Children of Vice (Children of Vice #1)

“Noted.” He nodded for her to leave, which she did as if she’d seen the devil himself, forgetting the bloody tray she’d brought in, the idiot.

“Today there is another Chicago City Honorary Brunch. Your grandmother wanted to remind you your sister will not arrive until tomorrow, so you’ll have to do the speech,” Greyson, the second in line of my men behind Toby, informed me as we entered the elevator. “The speech has been emailed.”

I’d already begun to read it before he spoke.

“Next.” I waited.

“Mr. Downey…he’s here.” I gazed up from my phone. He nodded, adding, “It’s starting just like you said it would.”

“Brilliant.” I couldn’t help the smirk that spread across my lips. “Let’s not keep the traitors waiting.”

Exiting the elevator on my floor of the family mansion, there were only two doors on opposite ends of the hall, and neither of them followed me as I reached my own. Pausing, I glanced back at them. Both of them stood shoulder to shoulder, as positive as either of them could be. Grey’s short orange Irish hair and large frame, and Toby’s shoulder-length brown hair and slimmer build.

“Sir?” Toby stepped up.

“The bodies are about to start piling,” were words I shouldn’t have had to tell them but did anyway. “And anyone who tries to stop me will find themselves buried alongside their families under that pile.”

They did not speak. However, there was nothing they could say…their actions would speak for themselves as would mine. Entering my master room, I took off the towel around my waist, tossing it onto the couch before my bed…a gift of my aunt’s, who’d done the whole remodeling of the mansion after my father’s death per my request and to the annoyance of both my siblings. By the time they’d finished breaking down walls, putting up new ones, and recreating the whole floor plan, the room looked unrecognizable. Gone was my parents’ modern classic bedroom, and in its place, my rustic one, double in size with dark mahogany from floor to ceiling.

There were no doors, except a single one to enter and leave. Walking to my closet, the lights brightened in a row as I passed my suits, heading straight to the middle tabletop, and scanned my finger. The lid slipped back, allowing me to lift the very last gift my mother had gotten me before her death, a silver Diamond Back Colt revolver 38 Special, the words Che sarà, sarà engraved on the wooden butt of it.

Loading a single inside, as I did every morning, I put it to the side as I reached for a suit. It did not matter which; I’d be burning it at the end of the day.

Ringgg.

“Is she here?”

“Yes, sir,” Toby stated.

Not replying, I hung up.

Not even a second later, I could hear her voice from behind the door.

“Ethan?”

“Here,” I said as I buttoned up my navy shirt.

She entered, wearing a bright yellow tailored suit and black heels. Her hair was dyed a copper-blond and cut right above her shoulders.

“Nana, we’ve spoken about this. You’re seventy-three. You can’t go around upstaging twenty-year-olds like this.”

“Flattery.” She pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “I can testify all Callahan men have mastered it. Unfortunately for you, years of exposure have made me immune.”

“Should I switch to insults?”

“Would you like to die?”

I smirked at that. “Are you threatening the Ceann na Conairte?”

“Is that what you’ve become now?”

My jaw clenched as I reached for my tie. “Grandmother, I haven’t had breakfast yet. I’d advise you to take heed and stop.”

“Oh well…” She gasped, taking a seat on the leather bench against the wall separating suits from the rest of my clothing. “Only because you’ve advised me.”

“I turn twenty-eight on Saturday.”

“I am aware.”

Was she? “That’s a year older than my father when he’d gotten married to my mother.”

She laughed. “Is that why you’ve been agitated…well, more agitated…than normal lately? Had your grandfather not forced him, he would have waited till he was—”

“Thirty.” No matter what, for him to be respected as head of the pack, the Ceann na Conairte, the rules, yes, rules set by my senile, also dead great-grandfather, and passed down from father to son, demanded we marry.

“You still have two years.”

“Aren’t grandmothers supposed to be worried they’ll die before seeing their great-grandchildren?”

She sucked her teeth angrily. “Are you saying I’ll die before you get married? Me, who’s lived to see your great-grandfather, your grandfather, great uncle, and father murdered? I’ll somehow have a shorter life than you?”

Turning around toward her, her eyes narrowed and eyebrows arched.

And it was funny to see her act so gentle and relaxed… “After almost twenty-eight years, you’d think you’d understand my sense of humor by now?”

“You’d think after almost twenty-eight years someone would have told you that you aren’t funny in any sense.”

To appease her as best I could, I tried self-deprecating. “As if a Callahan man would listen to the opinions of others.”

She didn’t want to, but she smiled anyway. “Why have you called me here?”

“I’ve found a wife—”

“Come again?” Her eyes went wide as she stared at me.

“A wife,” I said very slowly. “I’ve found one…well, her.”

“Ethan, a woman isn’t a cat! What do you mean you found her?”

“It’s a long story. Nevertheless, she’s going to need your help. She’s not exactly Callahan material—and before you ask, I do not know her. She is a tool in a very important game, a tool I need you to secure without a doubt so she’ll be ready by my birthday.”

She stared at me shocked, confused, annoyed until she finally snapped. “Ethan! I swear to God, if you do not stop being so cryptic—”

“You are aware that someone of the Irish in Boston isn’t pleased with this family, correct?”

She grinned, rising to her feet. “Jealously must be hard.”

“I would not know,” I replied, and she merely made a face as I continued. “Nana, that is all I can say for now.”

Sighing, she stood in front of me and reached out to place her hand on my cheek, but I backed away. Unfazed, she dropped her hand and spoke again, “You do realize marriage in this family is undoable, correct? You know nothing other than she isn’t Callahan material, which is the most important thing for her to be, and yet are willing to sacrifice the rest of your life, privacy, and peace, simply so your grand plan can come together?”

“If it means protecting this family’s name and legacy, I’d set myself on fire.” I felt my whole body tensing as I spoke. “I will not be the son who inherited the kingdom only to let it crumble at my feet. That is not my fate.”

“You do know this is why your cousins are scared of you, correct?” She pouted. “They think you’d kill even me in order to win…let alone them.”

I stared at her a long time. She was testing me, wanting to hear what I’d say, and so I didn’t answer. Reaching over, I grabbed the gun and placed it in the concealed shoulder holster under my arm before grabbing my coat and offering her my arm.

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