She was right. If it was quality cocaine, then dropping the temperature would cause it to become moist, chunky, and lose its strength.
“Sedric, I’m sure you saw?” she said into the phone before going quiet. “All right, Liam and I will watch from here.”
Adriana handed me a tablet with a live feed of inside the factory. I watched as my father strode in with Declan beside him. It looked as though they were alone, but we all knew better. Roy and his men couldn’t see the guns above them.
“Mr. Callahan, I’m happy you chose a place without pens,” Roy said to Declan. He didn’t smile, instead walked over to one of the fish, pulled a knife and stabbed it, ripping open its skin. Packages of white powder spilled out.
“Pens?” I asked.
“Brother and sister bonding.” She smiled, watching the screen carefully.
My father tasted a bit off of his finger before looking to Declan. Their faces were cold, blank…evil.
Declan glanced over all the fish. “Where did you get this, Roy?”
“Looks like it’s real.” If it wasn’t, I’m sure Declan would have been gutting him.
“I respect eh, Callahans, in fact, I’m scared of eh, however, I can’t give up my people. You can understand that, right?”
“No,” he replied.
“Sedric,” Mel stated, still on the phone, “accept it and make sure he sells it off. If he does, we will let his supplier slip for now.”
She glanced at me and I nodded, turning off the feed. “Have a sample brought to us.”
She repeated it to my father before hanging up.
“Eight million worth of coke easily turns on the street. He could cheat us,” I told her.
“He could and then we’ll staple pens into his arm. For now, we go home and deal with the politicians.”
“Great. Dinner with more people trying to steal my hard earned money.”
MELODY
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I screamed into the mirror of my closet, causing Liam to walk in like an erotic angel from hell. He wore his white pants, shirt and blazer flawlessly, while I, on the other hand, was ready to flip out.
“What’s wrong?” he asked stupidly, pulling a loose thread from his blazer.
“‘What’s wrong?’” I repeated, nostrils flaring, “What is fucking wrong, is THIS!”
I turned around to show him the zipper that had broken less than halfway up my back. I had never, ever in my life not been able to wear any of my clothes!
He laughed. The Irish asshole just laughed.
“This is not funny!” I cursed him, wiggling in the dress, hoping by some miracle the zipper would repair itself and go all the way up.
Walking up behind me, he grabbed hold of my hips and pulled me towards him. Meeting my gaze in the mirror, that grin was still spread across his face.
“Seeing you—my wife of all people—freak out over clothes is the funniest thing I’ve seen this week.”
“Then you need to get out more,” I snapped, glaring at the stupid white dress clinging to my body. “And for the record, I am not freaking out. I shouldn’t be battling with my clothing for at least another two to three weeks.”
“And you got those statistics how?”
I didn’t answer.
“Have you been reading baby books without me?”
“No!” I said a little too quickly, causing his left eyebrow to raise. “I Googled it.” I pulled away, as I stripped off the stupid dress with the stupid zipper. I was going to personally call Giorgio Armani later.
His eyes scanned over my body and I hated how sexy he looked right now. It wasn’t helping me at all. What made it worse was the fact that I could see his erection as clear as day, pressing against his pants.
“Liam, no! We have God only knows how many people in our house right now and I need a dress. We are not having sex in my closet.”
Stalking towards me, he just grinned. I took a step back until I was pressed up against my Jimmy Choos. He went straight for my neck, pressing his body against mine. He squeezed my breast with one hand while his other hand grabbed at my ass.
“Liam, you’re going to ruin your clothes.” It was all I could think to utter.
“Good, then we can both go naked,” he whispered into my ear, as he gripped onto thighs and lifted me up with ease. “Now stop fighting me and scream my name.”
I was going to give in. I didn’t even want to fight him. Damn him.
“Ma’am, I was able—” Adriana froze mid step with a new dress in her hands.
Thank Jesus.
“Leave it, Adriana and go away,” Liam snapped, not bothering to look at her.
“No,” I said, doing my best to wiggle free of his hands. “I need to get ready. Go cool off on the balcony, I’ll be out in a moment.”
He stared at me for a few seconds. Rage, lust, and disappointment were all brewing in his eyes. Lowering me to the ground, he snapped towards Adriana who just waited, head held high and posture strong.
“Next time, knock,” he hissed at her before walking out.
“Don’t mind him, you have another dress?” I asked.
Nodding, she handed me the bag. “Yes, it’s floor length, capped sleeves and draped to keep your baby bump discrete.”
“I got it, you may go get ready,” I told her. It was simple enough and I wanted a moment to myself.
When she left, I hung the dress on the door, and I turned to the side to stare at my stomach again. It was only going to get larger, the kid was only going to get bigger.
Sighing, I went to get dressed, not really caring about my hair or makeup. I just wanted this over with so I could sleep. I was exhausted.
Stepping into my red heels, I took a deep breath, and cracked my neck before walking out. Liam stood, waiting on the balcony as I had asked, staring at the people in the gardens below. I could hear their cackling laughs, fake compliments and the snapping of cameras.
Placing my hand onto his back, I leaned on the rail next to him.
“They all love her.” He frowned, looking down at Mrs. Monroe as people gathered to shake her hand and take her photo as if she were already the president. “We need something, anything to knock her down or we will lose, and I can’t wait another four years.”
“When was the last time we lost anything, Liam?” I asked. He smirked, turning towards me. Taking a step back, he looked me over. “You’re beautiful.”
“I know. Now, let’s make nice with the government before they try to pin us for tax evasion.”
He laughed, kissing the back of my hand. “I’d like to see them try.”
TWENTY-TWO
“Political language…is designed to make lies sound truthful, murder respectable, and to give an appearance of solidity to pure wind.”
—George Orwell
MELODY
“It’s as if time had stopped. The earth underneath my feet opened, and the devil himself reached up and pulled me into hell. I screamed, trying to reach for my husband in the midst of the chaos. I wanted to die, because I knew in my heart of hearts that he was gone. There was no undoing what I had seen—what America had seen! Only moments earlier, we sat in the back of the limo and my husband, President Franklin Monroe, told me how humbled he was to be a servant of this government, of you, the people. He told me his dreams for this country. Being from Texas, where everything is big, his dreams were even bigger. That is why I cannot stop to cry, to mourn, because all I can do is try to honor his dream until my last breath leaves my body.”