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He paused before speaking “Uhh…I don’t think so.”
“You don’t think so?” I glanced over to him and he quickly answered.
“No. There is nothing wrong with my bow tie.”
“Then stop fidgeting.”
“Yes, Sir.”
I wasn’t sure which part confused me more—the fact that I was the father of a nine-and-half-year-old or the fact that I was the father of nine-and-half-year-old who looked completely identical to me, the same unruly brown hair, sharp green eyes, even my damn nose and ears, Ethan had them all. My mother sometimes would even call him my name by accident; even Neal and Declan had started to call him Liam Jr.
Each time they did, he stood a little prouder and in return that made me proud. However, if I wanted him to be named after me, he would have fucking been named after me. There was only one Liam Callahan, now and forever. I did not think this out of jealousy or pride—I earned my name, my Melody earned her name, so he would have to do the same…starting now.
“Sir,” Fedel nodded to me as I stepped out of the Rolls Royce. Fedel had changed over the years; the death of Monte had really gotten to him. His black hair was cut in a buzz, his olive skin tone had gotten only a little lighter in all the years he had been here, but that was nothing in comparison to his behavior now. He took no chances with anyone, he hardly spoke unless necessary and there was darkness in his eyes I was familiar with. Where I went, he went. He was now my right-hand man; Italian, Irish, it didn’t matter anymore; we were beyond that.
“Glass Emperor Hotel,” Ethan read when he stepped out beside me. He craned his neck up and stared at the silver skyscraper in front of us.
Without a word, I walked ahead with Fedel and three other bodyguards surrounding us. No one spoke to us as we entered, not the hostess or the valets, they only offered a short nod before moving on to whatever they did for a living. Those in the marble lobby were confused but moved out of our way as if they were water and I was Moses.
“Out,” Fedel told the elevator attendant staring wide-eyed at him.
“I…can’t leave my post,” she foolishly said.
Before Fedel could move, an older man with gray-black hair—George, his nametag read with the words manager underneath—stepped forward. “Keri, it’s time for your break.”
She raised an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything and stepped out. As she did, the rest of us stepped on.
“George…find another post for her,” I said. Her mouth dropped open as the doors closed on her face and we shot up towards the penthouse suite.
“Why did I do that?” I asked Ethan.
He thought for a second. “Because she didn’t listen?”
“Worse…she didn’t know who I was, now she’ll never forget.” If she simply didn’t listen, I would say she was brave…stupid, but brave.
“Presidential Suite,” the automated voice spoke as the doors opened again. The cream-colored marble floors right outside the suite were so polished that I could see my reflection in them.
“Not yet,” I said when I saw Fedel reach in his jacket. A smile crossed my lips as I walked towards the music.
One of my men walked towards the door, already pulling out the master card to get in.
“Knock first,” I said. Fedel’s eyebrows bunched together as he moved to stand in front of both Ethan and I—though just like I thought no one bothered to answer. They clearly couldn’t even hear over the music; the guards glanced back to me. “No one can say I didn’t try.”
The moment the door opened, it felt like I was hit with a wall of sound. The music was so loud it hurt. Inside, women of every race were dancing on couches, the pool tables, ‘dressed’ in G-strings and bras or nothing at all. All around them were fancy new toys, watches, and motorcycles; they even had the audacity to dance on the money just laying around…my money.
“Ladies!” I called out when Fedel cut the music. “I’m giving you one minute to find some fucking clothes, grab as much money as you can and get the hell out.”
“Who the fuck are you? How do you just walk in here?” Some half-drunk Asian man shouted as came out from behind the bar. He had shoulder length black hair, a scar under his left eye, and on each arm were two more women. One by one his bodyguards came from forward, some with the Tàiyáng tattoo on their faces, others on their necks or arms.
“In my defense, I did knock,” I said as my bodyguards tried to clear the room. However, these women were either too stupid or too scared to move, which proved they either knew who I was or knew whose party they were at and what would most likely be the outcome of this
.
“Your minute is up—get out,” Fedel snapped.
“I asked you who the fuck are you people? And how the fuck did you get into my building?”
“Your building?” I smirked at that. “You are a child, how can you own anything?”
