Liam's POV

“Have I taught you nothing?” my father asked, his voice a pitch above a whisper as I read the files on the desk before me.
“No father, actually, you have taught me quite a lot,” I replied before I took another drink of Orlando’s horrible brandy. “Why do you ask?”
“Do not be coy with me boy. What happened between you and Melody today was unacceptable. You beat your wife—” “She is not my wife yet,” I said, smashing my hand against the oak desk and rising from the chair. “This woman, this Melody Giovanni, is insane, borderline demented, and she took a swing at me. It escalated, and then she . . . she shot me through the fucking leg!”
Sedric glared, his eyes blazing as he stepped forward. “As she should have. You had no right to interrupt her. If the tables were reversed, what would you have done?”
I would have killed the person slowly.
“You cannot possibly be on her side. You should be on my side.” I almost wanted to laugh at the thought. “Imagine if it had been Mom, or Coraline, or Olivia. What would you have said to them if you saw them act as Melody did?”
“What are you? Four? I am on the side of the family, as you should be. It was not your mother, or Coraline, or Olivia. It was Melody. Melody, who will become your wife in less than seventy-two hours. Make peace with her.”
Seventy-two hours? “Why in the hell are we getting married in three days?”
“So you don’t kill each other before the week is out. The press has been notified, and by morning, the world will know. Every gossip column, every news outlet, and every damn mafia member in the world will know the Giovannis and the Callahans are one. This means you two will have to pretend so fucking well, you fool yourselves that this isn’t just some arranged marriage, or so help me God, I will set you both on fire.” The fact that my father, Sedric Callahan, had just raised his voice and cursed in the same breath was proof enough he was serious. He had set a man on fire before . . . two actually.
Taking a seat once again, I turned and stared at the roaring fire that lit Orlando’s office. This day had not gone how I planned, and while my bones were aching for sleep, my mind could not stop racing.
“Son, do I approve of what Melody does? No. I do not, and that is because of the simple fact that I was raised differently. And by a man much more controlling than myself. The strongest survive, however, and the key to survival is to evolve with your environment. We have made so many strides. No longer are we just uneducated thugs with guns. We have evolved, the mafia has evolved, and now it’s your turn. Melody Giovanni is your evolution, embrace it and make peace.”
It was only when the door shut after him that I allowed myself to relax. I filled my mouth with the horrible brown liquid in my hands, but even that didn’t help my mind drift from the beautiful, dark-eyed woman who was to become my wife.
Our moment in the basement made my blood boil and other parts of me ache. She did not fight like a woman, but like a trained man, and the way she had looked—like a lioness about to rip apart her prey—made me want her even more. I almost had her on that damn wall, and she had wanted it. I had felt her nipples respond to me as they pressed against my chest through the thin material of her dress. Her eyes were begging, and her lips had parted for me as she held back moans of pleasure. Even her olive skin warmed beneath my hands. I would have taken her against that wall many times over and given her the pleasure we both hungered for, but instead, the wench shot me. She fucking shot me.
I’d been so shocked and horny that my mind couldn’t even comprehend what had happened. My thigh was burning like fire when she kissed my cheek and walked away. With that one shot, she had proven that breaking her was not possible. She would never convert to what I needed her to be.
She was a ruthless savage, and if you cannot break a ruthless savage, you need to figure out how to tame them.
I needed to make Melody understand that she was not above me. That she did not give the orders. That she did not move mountains or cause tornados to rip through the sky.
I did.
I had worked too long and too hard to let anyone stop me, least of all her.
I would have rather died than give up my fucking claim to this family.
When I found out what my father did for a living, I saw how people created paths for him as he walked in crowded buildings. I watched as governors, senators, bankers, and fucking judges alike kissed his feet. I knew what I wanted to do. Some people, like Neal and Declan, were simply born into the family, but I knew I was born to rule the mafia. It was beyond my fucking calling, it was in my blood. It was what pushed me daily, and the only person who ever stood in the way of that was my father.