Vicious Minds: Part 2 (Children of Vice 5)

“Oh?” Ethan looked at his brother. “And how do you plan on saving me from her, brother?”

Wyatt simply shook his head.

“Mommy,” Gigi yanked on her hand. “What’s dogestick violence.” Funny how the kid knew how to say the word violence.

“It’s when mommies and daddies hit each other,” Calliope surprisingly answered somewhat honestly.

Gigi’s eyes widened when she looked at Wyatt. “No, Uncle, Mommy and Daddy don’t do dogestick violence.”

Ethan walked over to her, placing his hand on her head. “Don’t mind Uncle Wyatt, he is always making things up in his head.”

“I’m right here.”

“Let’s go. We wouldn’t want to dishonor the Italian Armed Forces, even though we are American,” Ethan spoke, not at all acknowledging his brother.

The little girl grinned and giggled, wrapping her arms around him.

“You’re an Italian Irish American. You see how American goes last in that order?” Calliope shot back, rising to her feet and glaring at Ethan as he spoke.

He was trying to pick a fight with her.

“As my last name is Callahan. I believe the correct order is Irish before Italian—”

“I think whatever you think is irrelevant, especially if you do not want to lose the small percentage of Italians that still support you, Mr. Callahan,” she snapped back with a smile.

It was a smile Ethan did not return. His glare was hard; his nostrils even flared once. The one thing Ethan truly hated was to be belittled, chastised, or criticized in front of family…hell, anyone, actually.

Aunt Cora and Uncle Declan both stepped forward, ready to defuse the situation before Ethan actually smacked the hell out of his daughter’s mother right in front of her. However, either because she didn’t care or she didn’t realize the danger she was in, she stepped closer and tapped her daughter’s round little nose.

“What’s our mission for today?” she asked in a soft voice.

Her daughter grinned. “Help Papa.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s Papa,” she stated.

“Exactly.” Calliope nodded and giggled. “He’s made a big mess, and we can’t live in messes, can we? We’re too special, and special people deserve the best things. The best things are made by Italians. Which is why we need as many Italian friends as we can get.” Her eyes drifted up to him. “That’s why we need to help Papa because he’s not good at making friends.”

“Don’t worry, Papa; everyone loves Mommy and me!” Giovanna said with a childlike seriousness that would have made us all laugh, if not for the tension. She placed her hands on his cheek to reassure him she was up for the job.

He turned and kissed her small hands softly and then smiled. “I thank you in advance then. But how are you going to help exactly, little one?” He walked away from Calliope and toward the front doors, giving his full attention to his daughter.

“I’m going to smile and be nice. Mommy said that was all I need to do. Oh, and maybe draw a picture or maybe…” Giovanna went on, explaining as he carried her out the doors.

“I guess I won that argument,” Calliope muttered, rolling her eyes as she handed a note to the maid. “For dinner.” It was all she said before walking forward, everyone else following her.

It was so weird. How the hell was she walking around like she owned the place? How the hell was she speaking to Ethan that way? Why was no one stopping her?

“You did well,” my dad whispered, pinching my arm slightly and giving me a smile.

“Wouldn’t it have been better if I hadn’t messed up to start with?” I whispered back. “I feel like an idiot for fighting with her, Dad.” I should have waited to better understand the situation before acting.

He gave one of those dad smiles, that was kind and made me feel like I was making a big deal out of nothing he couldn’t fix.

“No, you’d look like an idiot if you held on to your pride and avoided the family for weeks like I did before my brother humbled me,” he said, leading me out the front door.

I looked at him, not knowing, and he just nodded. “Just proves you’re my kid, right? Stubborn blockheads.”