Ruthless People (7 page)

I could still feel his hands all over me, demanding and possessive. His lips as they
bit into my neck, my ear, and at last my lips. He wasn’t just a good kisser, he was
a sensual kisser. He wanted to make sure, with just one kiss, that I was wet for him
and willing to give in. Had I been anyone else, it would have worked.

There was no doubt in my mind that he knew what to do and how to do it. He was a force,
and I wouldn’t have minded,
if
he hadn’t come into my house and tried to make me into his little Stepford wife.

In the pool, I shivered, but I needed to try to escape him. I couldn’t, though. He
was there pushing his way to the front of my mind. I hated him. I loathed him. I lusted
after him, and it made me angry with myself. Even in the cold water, as I swam I felt
him pressing against me. I felt the electricity of his hands, his sensual tongue.
I couldn’t deny that I wanted him.

I would have to figure out how to have him and, at the same time, make him understand
that I was not surrendering to his will. Not even close. It was my choice. It was
going to be animalistic and wild and a way for me to wind down.

When I finally came back up for air, there he was, the object of all my anger, rage,
and lust sitting poolside in a fresh suit with a bandage over his leg—a leg that was
resting on
my
pool chair. Rising out of the water, I reached for my towel while his eyes raked
over my body.

“See something you like?” I asked, squeezing the cold water from my hair.

He frowned. “Sadly, yes, but it’s an illusion. The moment you get close, it turns
into a ruthless savage and shoots you in the thigh with your own gun.”

“If I turned into a ruthless savage, it was only because another ruthless savage stepped
into my arena. If you came for an apology, look elsewhere. Now, get the fuck up,”
I said.

Glaring, he got up. The moment I sat down, he grabbed my hand and I saw in his eyes
that he felt whatever spark it was that coursed through us. He leaned in, catching
my gaze in his own. He stopped just inches from my face before I heard a click near
my wrist. Looking down, I saw that he had handcuffed my wrist and my ankle to the
chair.

“After that display earlier, I believe you need a time out.” He chuckled, kissing
my forehead like I was some pet or child. “You were swimming so long you missed dinner,
so I did you a favor and brought you some.” He pointed to the dish that was only attainable
with my free hand. “I will come to get you in the morning.”

“What makes you think I can’t pick a lock you son of a bitch?” I sneered, pulling
on the damn handcuffs.

“I filled the locks with cement. You can’t pick it love, believe me, I’ve used them
before,” he said, brushing the side of my face. “If you ever hold a weapon to me again,
Melody, I will handcuff you fucking upside down and underwater.”

He kissed me again, this time on the mouth, and with my free hand, I slapped him across
the fucking face. His head snapped to the side before he turned back to me and winked.
Smug, sexy bastard. With his free hand, he slid an obnoxiously large diamond engagement
ring onto my finger. He let go and grabbed a few more towels, dropped them over me,
and walked toward the exit.

“Say you’re sorry and I will free you now, love, and then we can start anew.”

He was trying to break me, the fucker.

“Fuck you and the Audi you drove up in.”

Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair before shaking his head. “We will talk
later, then. Eat. I wouldn’t want to bring you home to my mother sick. I will make
sure the room stays warm. I sent everyone else to bed for the night. Goodnight, wife.”

“Fuck you, fiancé,” I said, leaning back in the chair.

I was fine until he turned off the lights and shut the door. He didn’t know. No one
knew except for my father. I had an irrational fear of the dark. Even though there
was still the dimmest light from the pool illuminating the small area, I could still
feel the fear creeping up my spine.

There was no way in hell I was spending the night here. Sighing, I tried to calm myself
before pulling the chair and myself to the edge of the water before jumping in.

I was going to get out of this tonight, even if I had to break my hand to do so. Hopefully,
the chair would break against the walls first.

Either way, he would not win.

SIX

“Murderers are not monsters,
they’re men.
And that’s the most frightening thing about them.”

~ Alice Sebold

LIAM

“Have I taught you nothing?” my father asked, his voice a pitch above a whisper as
I read the files on the desk before me.

“No father, actually, you have taught me quite a lot,” I replied before I took another
drink of Orlando’s horrible brandy. “Why do you ask?”

“Do not be coy with me boy. What happened between you and Melody today was unacceptable.
You beat your wife—”

“She is not my wife yet,” I said, smashing my hand against the oak desk and rising
from the chair. “This woman, this Melody Giovanni, is insane, borderline demented,
and she took a swing at me. It escalated, and then she . . . she shot me through the
fucking leg!”

Sedric glared, his eyes blazing as he stepped forward. “As she should have. You had
no right to interrupt her. If the tables were reversed, what would you have done?”

I would have killed the person slowly.

“You cannot possibly be on her side. You should be on my side.” I almost wanted to
laugh at the thought. “Imagine if it had been Mom, or Coraline, or Olivia. What would
you have said to them if you saw them act as Melody did?”

“What are you? Four? I am on the side of the family, as you should be. It was not
your mother, or Coraline, or Olivia. It was Melody. Melody, who will become your wife
in less than seventy-two hours. Make peace with her.”

Seventy-two hours? “Why in the hell are we getting married in three days?”

“So you don’t kill each other before the week is out. The press has been notified,
and by morning, the world will know. Every gossip column, every news outlet, and every
damn mafia member in the world will know the Giovannis and the Callahans are one.
This means you two will have to pretend so fucking well, you fool yourselves that
this isn’t just some arranged marriage, or so help me God, I will set you both on
fire.” The fact that my father, Sedric Callahan, had just raised his voice and cursed
in the same breath was proof enough he was serious. He had set a man on fire before . . .
two actually.

