Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(93)
How the fuck was I so damn in love with this fucking crazy woman.
Goddamn it!
CALLIOPE
“They were right; I feel much better.” I drank from the bottle as I sat on top of the table. Looking over my shoulder, I watched Ethan dab the blood on his forehead with a napkin. “Do you feel better?”
He paused, turning his head to me his green eye boring right through me. I wanted to kiss him so badly. He looked pissed, though.
“Now that you are calm—”
“Now that I am calm?” I spun around on the tabletop to look at him. “I was calm on the phone. I was calm when I got here. You were the son of a bitch who had guards waiting for me, armed. Why? Because I was not okay with the fact that my daughter was taken from me without permission? Instead of approaching me in a calm and logical manner, you decided to fight me. Actually, I can’t even call that a fight. Which is worse because the fact that it was so easy to get to you feels like I was being bloody mocked!”
“I had guards meet you because I don’t know you! Nor do I trust you. From the moment we met five years ago you were lying to my goddamn face!”
“I lied to you?” I said, stunned.
“Are you really going to—”
“You are the most insufferable person I have ever had the misfortune to meet. You are so goddamn pigheaded, you think you are the sun, the sky, stars, and the damn moon! I never lied to you—”
“You said your name was Cordelia Mu?oz!”
“I never said that! You said it! You never asked my name, Ethan. Why? Because you thought I was some poor sexy Colombian woman that would simply fall for your great bullshit. You never bothered to ask for any information about me. You found someone to follow me as I was working undercover as Cordelia Mu?oz. You compiled all that information together, never asking me a single damn question related to who I was because you are pigsheaded! Now you want to call me a liar, Vaffanculo!” I swore before spitting air in his direction.
His fist clenched and nostrils flared. “You knew who I was and that our family had history and yet said nothing—”
“Why the fuck should I have to say anything? I was working. Was I supposed to jeopardize all the work I had been doing for a year for you? Why? Did you tell me about your work? No. Did I ask? No. I didn’t need the answers. You wanted to know who I was, but you didn’t ask, and you got bad information. That was your fault! So why am I at fault? No… sei un figlio de puttana!” Turning away from him I drank again, knowing full well he was going to chain me down and fuck me till I couldn’t walk for this shit.
“If you truly believed you did nothing wrong why did you keep me away from my daughter?” The question was most likely for his parents watching or any of the caring family members also watching.
“Calliope!”
“You can raise your voice all you like. That won’t make me respond to you—” I closed my eyes as he yanked my arm forcing me back. His hand on my skin…how tightly he held me…it made me want to not only fight back but also chain him up too. His eyes glared at me, but I saw the lust in them.
“You have three seconds to release my arm before I get upset,” I warned him, and he squeezed more.
“You don’t seem to understand,” I said seriously, placing my hands in my pockets. “I am not Cordelia Mu?oz, a poor nobody waitress from Bogotá, Colombia. I am Calliope Seraphina Orsini of Lazio, Italy. Before the Callahan clan existed, before even the Giovanni family existed, my family did…as nobles. Three popes: Celestine III, Nicholas III, and Benedict XIII came from my family. No one touches me without my permission. Not even you.”
Dusting the glass shards off his of his shoulders, he pinned me with his stare, his jaw set tightly. “If you care so much about family, if you hold family in such high regard, why the hell would you deny me mine? You still haven’t answered that. Fine. I never bothered to actually know you. You had your reasons for not telling me who you really were. Fine to all of that. I will take responsibility for that. But what was the reason you chose to deny me my daughter?”
“I’m not housewife nor am I an ornament. I am a weapon. So I said no to you…and the future you’d offer, fully aware that you’d most likely never see your daughter until she was older. Did I feel bad about that? Sure. But not for you, for my little girl, so I made sure she knew who you were. I told her stories all about your family. I even made sure she remembered your face, name, number, and address. Isn’t that enough?”
His eyes never left mine. He stared, and I could tell he was touched. But he didn’t want to speak first. Instead, he grabbed my bag and coat.
“Calliope.”
“Save your bullshit for someone other dumb jailbird Irish bitch. Note or no note it doesn’t matter, nor does it change anything. I didn’t come for you. I came for my daughter, and maybe my grandfather. I haven’t yet decided if I’m going to kill him yet. So point me in the correct direction so I can go home.”
“I’m not letting you go.”
“I’m not asking.”
He reached his behind his back and within a second, we both had guns drawn on each other.
“You saw what happened when you stepped into this house. If you think I’m going to let you leave, let my daughter leave, you’ve lost your goddamn mind. I will fight you with everything I have. I will drag your name through the mud and expose you in every way humanly possible. I’m sure the world will love to know about the i libitinarii.” He threatened me coldly, placing his hand in his pocket. “An exposed assassin is as good as dead, correct?”