“This isn’t from me,” I said, watching as she drank the soup right out of the bowl. “It’s from Dona. I’ve told you, I’m not romantic.”
She paused, the bowl stopping right at her lips. “Donatella sent me breakfast in bed?”
“Yes,” I said, lifting the tea bag out of her cup, “drink it, apparently it's a better alternative to the pills.”
“Says Dona?”
“Says the nurse Dona hired for you,” I said, taking the bowl from her hand and giving her the cup of tea instead. She took it but didn’t drink it. “I know you don’t like medicine, but at the very least—”
“It’s not that,” she interrupted, making a face I couldn’t read. “First, you should be in bed, you were shot and almost died. Second, why is your sister giving me herbal tea and breakfast in bed…and a damn nurse?”
I sighed, shifting back to lean on the bedpost opposite her.
“First, I’ve had worse. Second, because she’s…Dona.” I snickered, making her frown more.
“Can I get a cheat sheet or instruction manual for your family?” she asked.
I thought of the simplest way to explain this to her, but I wasn’t used to explaining anything to anyone for any reason. I simply did what I wanted, and everything fell into place soon or later. However, with her it was different… I wanted to walk through everything, step by step. I wanted to show her there was a method to the madness that was this family, even if it often didn’t look like from the outside. But doing so dragged her further into the madness along with us.
“You’re staring and not talking again,” she said ironically as she stared back.
I glanced down at her food and the cup in her hand. “Let’s compromise, you eat everything and listen to your nurse, and I’ll explain what is happening, as well as answer any questions you might have.”
“Deal. Win-win for me.” She grinned, leaning back against her pillow and sipping from her cup. “Go on.”
She’s crazy.
“While we were in Boston, Donatella ran things here in Chicago—”
“Drug things,” she interrupted, leaning forward eagerly.
I paused… In our family we made a rule to never speak of the business so blatantly, especially with people not part of the business. But as I looked at her, I remembered once again… I make the rules and break them at my own leisure.
“Yes,” I answered blatantly in return, “Drug and family things. She figured out that the Mexican cartels are trying to cut us out of product and sell on their own. Savino Moretti, Klarissa’s father, as well Tobias Valentino, one of my former men—”
“And Donatella’s lover,” once more she cut in, opening the yogurt in her hands.
I clenched my jaw, not wanting to even think of my sister like that, so I went on. “One of my former men, made a deal with the cartels for power on the southern drug trades. However, knowing I wouldn’t simply roll over, they decided to attack my family. They were the ones selling the bad drugs to the Finnegan brothers—”
“But you knew that before you went there and used it as a way to get Wyatt back,” she replied, excited as she stuffed another spoonful in her mouth.
“Ivy, would you like to tell the story?”
With the spoon still her mouth, she shook her head but smiled. “Sorry, go ahead.”
“They didn’t know I knew. They thought I’d be distracted and tried to further cripple my family’s influence back here in Chicago. After my mother’s death, the Irish and the Italians haven’t been…very close. They liked, trusted, and respect my father enough, and in honor of my mother, never stepped out of line. But when he passed and I took over, they were unsure of me…even more so now that I married you, a woman one hundred percent Irish-American.”
“I think my great-great-great grandmother was Scottish, though.”
The woman really can’t help herself, I thought, ignoring her comment. “They managed to spread a few rumors, and on top of that framed an Irish boy for the death of Italian boy.” Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but I gave her a look telling her that if she cut me off again I wasn’t going to move on. Frowning, she stuffed a spoonful of yogurt into her mouth. “However, before the Italian boy was murdered, Donatella apparently made a big show of things. She managed to figure out something was off…” I still didn’t know how. My best guess was Tobias must have slipped up, let his guard down somehow.
“And then she herself killed Savino as well Tobias at the airport,” Ivy spoke again, and when I simply stared back at her, no longer speaking, she frowned so hard it looked like her lip was trying to escape off her face. “You weren’t saying anything; I was just trying push the conversation along before you disappeared to the dark corners of your mind again.”
“It’s called thinking.”
“You think too much,” she muttered, leaning forward to stick a few grapes into my mouth. “It can’t be healthy.”
“It’s kept me alive this long,” I replied before chewing.
“So, what’s happening today?”
Today was Dona’s victory party. “Dona is hosting what she claims is Wyatt's welcome home brunch. However, that’s just a cover which serves multiple purposes. The first is to show all of us she succeeded in not only keeping peace in Chicago, but gained the respect of both the Irish and the Italians families. The second and most important purpose is to show the world we, the Callahans, are not only united and unbreakable, but also both Irish and Italian…hence her choice of attire,” I said nodding over to the clothes which were displayed just at the corner of our bed. “Each one of us dressed in some color of either the Irish or Italian flags.”
Myself in grey and Ivy in red.
“United, unbreakable, both Irish and Italian,” she whispered to herself. “She’s warning them…basically saying don’t fuck with the Callahan family—”
“Us,” I cut her off, just as she had done me. And when her eyes met mine, I reminded her. “You are Ivy Callahan.”
My wife.