Taking a seat once again, I turned and stared at the roaring fire that lit Orlando’s
office. This day had not gone how I planned, and while my bones were aching for sleep,
my mind could not stop racing.

“Son, do I approve of what Melody does? No. I do not, and that is because of the simple
fact that I was raised differently. And by a man much more controlling than myself.
The strongest survive, however, and the key to survival is to evolve with your environment.
We have made so many strides. No longer are we just uneducated thugs with guns. We
have evolved, the mafia has evolved, and now it’s your turn. Melody Giovanni is your
evolution, embrace it and make peace.”

It was only when the door shut after him that I allowed myself to relax. I filled
my mouth with the horrible brown liquid in my hands, but even that didn’t help my
mind drift from the beautiful, dark-eyed woman who was to become my wife.

Our moment in the basement made my blood boil and other parts of me ache. She did
not fight like a woman, but like a trained man, and the way she had looked—like a
lioness about to rip apart her prey—made me want her even more. I almost had her on
that damn wall, and she had wanted it. I had felt her nipples respond to me as they
pressed against my chest through the thin material of her dress. Her eyes were begging,
and her lips had parted for me as she held back moans of pleasure. Even her olive
skin warmed beneath my hands. I would have taken her against that wall many times
over and given her the pleasure we both hungered for, but instead, the wench shot
me. She fucking shot me.

I’d been so shocked and horny that my mind couldn’t even comprehend what had happened.
My thigh was burning like fire when she kissed my cheek and walked away. With that
one shot, she had proven that breaking her was not possible. She would never convert
to what I needed her to be. She was a ruthless savage, and if you cannot break a ruthless
savage, you need to figure out how to tame them.

I needed to make Melody understand that she was not above me. That she did not give
the orders. That she did not move mountains or cause tornados to rip through the sky.

I did.

I had worked too long and too hard to let anyone stop me, least of all her. I would
have rather died than give up my fucking claim to this family. When I found out what
my father did for a living, I saw how people created paths for him as he walked in
crowded buildings. I watched as governors, senators, bankers, and fucking judges alike
kissed his feet. I knew what I wanted to do. Some people, like Neal and Declan, were
simply born into the family, but I knew I was born to
rule
the mafia. It was beyond my fucking calling, it was in my blood. It was what pushed
me daily, and the only person who ever stood in the way of that was my father.

I should have taken over on my twenty-first birthday. I looked forward to that day,
but not so I could drink legally—I had been drinking since I was fifteen—but because
I had wanted to hear him say it. I had wanted to hear my father tell the world that
I was to take over the company, but instead, all he did was give me an island and
pat me on the back. His explanation was that
it is not the time
. He was the damn
Ceann na Conairte
. He made the fucking time, and the rest of us followed it. Melody was eighteen and
legal at that point, so it wasn’t as though he was waiting for her. But each year
after that, I waited, killing anyone who dared to get in my way, and now to have to
deal with my wife-to-be? It was fucking bullshit, and I never saw it coming.

“Today has been interesting, dear cousin,” Declan stated, walking in and heading straight
to the bar. Forget crack, we Callahans were addicted to brandy and drank it like it
was water.

“
Interesting
does not even begin to cover what happened today,” I said. “My fiancée shot me with
my own gun.”

Declan grinned, the little fucker, before taking a seat on the couch. “How did she
manage to disarm the greatness that is Liam Callahan? I have seen you draw, load,
and shoot your gun in three seconds flat.”

I frowned, knowing that he knew and simply wanted to hear me say it. Sometimes I wished
he would go fuck himself.

“She looks like a sweet little lamb from afar, but when you get close, you find out
she skinned and ate the damn thing just to use it as a coat. She’s a beast.” I glared
at the fire, remembering similar flames in her eyes as she shot me. It was like she
had figured out how to make hell reflect in her gaze.

“I like lamb,” Declan said.

“Shut up, you dick.” I threw my glass at his head, but he dodged it, allowing it to
shatter against the wall.

He only laughed. “Does this pent up frustration I feel radiating off you have anything
to do with the fact that you want her so badly? That’s how she got the gun. You were
feeling her up and—”

“And she took it from me and shot me like a dog. Yes, cousin, that’s how it happened.”
I did not want him thinking about her firm ass in my hand or the bullet hole, which
was now in my leg.

“And yet, you still want her, you sick fuck.” He drank. “I don’t blame you, though,
she is—”

“Finish that sentence and it will be your last one. Cousin or not.” Already I was
reaching for my loaded gun.

Raising his hands, glass still in his left, he nodded with a grin. “You are possessive.
I wonder what your future wife thinks about that.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck what she thinks about it, and what would Coraline have
to say about your words over Melody?” I asked, knowing full well how pussy whipped
he was.

“She would be pissed off, so much so that I hope she shoots me in the thigh. We’ve
never had that kind of foreplay before.”

I cringed at the thought of it. “And I’m the sick fucker?”

“No more than you,” he replied, stretching. “Where is the queen anyway? She wasn’t
at lunch or dinner. I think I’ve seen everyone but her since then.”

Walking over to the bar, I grabbed another glass.

“Oh, sweet Mary, mother of shit, what did you do?” Declan asked, rising from the chair.

“My mother would have your tongue for speaking like that,” I replied, knocking back
a glass before pouring another.

“Not before taking yours for what happened today. I should have known you would retaliate.”

Rolling my eyes at him, I walked over to the desk and gathered my files. “I handcuffed
her to one of the chairs in the pool house and left her some dinner. I’ll get her
in the morning.”

“You can’t be serious, Liam,” he said, causing me to turn to him. He should have known
better than to doubt me.