Vicious Minds (Children of Vice #4)(95)
“Mamma—”
“Stay back, cuore mio, we’ll go in a second…” I said in Italian, trying to work, but I stopped when I heard a sniffle. I glanced up and her bottom lip was quivering and tears were pooling in her eyes.
“Cuore mio…”
“Daddy…hates… me. That’s why I…I have to go… But I don’t want to, Mamma.” She tried to fight back the tears, but the came and she rushed to wipe her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mamma…warriors…don’t cry.”
That was final curtain call of this little show ours. I put the vial back into my pocket and took off my gloves. Kneeling, I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, cuore mio,” I whispered, brushing her hair back. “Your daddy wants you with him so much.”
“Then why do I have to go?” she asked, sniffling again.
I wiped her tears with my thumb. “Because mommy makes complicated choices. But I’ll be better for you, I promise.”
“So I can stay?” The hope her eyes was too much for me to handle. Nodding, I pulled her back into my arms, wrapping them around her tightly. When I looked up, my grandfather was standing at the end of the hall with a small smile on his face. Glaring at him, I rolled my eyes before I affirmed my daughter. “You’re staying, cuore mio. This is Callahan Manor and you are a Callahan.”
That was the excuse we needed.
They now had a story of why I left.
And now why I stayed.
It was a lie, but it would explain why Ethan and I were going to magically work it all out.
Using our daughter as our cover was horrible thing to do a little girl, emotionally, but we needed to do it.
“I love you so much, cuore mio.” I kissed her cheek.
Thank you for helping mommy and daddy today.
Chapter 21
“Vice is like a fury
to the vicious mind,
and turns delight itself
to punishment.”
~Ben Jonson
LIAM
She got up from the chair and glanced out the window as if she could see him from a distance. As if he would see her silent rage and correct himself like he did when he was child. Getting up, I walked over and stood beside her, staring out at the city in front of us hanging underneath the moon.
“It’s all right, but it’s no Chicago,” I whispered.
“And the people far too nice,” she added, her arms crossed under her breasts.
At that I snickered. “They’re Canadians. Being nice is their trademark.”
She rolled her brown eyes before glancing to me, her expression softening a bit. Each time I noticed that, I wanted to bloody applaud myself for somehow surviving her. I reached up and placed my hand on her cheek. “Don’t worry, nobody will ever believe you were old enough to be a grandmother.”
Her eyes widened at that and she shook me off, turning back and entering our suite again. She glared at the television screen and shook her head. “I know my son, Liam, there is no way in hell he would make this sort of mistake.”
“Why?” I leaned against the wall.
“What do you mean why? It’s Ethan!”
“And so?” I pressed, and she clutched the remote, cocking her head to the side, visually annoyed with my response. “It’s Ethan, your son, our son, a human fucking being, who as you may remember has made a series of mistakes, one of which nearly got our other fucking son killed.”
“You’re blaming that on him—”
“Who else am I supposed to be blaming it on?” I snapped, pushing off the wall. “He left his brother, he left the family!”
“So did Wyatt—”
“Wyatt is not the Ceann Na Conairte!”
“He lost his wife!”
“Another stupid fucking mistake!” I yelled back. “The daughter of Shay ‘The Fool’ O’Davoren? Who also happened to be an incompetent fool. It must run in their family and still he chose that woman! It’s like we taught him nothing! Both him and Wyatt. We should have left everything to Dona instead of throwing her to the pathetic little prince!”
“Oh, really? Are you going to kill your sons to make it happen? Because I doubt Ethan would have let her live—”
“Ethan is weak! If anyone would have let anyone live, it would have been Dona!”
“Do you hear yourself? We are talking about our children’s lives!”
“Do you hear yourself? The almighty Bloody Melody using her heart to make decisions—”
BANG!
“FUCKING SHIT MEL!” I hollered, grabbing on to the tip of my ear which was now bleeding. The remote was gone from her hands, and in its place her motherfucking gun. Her nose flared out like a dragon ready to burn down the village. She held the gun up. “How many times do I have to tell you to use your goddamn words, woman!”
“I was using my words, but it didn’t seem like we were getting anywhere—”
“More like you couldn’t defend your fucking position.” I grabbed one of the napkins, as well as ice from the wine bucket on the damn table to hold to my ear. “I am too fucking old, and I have been married too fucking long to be dodging your motherfucking bullets. Shoot at me again—”