“Don’t fuck with us.” She smiled, but it was only for an instant, before she looked back to the clothes.
“I know you’re tired but—”
“I'm not tired,” she said quickly, finally looking away from the clothes to me. “Your sister scares me a little.”
“That’s the reaction most people have when they get to know her. She prefers it that way.”
“This will sound awful and selfish,” she said slowly, and I nodded for her to continue. “After hearing about your mother from you and others and then getting her letter, I was a little relieved she wasn't here because I knew she'd think I wasn't good enough, and be the type of monster-in-law you see in movies."
It was a selfish thing to say, but I didn't fault her for her honesty. I didn't really think I could fault her for anything today.
Bloody shite… I sound like my father.
“But,” she went on, “after yesterday, I'm sure your mother would have been easier to deal with.”
No, she wouldn't have been. “Why do you think so?”
She sat up straighter on the bed as she spoke, “Yesterday, the look in her eyes… I didn't get it then, but it hit me just now. She killed her lover… She did it without hesitation, without shedding a single tear. She did it…because she is used to sacrificing for this family. It's second nature to her…so when I tried to step in front her, she put me in place… She was telling me I hadn't sacrificed enough, I hadn't suffered enough to stand in front of her and demand anything. I feel like I have to prove myself to her, get her respect…me, of all people! And I generally don’t give a shit about what other people think of me; isn't that scary?”
“Terrifying.” I smirked, watching as she went back to eating happily, but not telling her the real reason Dona was terrifying… How this celebration wasn’t just a warning to outsiders but to the rest of the family as well.
Today we’d wear what she wanted us to wear.
Eat what she wanted us to eat.
&nb
sp; Say what she wanted us to say.
Because her message was clear… In an instant, if she wanted to, she could destroy us all.
If she tried to fight for the control, I’d kill her. It would shatter me; I’d hate myself, I’d hate everything and everyone and she’d haunt me to the grave, but at the end of the day I’d still kill her. At the airport, just in case, I’d had sniper waiting… I had forced myself to prepare to for the slim chance she wasn’t rational anymore. That she didn’t see the big picture and that she would force me to kill her. And had I done it, Wyatt…if he didn’t try to kill me in return…might have lost his mind… The whole family would have fallen faster than a stack of cards built on strings.
Growing up, I saw the family business like a chess match, and when Donatella came back from boarding school, I knew right then… If she couldn’t play the game, she’d take the players as hostages…take me as her hostage.
I ruled this family, this city, with a gun to my head.
She couldn’t shoot because we were family, and she loved this family…but her hunger for power wouldn’t let her put down the gun either…I couldn’t make her…not without…without chopping off her damn hand.
So she and I were at an impasse.
“Why are you smiling?” Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed together as she tried to read my expression, even though I hadn’t even realized I was smiling until she pointed it out.
“My greatest enemy…is my greatest weapon.”
“Huh?”
I shook my head, closing my eyes, resting against the bedpost… Donatella’s ambition, her desire to rule, forced her to protect the family. There was no point making her drop the gun, I was more than satisfied being her hostage. After all, I was only a hostage when no one else was around… When someone came close, she was my own personal body guard.
And now she knew it, too…
If she took over the family, she’d destroy it, and if she destroyed it, how she could rule it?
It’s why she punched me. Why she was so upset…she knew she couldn’t win.
But it wasn’t a draw. I wasn’t satisfied with sharing victory.
Wyatt and Dona had fallen perfectly into place. That was my doing.
Checkmate.
SEVEN
“She’s an old soul
whose heart speaks
an all but forgotten language.”
~ J.M. Storm
HELEN
“Show me a strong woman and I’ll show you the scars on her soul that made her so,” I whispered to myself, peeking through the dark violet blinds of my bedroom window. I stared down at the horde of people, young and old, who now covered the lawn behind the mansion, and out of them all, Dona stuck out like an orange in a field of apples, which wasn’t anything new.
In fact, none of this was new; parties like this were commonplace. However, it was the first time that neither my mother, Cora, nor my grandmother, Evelyn, were the ones organizing it. Dona had everything planned and set up to perfection…and she was radiant as she greeted people as they arrived, dressed in a beautiful, fitted orange cocktail dress, her black hair pulled back into a French braid.
“They even have the kids kissing the ring now,” Darcy snickered, coming over to me with a drink in his brown hand, using his free one to open the curtains further. He was dressed in a burgundy jacket and ripped jeans.
“Dona will have you kissing the grass soon if she sees you only wearing the jacket she sent you,” I snapped, looking him over.
He rolled his eyes. “How do you know she sent me the jacket?”
“Because I’ve seen those jeans enough times to know I hate them passionately. Dad gave you that watch and mom, the shirt…like a year ago.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know clothes have expiration dates on them,” he mocked me before lifting the glass to his lips. However, I took it right out of his hands. “Helen—”
“Go change into the clothes she gave you,” I said seriously.
Annoyed, he glanced over to me, cracking his jaw to the side. “Helen, I’m not a child! However, I am starting to get really fucking annoyed with having to put my life on hold for this family—”
“Your family,” I corrected him, staring directly into his hazel eyes as they glared into mine.
