“Watch your language,” Callum warned.
“What, you’re my fuckin’ schoolmarm? I don’t get why we’re having this fuckin’ conversation.”
“So, I’m giving you the chance to give us your blessing. Maybe see your grandchildren someday.”
“My grandchildren?”
He’d said too much, given his opponent an edge. Time to walk it back.
Callum sighed. “Hypothetical grandchildren.”
He heard Valetti’s laughter, low and menacing.
“No grandchild of mine. I would as soon drown it as rock its cradle, I swear that.”
Callum felt that buzzing again, adrenaline filling his veins.
He didn’t let that stop him this time, though. He just leaned out, barely looking at Valetti. A gift from his SEAL days, he never forgot once he had seen a target.
He just shot at the couch where Valetti hid, strategically and calmly filling it with lead. He emptied the entire magazine of his gun into the couch, bullet after bullet.
He heard the old man’s taunt echoing in his head.
I would as soon drown it…
He heard Valetti get hit, multiple times.
Then he forced himself to stop. This was no old-time mafia shooting, this was modern vengeance. No need for any more bullets, he told himself.
So Valetti hadn’t taken a serious hit, maybe. But it was still enough for the old man to be in the hospital for good long while.
Good enough for Callum. He didn’t need it to be critical, he just needed to put the Don out of commission. Long enough that the buzzards would be circling his throne, and he would never be able to trust anyone again.
“That’s from your grandchild, you bastard,” he muttered.
Speaking of buzzards…
To the other guy, he called: “You can come after me… or you can stay and protect your Don. Your call.”
Callum listened for a second. Then he heard, “Hello? I need an ambulance!”
The guy had made a wise move. He was calling 911, trying to staunch the flow of blood from Valetti’s wounds. Maybe trying to name himself successor…
Fine by him.
Callum turned and headed down the hall, feeling the particular lightness that he sometimes felt after a hit.
He looked left and right, then stepped into the stairwell. He stopped to tuck his weapons safely in their holsters, then ran his hands over his face.
Valetti, his threats… they were over. Now, it was time to get to the whole reason for all that, the woman he loved.
He spent the next couple of minutes slow climbing the stairs, regaining his self-control. By the time he got to the top floor, he was breathing normally again, seeing normally, too.
He wiped a splotch of blood off his knuckles onto his pants. There was no need for Viola to see that.
He went down the hallway to her doorway, pulling the wrong keycard from the lock. He raised his hand to knock, but Viola pulled the door open first.
“Already?” she asked, quizzical. “You already… dealt with my father?”
“Yeah. Turns out, neither of us had much to say.”
She surprised him by throwing her arms around him.
“Don’t think that this means I’m not mad at you for locking me in the room,” she said, tears in her voice. “I am so, so mad. But right now, I just need to hug you.”
He relaxed into the hug for a minute, putting his arms around her, too.
“I’m sorry.”
“Just… shut up and let me hug you.”
He let it go for a few seconds longer, then pulled back and kissed her forehead.
“We should go, while the paramedics are here. We don’t want the cops to show up while we’re still here.”
She nodded at him, tears threatening. “I just need to grab one bag.”
“Hurry.”
She hustled to the bedroom of her suite, and returned moments later with the bag in tow.
“Here, let me take it,” he said.
She looked at him while she handed it over, but didn’t say anything.
What were you supposed to say to the person who’d just gunned down your father?
Thanks for not making me marry another man?
Callum’s jaw tightened. That was never going to happen, not while he was alive.
He’d see to it that she was branded his forever, wearing his ring, called by his name.
“All right, let’s go,” he said.
He walked her to the elevators, and they rode down to the lobby in silence.
They walked through the lobby, passing a couple of paramedics running upstairs. He saw Viola glancing at them as they went by.
He knew that even as much as she hated him, she needed to know that her father wasn’t dead.
“He’ll be okay,” Callum said, taking her hand in his free one.
“Yeah…” she sighed. “I just… it’s a shame, and a relief. Both at once.”