Vicious Minds: Part 3 (Children of Vice 6)

“Is there any subject you don’t mind being checked on for?” he pressed back.

And there wasn’t. So, I didn’t answer. Instead, I sat there doing exactly what she said I would be doing, sulking. What was worse was that I couldn’t even close my eyes without smelling her or remembering that damn dress she was wearing.

“Here.”

I glanced at the crystal of brandy. “It’s ten in the morning, Uncle.”

“And it’s 4:00 PM in Dublin,” he said, shoving the glass at me. “Wife problems go down easier with brown liquor.”

“Mmm.” Taking the cup, I shifted and sat back as he took a seat in the leather chair across from me.

“What are you two fighting about?”

I didn’t answer.

“Whatever you all are fighting about, just let her win,” he said, sipping his drink, causing me to narrow my eyes at him. What kind of advice was that, especially coming from him? Everyone in this family seemed to believe I gave in too much with her as it was.

“Don’t give me that look. I’m saying it for your sake,” he added.

“Is that so?”

“It is so.” He mocked my tone. “I didn’t trust her when she first got here. But after the last year, I’m now certain she is the only one in the world who can truly handle you.”

“Handle?” Was I a wild boar?

He nodded. “Yes, handle. Or are you going to deny that you’ve been much more relaxed and free since Calliope entered this house.”

I stared at him. If that is true, why does he send his children out of the house? Is what I wanted to say but instead focused on this subject. “I am as relaxed as I have always been,” I lied.

“It’s 10 AM. You’re reading the newspaper and having a drink with your uncle, sulking over your wife.”

There was that word again. Sulking. “I did not invite you here, Uncle.”

“And if it were a year ago, you would have already walked out. In fact, you would never have even been in the house at this time. You’d be in South Bend checking supplies instead. Or having a private meeting with the head of another family. Or you’d be at some morning meeting with politicians.”

“I have a meeting at two.”

“Really. A meeting? As in just one? Why?” he pressed. “Because your wife is handling the politicians, their wives, the community meetings, the charities, all the things you hate, while you focus on the business? She only tells you when to show up and smile for the cameras. And you prefer it that way. Since you were young, you never liked to truly get your hands dirty. You prefer to use other people to get what you want. And I’ve noticed Calliope lets you use her in any way you need.”

“Notice less, Uncle. Notice less,” I replied before taking a sip of my drink.

“Why? Have I stumbled on a big secret?” He laughed at me. “Well, let me not get into your crosshairs. All I’m saying is that, after what happened to Cora, this family could have crumbled. In fact, we’re still hurt. But because you and Calliope go on as you do, dragging us forward as if nothing happened, patching the cracks as you go, we’ve made it this far. The business is now as strong as ever; the families have been regaining confidence in you both. The city is calmer, and you two are the couple. Bravo.” He lifted his glass to me before finishing off his drink.

I cracked my jaw to the side. This was too convenient and one-sided in Calliope’s favor. “She told you to come in here and tell me all of this, didn’t she?”

He grinned, putting the glass on the table. “What Mrs. Callahan wants Mrs. Callahan gets. Good luck at the charity auction.”

I shook my head, finishing my drink as he left. Calliope really was unrelenting. It was one of the things I loved about her. But whenever she used her schemes on me, I wanted to strangle her. I disliked being controlled by anyone, and yet I found myself under her goddamn thumb anyway. She knew exactly what buttons to push. Rising from my chair, I grabbed my jacket, adjusting my cufflinks before walking to the door.

Stepping out, Dino—my personal bodyguard—pushed off the wall, coming over to me. He nodded once. I didn’t say anything, walking toward the front of the house. With each step, I debated smacking or mocking myself. So much had happened in a year. But the most important had been the changed image of Calliope and me in the city. The morning news called us the renaissance of old American royalty.

Trophy wife?

She went from being completely unremembered to being the woman everyone else wanted to be.

Calliope was now a princess on a mission to be queen.

Stepping outside, the familiar cold November wind blew around me, sending chills over my skin. The 30th of December was right around the corner. Calliope stood in front of the Bentley, a white fur jacket hanging over her shoulders. She glanced back at me. Her eyes narrowed, and without a word, she moved to step into the car as Monk opened the door for her. With Dino and the others here, he’d been pushed back down to a driver. Stepping forward, I pushed the door closed before she could get in.