Standing up to his full height, which was much more than a few inches taller than me, he said, “You don’t need to remind me. I know who my family is!”
“Then you should have worn the damn clothes!”
“AH JESUS!” he groaned. “They are just clothes, Helen! If Dona or Ethan or Wyatt tells me to shit in the corner, are you going to walk me to the fucking corner? Are we their family or their slaves!”
Without hesitation, I punched him right in the gut and instinctually he bent over, his hands going to his stomach.
“U—!”
I wrapped my arms around him, hugging tightly. “Darcy, I’m not trying to pick a fight; I’m trying to keep you safe, stop making that harder for me, please.”
He froze for a moment, not really sure what to do. Letting go of him, I backed up and flicked his forehead.
“Ouch! Stop hitting me!” he snapped, backing further out of my hands. “Right now, I need someone to keep me safe from you. Christ, what’s up with you today?”
“Did you hear about what happened while Dona was running Chicago?”
He nodded, still rubbing his stomach. “A little - something about Boston and Ethan getting hurt or something.”
“Dona almost killed Ethan.” It wasn’t lie… It wasn’t the whole truth, either.
Again, he paused, his lips a hard line as he stared at me. “What do you mean? She wouldn’t—”
“Not because she doesn’t want to,” I admitted. “She realized if she killed Ethan she’d start a war and end up killing this whole family. No matter how badly she wants to be in control, she still loves this family…but one day she could stop caring. She’s a ticking time bomb and today is only adding more pressure.”
“What?” he asked, and I nodded back to the scene outside my window. He stepped forward again, moving the curtains aside to see. “She’s the center of attention—”
“Wait for it.” I told him. And we didn’t have to wait long.
Everyone stopped, everyone looked away from her, everyone’s smiles and greetings turned directly to Ethan, who walked out dressed in a fitted grey suit, Ivy on his arm dressed in a beautiful red dress. Both of them looked as if they had walked off the stage at New York Fashion Week: beautiful, strong…and in love, like they hadn’t been through hell. Ivy never let go of Ethan’s arm, even as others came up to them. Ethan even grinned as if the party was for him.
It was. He had won, like always.
“Just like that,” I said softly, my eyes shifting to Donatella, who stood by, smiling as her brother and sister-in-law made their way towards her, even though I could see her doing her best to fight her true feelings. “The ring is no longer on Dona’s hand. She’s just reverted back to sister of Ethan again. Everything she’s done, everything she will do… The credit will always be given to Ethan. She’s knows that, but on the same day she’s reminded of it, do you annoy her further by not listening to her? It’s not just clothes, it’s respect. She asked you to wear something, you wear it because you respect her. Give that to her before she lets her rage out on you.”
He rolled his eyes and nodded without saying a word and turned to leave… He made it a few feet before rushing back and punching me right in the side.
“Ugh…” I bit my teeth together while he just grinned.
“I was just treating you equal to any other guy.” He grinned from ear to ear and when he did, he looked so much like dad.
“You little shite…” I kicked off my heels but stopped when he opened the door, nearly colliding into Wyatt.
“Well, if it isn’t the little shite that cost me ten grand,” Wyatt snapped at Darcy, locking him under his armpit. “You lost to the Wizards? The fucking Wizards? Who tak
es a three pointer with thirty seconds on the shot clock, and two guards on him?”
“You only bet ten grand on me?” Darcy tried elbowing him to get free. “Since when did you become a such a cheapskate!”
Wyatt let him go, eyeing him down with a deep scowl on his face. “I earned that ten grand on my own—”
“Yeah, yeah… Sure. Fine, Doc, why don’t we go to the courts right now—”
“How about you both get downstairs? We’re late,” I jumped in, and they both looked at me in surprise, as if they had forgotten I’d been standing right there.
Walking over to Wyatt, I gave him a one arm hug, swallowing the lump in my throat and smiling as I said, “Welcome back.”
He hugged back, sighing in relief, “Finally, someone in this family welcomes me back normally; I was about to lose all hope!”
“Shouldn’t have left in the first place. Who has a mid-life crisis in their early twenties?” Darcy muttered as headed back to his room.
Wyatt let go of me, turning to yell, “People who are prone to dying early!”
I tried to make my escape, walking forward without either of them when Wyatt walked over, putting his hands my shoulders.
“Are you gonna be my wing-woman, dear ol’ cousin?” He beamed.
“To what end? Bringing them or keeping them away?” Rolling my eyes, I tried to lift his hands off my shoulder but he kept them on me.
He brought his face close to mine and looked like a child on Christmas morning as he replied, “Both?”
“I’m going to need a whore swatter,” I muttered to myself, pushing him away for real this time and walking on my own.
“Helen, I’m shocked,” he gasped dramatically, “Just because a woman enjoys to get—”
“Not them,” I said, getting on the elevator turning back to him to say, “You.”
He just grinned, getting in the elevator beside me, fixing his tie and standing straighter when the doors closed.
“To the mouth of hell we go,” he whispered, all traces of humor gone from his voice.
He was only at the mouth, and here I was, swimming in the stomach of it.