“It’s a pity you didn’t know
when you started your game of murder,
that I was playing, too.”
~ Robb White
MELODY
Who in the fuck is asking to die?
I glared toward the back of the room, searching for the face behind the voice that had dared interrupt me.
My blood boiled.
Liam, soon-to-be-fucking-dead, Callahan was walking down the stairs—my fucking stairs—with his sex hair high and his green eyes sharper than razor blades. He was beautiful, and I almost regretted the fact that I would have to put a bullet in his head and then smash it through a fucking wall.
“So, this is the man behind the bitch?” Ryan laughed.
Before I could even stop myself, I brought the butt of my gun across his face and did not stop smashing it until I heard a sick pop. I beat him into unconsciousness and left him slumped in his chair, his eyes swollen shut.
Wiping the blood from my face, I took a deep breath and held the gun up for Monte before I turned back to face the fuckable idiot.
“You overstep, Callahan.”
He looked me up and down with both disgust and lust. “Do I? I believe you’re mistaken, love. After all, I just signed a very powerful document making all of this mine.”
“Did your father pay for your Dartmouth diploma? Because you don’t seem to be good at reading.” I glared at him, trying not to let the thick waves of lust that radiated off him bother me. “That paper says you work with me after our marriage, Callahan, and we are not married yet so you’re still a fucking guest in my fucking house.”
He smirked and it was sexy, dangerously so, and I wanted to kill him for it. “Be a good fiancée and tell your pets to leave, or I will put them down, sweetheart.” His green eyes assessed at me as though I was his shiny new toy.
Do not kill. Do not kill. Melody, stay calm and do not kill him.
I wasn’t going to lose my cool in front of my men. Glancing across the room, each of them stood with their hands tensed at their sides, waiting for me to give the word. Just a tip of my head would signal them to put as many fucking bullets as possible into the motherfucker in front of me.
“Monte, Fedel, take Mr. Ross and wake him up. If he doesn’t cooperate, please show him the live feed we have of his brother, whom he also failed to hide, and the bomb in his house.” I never broke eye contact with Liam. “The rest of you, leave.”
I could hear their feet as they followed my orders and ran like roaches in the daylight. The only men who didn’t move were the two I recognized as Liam’s brother and cousin.
“That applies to you two as well.”
They grinned and looked to Liam.
He raised an eyebrow at me. “They stay here.”
Taking a step forward, I stopped when he was a little more than an inch away from me. I could feel his breath on the tip of my nose, and smiled sweetly.
“Only if they’re in body bags,” I said, stepping around Liam and scowling at the two men who had yet to leave. “You have two seconds.”
They shifted their eyes toward the man standing behind me once more before heading toward the door. The moment it shut, I spun around, fist flying toward his head. It met his palm.
Grabbing my fist, he flung me into the chair Ryan had occupied. He cupped my cheek with one hand, and with the other, he held both my wrists tight.
“First, your joke?” he said, panting in my face like a lion eager for the chance to jump his prey. “Not funny.”
“Second.” He brushed his thumb over my lips. “The moment the ink touched that fucking paper, you were mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to fucking command, and mine to put in your fucking place.”
“Third.” He kissed me brutally before pulling away. “All this is over. You sit at my side and you stay beautiful, like a lady.”
I stared at him wide-eyed. “Is that all, master?”
He grinned, but before he could speak again, I pulled my head back and smashed it against his fucking nose. His head went back and his grip on me loosened. I brought my knees back just far enough to kick in him in the crotch, causing him to release me completely.
“You fucking—” he started, but I didn’t let him finish speaking before sideswiping his legs out from under him. With my now-ruined white Gucci heels on his neck, I glared down at him.
“First,” I said, pressing into his neck, “get used to this position, because you’re my bitch, not the other way around.”
“Second, do not ever put your fucking lips on me without my permission!”
He twisted my foot and brought me down to the ground, pinning me there with the weight of his body, before I could get to my third point
Fury burned in his eyes as he breathed roughly through his nose. “My mother told me never to hit a woman, but you are pushing my limits.”
“Funny, my father told me the same thing. Would you like me to apologize?” I pushed my thumbs to his eyes, forcing his hands to let go of my throat.
