. “My mother told me
never to hit a woman, but you are pushing my limits.”

“Funny, my father told me the same thing. Would you like me to apologize?” I pushed
my thumbs to his eyes, forcing his hands to let go of my throat.

We fought and struggled on the ground like savage animals before he picked me up and
threw me into the nearest wall. I grabbed a chair and smashed it against his side.
It went on and on, each of us trying our best to kill the other without actually killing
each other.

When I landed a kick to his side, he fucking grabbed me like a ragdoll and flung me
across the room. It was nothing. Instead of letting myself feel the pain, I jumped
back up. My heels were now long gone, and the dress I had changed into just to meet
him was torn up the sides. His suit jacket had been lost in the heat of the battle,
his shirt was ripped, and his tie was barely hanging around his neck. His hair was
even more disheveled, and eyes were wilder than the fucking jungle.

When my fist collided with his cheek, he drew his gun and aimed it directly at my
face. He stalled when he got a good look at me. Panting like the beast he was, the
lust in his eyes returned in full force.

Without a second thought, he pushed me up against the wall before attacking me with
kisses. His mouth was everywhere, from my neck down to the front of my chest, back
to the sides of my face, before it met mine again. He gripped my ass with one hand
and my breast with the other, the one that still held his gun. I felt his hard-on
pushing against my waist, trying its best to find its way inside me. His actions were
barbaric, almost animalistic, like a man dying of thirst, and the only source of water
was my skin.

I loved every moment of it.

But I would not let him win. I would not bow down to him. Not today. Not tomorrow.
Not ever.

He was so busy trying to figure out how to get the zipper of my dress down that taking
the gun from him was like taking candy from a baby. Frantically rubbing himself against
me even harder, closer, he almost just let me have the firearm.

With one great push, I forced his body to separate from mine, which surprisingly missed
his warmth already. He stared at me with desperation. I pointed the gun and pulled
the trigger, causing his leg to buckle. He started in shock as the bullet went through
his thigh, then roared in pain as he fell down on one knee.

That’s right, hail to the Boss.

“Third, if you ever interrupt me again, Liam Alec Callahan, may God have mercy on
your soul when I send you meet to him.” I kissed him on the cheek and removing the
clip from the gun, along with the bullet in the chamber, before walking toward the
door.

When I opened it, my men were there with guns drawn on Declan and Neal, who mirrored
their poses. It explained why neither of them had come in. They couldn’t check the
door without putting their backs to the enemy.

My men all looked me up and down with proud grins on their faces.

“What would you like us to do with them, ma’am?” one of them, Antonio Franco, asked,
grinning wider than the rest of them. Antonio hated the Callahans as much as Fedel
did. He wasn’t as close to me as Monte or Fedel, but he was as loyal as they come.
He and his father had worked for Orlando long before I took over. Getting him to fall
in line had meant getting the older ones—the ones who were still bitter that I, a
female, and a young one at that, was now Boss—to fall in line.

I turned to my family-in-law and smiled before reaching out to shake their hands.
“I apologize for not being properly introduced. As you know, I’m Melody Nicci Giovanni,
but you may call me Mel.”

They didn’t shake back. Instead they glared, their guns still raised.

“Oh, right, your brother.” I pretended to forget. “He is a little beat up and will
need a doctor. But don’t worry—the shot was clean through and through. He’ll be walking
in a few hours. You may check on him, and I will have Adriana show you to your rooms.”

I nodded to my men, directing them to drop their weapons—they frowned but complied—before
following me toward the elevator. It opened to reveal not only my father, but also
the eldest Mr. Callahan. Making me realize, once again, the Callahans were blessed
with almost a little too much pretty for my liking.

My father looked me up and down before shaking his head and sighing while Sedric just
stared with no expression on his face.

“Did my son do this to you?” he asked, looking at my slightly bruised arms and legs,
cut lips, and messed up hair.

“It was a small disagreement.” I smiled. “And I shot him for it. If he weren’t my
future husband, it would have been worse. I do hope we can be introduced properly
later, Mr. Callahan, as I find your past work fascinating.”

And with that I stepped into the elevator as it reopened. It was only when the doors
were closing that I saw Liam’s brother and cousin rush back into the room to collect
him. I withheld my laughter.

“I’m shocked you didn’t shoot him in the kneecap for that shit, ma’am,” Antonio said
as we made our way up.

I smiled. “How would I look with a handicapped husband, Antonio?”

The moment we reached the top floor, I headed straight into my room. I had it conjoined
with my father’s once he became worse. I almost sighed at the feeling of the soft
carpet on my bare feet. This room, my room, was my sanctuary. The day I took over,
I had it remodeled to a more eighteenth-century Roman décor—paintings included.

Changing into a white and gold bathing suit, I headed toward the swimming pool. I
felt dirty and downright tired, but the last thing I wanted was for the bruises on
my skin to linger more than a few hours. The way to avoid that was to take a swim
in ice water. It would sting at first, but a few hours later my skin, and my mind,
would be good as new—clear. God knew it was fucked up now.