“Neal—”
He pulled back so I could stare into his eyes “No. Listen to me Olivia. Just because I am firstborn does not give me any right to be Ceann na Conairte. I don’t want to be Ceann na Conairte. Melody and Liam were born on the dark side of the moon. They enjoy this life. They watch people burn in their beds. When they aren’t doing that, they are making sure needles stay in people’s arms and coke in their noses. That is all they do all the time. It’s what you do when you’re the Ceann na Conairte. I watched our father go half-mad because of what he was forced to do. I’ve watched my mother dip herself in cement just so she could stand beside him and not break. She wasn’t always so tough. This life changes us. It forces us to become cold-blooded and not to care for anyone but the family. I handle being a sidekick, because I don’t want to walk so deeply in the dark. I do not want us to walk so deeply in the dark.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” I hissed, breaking out of his hands. “Bow down to them as though they are King and Queen.”
He looked at the clothes on the ground and then at me. “You have three options—bow, hide, or die, Olivia. So yes, you will bow down and kiss the ring like we all do. You will jump when they ask, come when they call, and anything else. Or, you can be packed by the time I get back.”
He walked past me and toward the door before turning again. “I knew when you married me that you loved the idea of power just as much as you did me. I knew you wanted all the things that came with being a Callahan. I’ve tried to give it all to you, but you need to understand Olivia, you are not the queen, you are the princess. You will always be the princess. You may wear a tiara, but it will never be as big or as shiny as Melody’s. Hopefully you love me enough to be just Princess.”
“Neal—” He slammed the door.
“I do love you,” I whispered to myself. Falling to my knees, I gathered my things and put them back into the closet.
Tracing my tattoo on my wrist, I sighed. He was right. I did love the idea of power when we got married. I was so excited to be marrying a Callahan, and Neal Callahan at that. I thought all my pain would go away. But in the back of my mind, I could still hear his voice sometimes. He was like this never-ending part of me that wouldn’t go away. No matter how many times I tried to wash him off me, he was still there. I married Neal for a lot of reasons. First because I really did love him, and second, because I knew he wouldn’t dare come after me as a Callahan. I thought I could have it all—the fame, the husband, and the protection. Neal thought it was his fault we couldn’t have children, but the truth was it was mine. It was because of what that monster and his friends did to me. They broke me.
Even after all this time, I still couldn’t speak about it. I felt disgusted with myself, and at first I thought Neal would be, too. I knew better now. I knew he loved me, which is why I knew he would hunt him down. I just didn’t know if I was ready to face that darkness yet. Melody had taken the seat I wanted, but I had Neal. I still hated her, but I had Neal and I wasn’t ready to lose him yet either. So I would bow and kiss the fucking ring.
TWENTY-SIX
“Truth will come to sight;
murder cannot be hid long.”
~ William Shakespeare
MELODY
“I hate you,” I hissed again as I ate my French toast.
Liam rolled his eyes, flipping the files in front of him. “We’re in public, sweetheart.”
“They can all fuck themselves with these dull knives for all I bloody care.” I looked around his favorite restaurant to find at least ten pairs of eyes staring at us as if we were some kind of movie stars. Well, we were some kind of stars, but it was still annoying as fuck.
“Careful, they may stop seeing you as America’s darling.” He smirked, drinking his coffee in disdain. I knew he would prefer brandy and right now, so would I.
“They can have their fake darling back after we dump Amory and Saige’s bodies in one of the Great Lakes,” I said in Irish.
“Patience, love.”
Gripping the knife in my hands, I felt my nostrils flare. “To hell with patience. It’s been four months since their wedding. Since then, they have burned half our fields in Mexico, killed seven of our men in Italy, and cut off thirty percent of our weed from the east. Which you should know costs us about a hundred million every week. I want their heads on a stake, and I want it fucking yesterday. But somehow, you fucking convinced me to wait. So fuck you and fuck them and fuck this goddamn hat I have to fucking wear!”
I wanted to take off the giant yellow sun hat and throw it at him, but that would bring too much attention to myself. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I tried to breathe. The past four months had been an all-out war. The Valero were coming at us with everything they had. We expected as much. However, with the cops now watching us more than ever, our actions were limited. The Valero were most likely behind that as well, but right now, I was ready to bomb the police station, kill the Valero, and move on. But instead, I was in a stupid five star restaurant, waiting on the motherfucking real housewives of Chicago for some charity shit.
“First, that is a lot of fucks. Second, your hat is nice.” He smirked as I glared. “And we will find an opening soon. However, right now the plan we came up with last night is the one we’re sticking with.”
“I was high off sex and couldn’t think straight,” I snapped, drinking the sorry excuse for tea they offered me.
“But that is where all our master plans are created.”
“Really? Isn’t that where you came up with the plan to pump more heroin into Boston? Now the mayor is involved.”
He leaned back in his chair with no care in the world. “That’s only because his idiot daughter went and overdosed. He’s busy blaming dealers as if we held the needle to her arm. His bad parenting is apparently our fault. Mayor or no mayor, it was a good idea. The demand is growing.”
“Liam.” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “We keep going like this, we are going to be stretched too thin. We can’t fight Chicago and Boston with Valero still screwing us. The mayor is going to be doubling down his efforts to trace it.”
“Fine,” he hissed, leaning in. “We stay neutral for now. We have a shipment coming in tonight that I will redirect and hold. But the moment the Valero are out of the picture, we are pushing hard.”
“Deal. In the meantime, we can up the weed. The shit is almost legal anyway, and both coasts are addicted.” Weed was as good as gold now. We sold to medical pharmacies where it was legal, and small street gangs where it wasn’t.
“Then it’s settled . . .” He paused causing me to look over at the door where Commissioner Andrew fucking Patterson made his way toward us.
“Who do you call when it’s the police who are stalking you?” I sighed, looking over to Liam, who glared at the man approaching.
“Us.”
Commissioner Andrew fucking Patterson placed two sliver badges on the table, causing Liam and me to share a quick glance.
“Shiny.” Liam snickered, taking a sip of his coffee. “Is there a reason why you are putting that filth on my table?”
Patterson looked like he had aged at least ten years in the last four months. “The officers your men killed today were fresh out of the academy.”