We fought and struggled on the ground like savage animals before he picked me up and threw me into the nearest wall. I grabbed a chair and smashed it against his side. It went on and on, each of us trying our best to kill the other without actually killing each other.
When I landed a kick to his side, he fucking grabbed me like a ragdoll and flung me across the room. It was nothing. Instead of letting myself feel the pain, I jumped back up. My heels were now long gone, and the dress I had changed into just to meet him was torn up the sides. His suit jacket had been lost in the heat of the battle, his shirt was ripped, and his tie was barely hanging around his neck. His hair was even more disheveled, and eyes were wilder than the fucking jungle.
When my fist collided with his cheek, he drew his gun and aimed it directly at my face. He stalled when he got a good look at me. Panting like the beast he was, the lust in his eyes returned in full force.
Without a second thought, he pushed me up against the wall before attacking me with kisses. His mouth was everywhere, from my neck down to the front of my chest, back to the sides of my face, before it met mine again. He gripped my ass with one hand and my breast with the other, the one that still held his gun. I felt his hard-on pushing against my waist, trying its best to find its way inside me. His actions were barbaric, almost animalistic, like a man dying of thirst, and the only source of water was my skin.
I loved every moment of it.
But I would not let him win. I would not bow down to him. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever.
He was so busy trying to figure out how to get the zipper of my dress down that taking the gun from him was like taking candy from a baby. Frantically rubbing himself against me even harder, closer, he almost just let me have the firearm.
With one great push, I forced his body to separate from mine, which surprisingly missed his warmth already. He stared at me with desperation. I pointed the gun and pulled the trigger, causing his leg to buckle. He started in shock as the bullet went through his thigh, then roared in pain as he fell down on one knee.
That’s right, hail to the Boss.
“Third, if you ever interrupt me again, Liam Alec Callahan, may God have mercy on your soul when I send you meet to him.” I kissed him on the cheek and removing the clip from the gun, along with the bullet in the chamber, before walking toward the door.
When I opened it, my men were there with guns drawn on Declan and Neal, who mirrored their poses. It explained why neither of them had come in. They couldn’t check the door without putting their backs to the enemy.
My men all looked me up and down with proud grins on their faces.
“What would you like us to do with them, ma’am?” one of them, Antonio Franco, asked, grinning wider than the rest of them. Antonio hated the Callahans as much as Fedel did. He wasn’t as close to me as Monte or Fedel, but he was as loyal as they come. He and his father had worked for Orlando long before I took over. Getting him to fall in line had meant getting the older ones—the ones who were still bitter that I, a female, and a young one at that, was now Boss—to fall in line.
I turned to my family-in-law and smiled before reaching out to shake their hands. “I apologize for not being properly introduced. As you know, I’m Melody Nicci Giovanni, but you may call me Mel.”
They didn’t shake back. Instead they glared, their guns still raised.
“Oh, right, your brother.” I pretended to forget. “He is a little beat up and will need a doctor. But don’t worry—the shot was clean through and through. He’ll be walking in a few hours. You may check on him, and I will have Adriana show you to your rooms.”
I nodded to my men, directing them to drop their weapons—they frowned but complied—before following me toward the elevator. It opened to reveal not only my father, but also the eldest Mr. Callahan. Making me realize, once again, the Callahans were blessed with almost a little too much pretty for my liking.
My father looked me up and down before shaking his head and sighing while Sedric just stared with no expression on his face.
“Did my son do this to you?” he asked, looking at my slightly bruised arms and legs, cut lips, and messed up hair.
“It was a small disagreement.” I smiled. “And I shot him for it. If he weren’t my future husband, it would have been worse. I do hope we can be introduced properly later, Mr. Callahan, as I find your past work fascinating.”
And with that I stepped into the elevator as it reopened. It was only when the doors were closing that I saw Liam’s brother and cousin rush back into the room to collect him. I withheld my laughter.
“I’m shocked you didn’t shoot him in the kneecap for that shit, ma’am,” Antonio said as we made our way up.
I smiled. “How would I look with a handicapped husband, Antonio?”
