Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)(19)

I couldn’t help but wonder.

What the hell had I signed myself up for?

And what in the hell would I look like after this was over?





NARI


“Well?”

Sighing, I poured myself a glass of scotch.

“Nari.”

“She’s not Callahan material,” I told him truthfully, looking out at the city lights. “That said, she’s not a pushover and has no problem speaking her mind even if she’s a little scared. And even though she’s scared she’s determined to do whatever she needs to do. Will she be loyal after she gets what she wants? I honestly don’t know. But she isn’t like other women, in that she’s blinded by the money. I could tell she was pretty, which is proof that she’ll look gorgeous when I’m done with her.”

“I hardly care about that.”

“You’re lying,” I muttered, sipping the liquid slowly. “Whether you realize it or not. There is no man who doesn’t want a beautiful woman on their arm. Especially the one who will be theirs permanently.”

“Anything else worth noting?”

I glanced back at the room. “She’s…”

“Are you going to finish your sentence or should I wait with bated breath?”

I faced the city again, replying, “She has no idea who you are. She knows the Callahan name. I’m sure she has some idea about the family, but other than that, she doesn’t understand the severity of it all.”

“Then explain it to her. I don’t have time to baby her.”

“No, you don’t…but you’re going to have to find time for a lot of things because she’ll be your wife, and that means for the rest of her life people will be after her. We all know how lonely the mansion can be.”

“So nothing else worth noting. Good night.” He hung up.

Putting the phone down, I finished off my drink and put the glass down.

“Ma’am?”

I turned around to see the hairstylist. “You’re done?”

“As much as I could do for the night. She demanded to sleep. She’s in pain,” he said.

“Fine. Leave.”

Nodding, he called the rest of them out of the room.

I waited for them all to leave before walking into her room. She lay on the bed, curled up in a ball, dressed in only her robe.

“Not bad,” I said as her legs were now smooth, along with her toes and fingernails. The mask on her face made it hard for me to see how her skin was there, but I was sure it would be better. Her hair was up in rollers.

“I was waxed in places I didn’t know needed to be waxed,” she whispered, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re welcome,” I said back to her, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

Tilting her head, her blue eyes, which looked so much more striking without her cat hair on her face, focused on me.

“So if I went to this Ethan the way I came here he’d think I was ugly.”

“He wouldn’t think of you at all,” I replied honestly. “For some reason women these days want men to love them the way they are naturally…while the thought is nice, in reality it means love me even if I put in no effort. Why? If you put no effort into taking care of yourself, even your own body rejects you and breaks down, so why demand that on another human being? Getting dolled up, as you put it, is only seen as negative by people who for whatever reason are unable to do so themselves. We judge books by covers. We judge restaurants and hotels by the décor. We judge. Accept it and make sure you are judged by the worth you believe you are.”

Sighing, she sat up, crossing her legs. “And by marrying him I’m worth a lot.”

“Today we spent almost a million on you.”

“What?” Her eyes went wide.

I nodded. “That million is like a penny dropped in the family vault…I only told you so you’d know that yes, you’re worth a lot.”

“I’ve hated your family for a long time.” She hung her head down. “I cursed you all every day of my life. I grew up with people who cursed you all. The Callahans, the Irish thieves, murderers…”

“Mobsters.” I finished for her.

“So it’s true.” She shook her head. “So you guys really sell drugs?”

“I own hotels,” I repeated back instantly.

And she rolled her eyes. “Yea. Yea.”

I smiled. “You’re just like my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?”

I lifted my finger for her to see the ring on my hand.

“But your name is—”

“Ms. Callahan?” I answered, nodding. “Yes. I’m Nari Callahan, the adopted daughter of Neal Callahan, Ethan’s uncle. My mother married him when I was young. He legally made me his daughter. My mother, who was once so poor she and her brother fought over food, rose to be the wife of a Callahan, a position she was often scorned for, and I was often harassed, of course only behind our backs. None of them dared say it to our faces. I knew the moment I got old enough I was never giving up my name. It was the only link I had to this family. Of course, my grandmother and cousins would always love me. However, the moment I changed my name I’d be no one again. My husband understands.”