7. Callahan
SEVEN
callahan
The look on not-Joy-but-Lucia’s face is priceless.
I’m hard. I’m so fucking beyond turned on I’m this close, like half a second, from ripping her panties off and slamming balls deep into her.
It’s probably a good thing her father walks in at that exact moment.
Good for her, not my balls.
“I see you’ve finally met. Is she up to your standards?” the jackass asks.
“She exceeds all expectations,” I say, my lips lifting.
“And I also brought my own officiant. We’re ready.”
I look at the pretty, blushing, and completely horrified Lucia.
“Excellent,” Vincent says.
“The wedding will take place as soon as she gets changed.”
I kiss her hand.
“See you soon. It’ll be a Joy being married to you.”
She forces a smile.
“Ass,” she seethes.
I saunter out and pull off my mask.
This is going to be fun.
“The girl from the other night is de Rosa’s daughter?” Seamus hisses as we’re all lounging against the end of the bar the de Rosas have set up.
“Yep. And Tor’s gonna marry us.” I take a gulp of the whiskey in my glass.
“Jesus Christ,” Torin mutters, scrubbing a hand down the front of his face since all masks have come off at this point.
“She’s got big tits from what I remember, yeah?” Fucking Declan.
I smack him in the head and grab the back of his neck, squeezing.
“That’s my soon-to-be wife, gobshite . Settle down and keep your eyes peeled for anything that might be a threat.”
Torin frowns, moving closer as he grabs a canape from a passing tray.
“You don’t trust de Rosa?”
“Only to a point.”
That’s my thing.
I don’t trust. Not beyond the contract.
I definitely don’t trust the sweaty, eager-to-please Don.
Because beneath the nerves and the powerful Don whose word is law, who rules big swathes of New York City, who runs all kinds of things I’d like to expand, he’s way too fucking eager.
And that’s a huge-ass red flag.
Fear and cowardice and even nerves, I get them, understand them.
I know the paths they lead some down.
But I suspect de Rosa’s got problems and that they’re big.
His finances are solid.
There’s no trouble or pressure from the law—not beyond the usual.
And if he’s being watched by them, I can’t find any indication of it.
But if he wants more, something bigger and better, those introductions and pathways inside using the Murphy name, there might be an underlying reason for his clear unease.
I won’t lose sleep over it since I’ll have his daughter, and despite his vile behavior toward her earlier, she is, at the very least, worth something to him.
And Lucia…
Fuck, I can still taste her.
As I discreetly change course toward the bar, I can feel how she licked and sucked my tongue, like the piercing got her hot.
I’m so used to it that half the time I don’t think of it unless I’m sucking tits or tonguing a pussy.
What’s she going to make of the rest of my piercings?
She’s a wildly strange one, my vixen of a wife.
The Don’s daughter. The wrong bride.
Fucking irony. I stifle a laugh and down my drink, the bartender refilling it without me asking.
I might be obsessed.
Just a little.
But I can’t blame myself because she’s contradiction upon contradiction.
Knowing her identity, now I get why she didn’t scream the other night, but she also had no idea who or what I was.
And she clearly didn’t run to Daddy for help, either.
Apart from the facts that I don’t think she was meant to be in front of that club and that I killed the man de Rosa wanted out of his way, I’m sure Daddy would have bargained a little more with me if he had a daughter in danger.
It wouldn’t have worked, but that’s what I would do if I were in his shoes.
Actually, scratch that.
I wouldn’t marry off a daughter like she was a cow.
Holy fuck. Imagine if I married her sister.
I’d have done it, taken the gorgeous Viviana, but I know which sister I’d have in my bed.
“She’s pretty, I’d do?—”
Dec stops the moment I side-eye him.
“Cal,” Tor mutters, moving closer.
“I’ll marry you both. Technically, you don’t need it since the paperwork pretty much sold her to you and solidified the deal already. But if you really think de Rosa’s hiding something and it’s bad, you don’t have to?—”
“I want the deal,” I say, cutting him off.
“You don’t have to take care of us. Mam is happy and safe. We don’t need this.”
“I wasn’t aware, Torin, that I was taking care of you all. This is a family business and I’m head of it. We let up and we get swallowed. I have no intention of doing that. I’ll spill as much blood as needed, squeeze stones for what they hold, and marry mafia princesses to get what I want.”
And fuck them stupid.
Make them mine.
Then again, I marked her like biting and sucking her neck was some pagan symbol of ownership.
Maybe it was, maybe a part of me already knew she was for me.
I slant him a glance.
“We do this because it keeps Mam safe, it keeps Da protected behind bars, and it keeps all of you alive and prosperous. I’ll rule New York and form the alliances I need to get to the top. Like this one. It’s power and a ruthless fairness. One without mercy or emotion. My only loyalty is to my family.”
Seamus slings an arm around my shoulders as Declan flirts with the mother of the bride.
I forget her name. Bianca?
“Good thing I didn’t let you tell me to kill your girl, eh?” He laughs like it’s funny.
The dick. “Is she family, too?”
“She’s a commodity. That’s it. But I will be expecting loyalty from her.”
“Why was she there at that club, Callahan?” Torin asks.
I shrug. I haven’t asked.
Yet. Time enough for that.
Time enough to find out if I can use it to my advantage.
The music stops. And then Vincent steps up to the front as staff suddenly arranges chairs into two sides with an aisle .
Christ on a fucking pogo stick.
“My Bianca and I want to announce the marriage of our daughter, Lucia, to Callahan Murphy, which will be happening now.”
A murmur ripples through the crowd.
The crime lords, allied families as well as the enemies a good crime boss keeps close to do business with, don’t seem bothered.
It keeps them from having to come to another event out in Bayside, Queens.
The wedding music starts, and Torin takes position, Seamus and Declan at my side.
“Mam’s gonna be pissed as hell to miss this sham, Cal,” Dec says with a snort.
Our mother might be American, but it takes a tough lady to have married Da, to deal with us.
She’d only be pissed if this was a love match.
Which it definitely is not.
“Shut it, asshole,” Seamus mutters.
“Or I’ll shut it for you.”
I’m about to say something, but as the door opens, the words die on my lips.
Fuck me.
The dress nearly swallows my bride.
She looks damn miserable and like she should be on top of a cake, but holy shit, she’s stunning.
“Smile,” I mouth to her.
Her brows pull tight, and then she displays a gloriously fake smile I could fall in love with.
“If you don’t want her, I’ll have her,” Dec says.
“She looks fun.”
“Put one filthy finger on her and I’ll break every bone in your body, skin you alive, and feed you your balls.”
Seamus makes a choking noise, and Dec says, “So that’s a no?”
“It’s a no. ”
De Rosa places her hand in mine and everything fades to white noise as our gazes lock.
I don’t really listen to Torin, just say the “I do” in the right place, put the ring on her finger, and let her put one on mine.
When we’re married, I take my time kissing her, slow and soft.
This time I suck her tongue, running the piercing over hers.
She shivers and makes the little shaky sigh she made earlier. She’s fucking mine.