The moment we reached the top floor, I headed straight into my room. I had it conjoined with my father’s once he became worse. I almost sighed at the feeling of the soft carpet on my bare feet. This room, my room, was my sanctuary. The day I took over, I had it remodeled to a more eighteenth-century Roman décor—paintings included.
Changing into a white and gold bathing suit, I headed toward the swimming pool. I felt dirty and downright tired, but the last thing I wanted was for the bruises on my skin to linger more than a few hours. The way to avoid that was to take a swim in ice water. It would sting at first, but a few hours later my skin, and my mind, would be good as new—clear. God knew it was fucked up now.
I could still feel his hands all over me, demanding and possessive. His lips as they bit into my neck, my ear, and at last my lips. He wasn’t just a good kisser, he was a sensual kisser. He wanted to make sure, with just one kiss, that I was wet for him and willing to give in. Had I been anyone else, it would have worked.
There was no doubt in my mind that he knew what to do and how to do it. He was a force, and I wouldn’t have minded, if he hadn’t come into my house and tried to make me into his little Stepford wife.
In the pool, I shivered, but I needed to try to escape him. I couldn’t, though. He was there pushing his way to the front of my mind. I hated him. I loathed him. I lusted after him, and it made me angry with myself. Even in the cold water, as I swam I felt him pressing against me. I felt the electricity of his hands, his sensual tongue. I couldn’t deny that I wanted him.
I would have to figure out how to have him and, at the same time, make him understand that I was not surrendering to his will. Not even close. It was my choice. It was going to be animalistic and wild and a way for me to wind down.
When I finally came back up for air, there he was, the object of all my anger, rage, and lust sitting poolside in a fresh suit with a bandage over his leg—a leg that was resting on my pool chair. Rising out of the water, I reached for my towel while his eyes raked over my body.
“See something you like?” I asked, squeezing the cold water from my hair.
He frowned. “Sadly, yes, but it’s an illusion. The moment you get close, it turns into a ruthless savage and shoots you in the thigh with your own gun.”
“If I turned into a ruthless savage, it was only because another ruthless savage stepped into my arena. If you came for an apology, look elsewhere. Now, get the fuck up,” I said.
Glaring, he got up. The moment I sat down, he grabbed my hand and I saw in his eyes that he felt whatever spark it was that coursed through us. He leaned in, catching my gaze in his own. He stopped just inches from my face before I heard a click near my wrist. Looking down, I saw that he had handcuffed my wrist and my ankle to the chair.
“After that display earlier, I believe you need a time out.” He chuckled, kissing my forehead like I was some pet or child. “You were swimming so long you missed dinner, so I did you a favor and brought you some.” He pointed to the dish that was only attainable with my free hand. “I will come to get you in the morning.”
“What makes you think I can’t pick a lock you son of a bitch?” I sneered, pulling on the damn handcuffs.
“I filled the locks with cement. You can’t pick it love, believe me, I’ve used them before,” he said, brushing the side of my face. “If you ever hold a weapon to me again, Melody, I will handcuff you fucking upside down and underwater.”
He kissed me again, this time on the mouth, and with my free hand, I slapped him across the fucking face. His head snapped to the side before he turned back to me and winked. Smug, sexy bastard. With his free hand, he slid an obnoxiously large diamond engagement ring onto my finger. He let go and grabbed a few more towels, dropped them over me, and walked toward the exit.
“Say you’re sorry and I will free you now, love, and then we can start anew.”
He was trying to break me, the fucker.
“Fuck you and the Audi you drove up in.”
Frustrated, he ran his hands through his hair before shaking his head. “We will talk later, then. Eat. I wouldn’t want to bring you home to my mother sick. I will make sure the room stays warm. I sent everyone else to bed for the night. Goodnight, wife.”
“Fuck you, fiancé,” I said, leaning back in the chair.
I was fine until he turned off the lights and shut the door. He didn’t know. No one knew except for my father. I had an irrational fear of the dark. Even though there was still the dimmest light from the pool illuminating the small area, I could still feel the fear creeping up my spine.
There was no way in hell I was spending the night here. Sighing, I tried to calm myself before pulling the chair and myself to the edge of the water before jumping in.
I was going to get out of this tonight, even if I had to break my hand to do so. Hopefully, the chair would break against the walls first.
Either way, he would not win.