“Pimp? Sure we can call it that, but that would make me doubt your intelligence because all you have to do is think of the prospects of being in this family…you’ll no longer be the help. You’ve done well for yourself, but at the end of the day, you are still the help. You’ve already seen us at our darkest and yet you’re still here. You know what we do, and best of all, you fear me. Which means that what happened to Neal’s last wife will not repeat itself.”
It was like watching a fish, the way her mouth opened and closed.
“I thought Avian killed her.”
“We lied. Neal killed her for betraying us. But you’re tough, aren’t you? You have a black belt in taekwondo and jiu jitsu.”
She didn’t speak as the wheels turned slowly in her head…too slow for my liking.
“Right now, this family is in chaos. My job is to make sure that everything is balanced and that our family skeletons stay in our closet. You are intelligent, beautiful, and a fighter. Neal will come to worship you. He’s the type of man that justifies his existence by those around him, and therefore tries his best to please. With a kid, and being the President’s right hand, we both know that men shy away from you. You intimidate them. You have no family other than your daughter, and you cling to both her and your job for dear life. I’m offering you a seat at the round table, Mina, the Callahan table, and we both know how powerful that seat is.”
“The public still doesn't know about Olivia,” she whispered as she brushed her hair back, and I could see her coming over to my side, she just needed a final push.
“Tonight, I will be releasing a list of undercover FBI agents. Olivia’s name will be one of them. She will have died in service to her country. It will not take any stretch of the imagination to understand how you and Neal had a friendship that blossomed into something more. In two or three years, you will be able to go public with your relationship.” I hated the fact that I was going to have to elevate Olivia to being a damn martyr, but again, I was more focused on the big picture. This way, the President would look good and remain on our side. I would just have to take satisfaction in knowing how she truly came to an end.
“What could Olivia have possibly been doing as an undercover FBI agent within one of America’s elite families?”
It was a good question.
“White collar criminals,” I answered. “Million dollar art scams and all that. It fits perfectly. It’s set up; all I need is your agreement.”
“I’m not Neal’s type.”
“Are you female?”
“Of course!”
“Then you're his type,” I replied, waiting.
She nodded. “Fine. Please just promise me that my daughter will be safe no matter what.”
“She’s now Ethan’s older cousin. I promise you that no harm will ever come to her. Now get out of my car.”
When she stepped out, Declan and the driver both stepped into their spots in the front.
“What was that about?” Declan shifted to look back at me.
I didn’t answer, I just kept checking the news reports on my phone, until I finally saw the breaking news that I was waiting for.
The Blue Garden Massacre.
“Liam and Neal are done with their lunch.” I told him.
THIRTY-ONE
“In a time of deceit, telling the truth is a revolutionary act.”
—George Orwell
MELODY
“Go to bed, love.”
Liam’s voice startled me. I jolted upright and drew my gun on him before he could come any closer.
He looked down at it, then at me. “Seriously?”
“Sorry,” I muttered. And as I pinched the bridge of my nose, I placed the gun down beside my mouse pad. I stretched, and all my bones cracked as if I had aged overnight.
Pulling a chair beside my desk, he sat beside me. “It’s 3:00 a.m., love, you need your rest, you can finish this later.”
“I want to finish it now,” I told him as I shifted in my seat again.
Glancing at Liam, I noticed that he was watching me intensely. I tried not to focus on the fact that he was wearing nothing but his pajama bottoms.
“What?”
He shook his head and kept on staring. “I’ve just been thinking a lot lately.”
“About our plan? Because it’s—”
“No. About you,” he stated as he leaned forward. His face was serious and he looked like he was trying to read to me.
“Okay…” I wasn’t sure where this was going. He usually gave me more to go on, but he seemed to be thinking it through as well.
“And how my father wanted me to marry you,” he added. “I keep thinking about how much I fought him on it. How much I didn’t want be with you. And yet, fast forward a few years and here I am, unable to imagine a world where you’re not in it. Knowing you was the best gift he ever gave me.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to him, I wasn’t good with words. Instead, I took his hands and kissed his knuckles.
“I’ll get us some coffee since you won’t come to bed.” He smiled as he rose from his chair.
I didn’t want him to think that I didn't care. Standing up, I followed behind him and wrapped my arms around his back as he entered the dark kitchen. As I kissed his spine, he tilted his head back.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Breaking out of my hands, he turned around and lifted me up.
“I know you do,” he muttered as he kissed my lips softly.
It would have been amazing had my bloody stomach not growled loudly.
He smiled into our kiss.
“Well, that’s not sexy,” I muttered.
“No, it’s cute. Come on,” he replied as he lowered me back onto my tip-toes and led me further into the kitchen.
He pulled out a frying pan and grabbed a few eggs out of the fridge.
“What are you doing?” I watched him as I leaned against the sink.
“Seeing that you’re the worst cook on the planet, I thought I’d make us a grilled egg and cheese,” he said matter-of-factly, as he grabbed the bread from the pantry.
“I can cook a grilled egg and cheese, Liam.” I crossed my arms glared at his back and he looked to me, amused.
“Really?”
I didn't like the surprise in his eyes. Stomping from the sink to the stove, I took the eggs and tried to crack them over the skillet. Sadly, the first one broke in my hand.
“Don’t you dare!” I snapped as he held back a snicker and handed me a paper towel. I cleaned off my hands.
“Try again,” he replied handing me another egg.
I didn't take it. “You should just do it—”
“Oh no you don’t, wife. You got yourself into this, and I’m not letting you out of it.” He stepped into my path.
“I could so take you.” I sized him up.
“And then you still wouldn't have your grilled egg and cheese.” He smiled as he held up the stupid egg. “Come on, I’ll help you.”
Rolling my eyes at him, I turned around as he came up behind me. He placed the egg in the clear bowl with the rest of them and handed me a knife. Without thinking, the very first thing I did was flip it around in my hand to size up the weight before adjusting my grip.