Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(26)

“What do you need?”

“A flight,” I took a bite of an apple.

“Where to? Your vacation isn’t up for another week, ma’am.”

I thought about it and turned to face Ethan who was now watching me. I smiled. “Where is the best place to nurse a broken heart? I met the worst guy here. I’m not sure how I’ll recover.”

“I’m more worried for the guy if he is still alive,” he said under his breath.

“I’m sorry, Luca, what was that?” I asked sweetly into the phone.

“Nothing, ma’am. How about Bali?”

I grinned, chewing more of the apple. “Beautiful. Have everything ready for me. I have a few things to wrap up here, so I’ll leave tomorrow morning.”

“Ma’am, I was calling because I found the people you were looking for. Do you need someone else to take care of it—”

“No,” I frowned. “I’ll take care of it personally.”

“Yes ma’am, sending information now, enjoy your vacation,” he replied before I hung up. I checked the address he gave me, biting into the apple again.

Of all the places, I thought as I grabbed my skirt and his discarded shirt. Taking my purse and walking towards the bathroom, I could feel his eyes on mine, but he wasn’t the only one who knew how to be cold. He wasn’t the center of my world, and I wasn’t going to beg for his attention.





When I came out, he was dressed in jeans and a black button-up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He looked me over, noticing I had stolen his shirt. I pulled out my phone and moved to the door.

“The door, please,” I requested, waiting for him to open it but he didn’t.

“Who are these people you’re going to take care of?”

“None of your business.”

“On the contrary,” he said, coming up beside me. “You yourself said you killed cartel members just to get my attention. I’m still working on the chaos you unleashed—”

“As long as you have your money, the people are replaceable, aren’t they? Besides, new blood is better. It’s always good to clean house and start fresh,” I stated and then pointed at the door. “I promise this doesn’t have anything to do with you. It’s personal.”

A frown appeared on his lips. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

“Ethan, you’re the one who wanted me to leave and now you’re stopping me from doing so?”

“Who are these people?”

He was such a…blockhead sometimes.

Lifting my phone, I held it to the door. It took a few seconds, then the door beeped before sliding open. His eyebrow raised before his gaze fell to me.

“Have a nice day, Mr. Callahan, and thanks for the fuck. If you reconsider my offer let me know.” I offered him a handshake and he frowned like the Grinch. It was funny, but I didn’t let myself laugh. Instead I turned and walked up the stairs, and I heard him following close behind. When we reached the top level of the house, I smiled seeing the bullet holes in the couch.

“That really was a gift.” I felt his breath warm my neck as he spoke from behind me. “Given to my mother by my grandfather before he passed.”

“The bullet holes add character. You’re welcome.” He was so close I could feel his chest rise and fall at my back, but I ignored him and moved to leave. He followed me still. I sighed, turning back to him. “Would you like to give me a ride Ethan? After all you did kidnap me…again.”

He didn’t say anything, he just held the door to another room for me. Following him this time, the room led to a garage. There was only a black Maserati and a silver Ducati inside.

“I was trying not to draw attention today,” I told him.

“If you want to be a Callahan, you’ll need to get used to drawing attention.” He opened the door of the sleek black car for me. “The spotlight is sometimes the best place to handle people.”

I wanted to let him know why I didn’t want the attention, but I just let it go. He’d see soon enough.



ETHAN - AGE 23

Las Americas, Colombia

Monday, July 1st





I watched her give a wad of US hundred-dollar bills to the maid who, without even looking at her, handed her a hotel key. I had no idea why I was following her. It seems I said ‘I don’t know’ often when it came to this damn woman. Not only did I drive a fucking hour to get here, I had to do so as she blasted music and danced in front seat. Not once did she explain why she needed to come to this damn hotel or who she was meeting or why. Part of me really was expecting something related to my work…how fucking wrong I was. Outside of the cocaine on the table in the suite, this had nothing to do with work.

“Oh baby, are you ready to be punished—AH! Get the fuck out!” A Latino woman was dressed in leather dominatrix lingerie with a whip in her hands. Her brown eyes were wide and panicked.

“Baby?” The question came from an Italian man in some type of fetish slave bondage suit that also held on to his package. What the fuck?

“Who the fuck are you?” he hollered at us.

I looked to Calliope wondering what the fuck she was doing. She turned to the man and said, “I’m Calliope, Bellarose’s younger sister.”