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Unless the Russians were gunning for Callahan going bankrupt so they could take over. Milking the cash cow until they’d take it all for themselves. That seemed more likely. But Callahan’s poor business practices aren’t what has me concerned—it’s the reason behind that. What did he try to buy off the Russians that put him in their debt in the first place?
That’s what I need to find out.
I consider calling Dante and updating him, but I don’t have enough evidence just yet. Callahan could have just handed me my ticket out of this whole ordeal, though, which is what I’ve been hoping for. If he’s betrayed the Italians or lied to us, that’s grounds for calling off the alliance. Which means no marriage.
I can’t tell if I’m actually elated by the prospect of getting out or not. At first, I probably would have been the first to suggest ending this whole thing but now that I’ve gotten to know Cara better…I can’t deny that I want her. She’s strong and capable, built for a life as a mafia wife, and incredibly smart. She’s everything a man can want in a partner. If only she wasn’t fucking Irish…
Niccolo pulls up to the Callahan’s estate, waiting at the front gate as their guard comes to check us in. He takes one look at me and waves us through. Niccolo pulls up to the front doors, parking at the top of the wrap-around drive.
“Stay here,” I tell him. “Text me when Cara arrives.” Niccolo nods, settling in for a long wait while I head to the front door.
Their butler opens it before I reach the top step. He holds it open, letting me walk right in. I was just here a few days ago, but now I’m seeing everything in a new light. The house is ornate and classically decorated, but I can see that it hasn’t been changed or updated in a while. The house is empty, almost depressingly so.
I wander into the living room, noticing there are barely any personal items. It looks too immaculate to be lived in as if no one actually comes in here. Neither Cara nor her father must spend a lot of time here, if at all. I head back into the hall. The butler disappeared, leaving me to myself. Eyeing the stairs, I make a last-minute decision.
Going through Callahan’s office—which I’m sure he has somewhere around here—is just asking for trouble. But his daughter’s room? The woman who’s to be my future wife? That won’t be as suspicious. I’m not sure what I expect to find in there, but I can’t just wait around doing nothing until she comes back home. Besides, it might be a little fun to see what Cara is really like behind the fake socialite gig.
Heading up to the second floor, I stop at the top of the steps. There’s one hall leading to the left and right, and most of the doors are closed. A few paintings hang from the white walls, the beige carpet leading from door to door. I decide to go right, where most of the doors are closed. The first is a small library, with bookshelves lining the walls. Large floor-to-ceiling windows cover the back wall overlooking the drive, heavy gray drapes hanging from either side. I close the door and head to the next.
Her room is exactly as I pictured it. Her bed is perfectly made, the white sheets immaculately clean. A desk sat at the window, overlooking the yard. Her closet and bathroom were to the left, as put together as the rest of her life. My eyes snag on the photos on top of the desk. Moving closer, I see it’s Cara with her two friends out at the beach. They’re all smiling, their arms around each other’s shoulders. Cara’s in the center, her face practically glowing from the sun.
She looks…happy. At ease. She doesn’t have to pretend for her father’s sake and doesn’t have to turn on the charm to socialize with her father’s business partners. Doesn’t have to pretend she’s happy about a marriage she’d never want in a million years. I set the photo back on the table, noticing the Business course books on her desk, notebooks filled with perfectly written notes. Everything is in order. I’d thought the whole perfect daughter thing was just an act. Turns out, she might actually just be a perfect daughter. And that irritated me more than it should.
I pull open the top drawer, finding her laptop just sitting there. Pulling it out, I open it. Of course, it’s password protected. Snapping it closed, I start rifling through the papers in the drawer. There’s nothing here but old class notes. Nothing of importance. I shove the drawer closed, feeling irritated. I hadn’t been expecting to find anything incriminating. This had been more about sating my curiosity than anything else. Still, I was disappointed I hadn’t found some deep, dark secret of hers. The girl is too clean.
“What the hell are you doing in my room?”
Turning away from the desk, I find Cara closing the door to her room. She’s glaring at me as if I’d just committed the gravest of sins. “You’re back earlier than I expected.” I slip my phone out, checking the time. “Did dear old dad tell you something you didn’t like?”
Her eyes narrow. “What are you doing in my room?”
“Passing the time.”
“By going through my things?” She sounds pissed.
I shrug. “Nothing better to do. Did you finally ask your father for the whole truth?”
Cara hesitates, moving to set her black tote bag on the bed. “I did.”
“And?”
“And,” she says slowly, “turns out that my father cut some sort of deal with the Russians. Something about wanting protection in case the Snake went after them. The Russians screwed him over.”
“So he came running to us for protection after his mistake,” I finished for her. “How brilliant. And you had no idea? About any of this? What was the deal? Was it for weapons?”
“Look,” she snaps, “I didn’t fucking know a thing. All I knew was that our businesses were doing fine, and then they weren’t. And now my father just told me this like twenty minutes ago at the hospital. I have nothing to do with any of this. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have let him do it in the first place.”
Jesus Christ, this was a fucking mess. I turn away, my hand running through my hair as I try to calm myself. I want to be angry with her and blame her for her father’s omission and secrecy, but I can’t. She’s as much a pawn in this as we were. Her father tried to play us like fools, pretending he was the victim when he’d gone to the Russians in the first place. He could have gone to the Russians for weapons, for all we know.
“Did he try and get weapons?” I ask.
Cara shakes her head slowly. “I told you—I don’t know.”
My hands curl into fists to stop my fingers from shaking. Red tinges the edges of my vision. Callahan had made his debts our problem now, which put us in a vicarious position. We could have been perfectly fine with the Russians if it weren’t for him, but he’d managed to trick us into thinking he was the victim here. And his daughter…Fuck, he had the perfect innocent excuse to play this whole thing off.
How had she not known? She couldn’t be that naive. Couldn’t be that blind to what her father had planned, could she? I eye her warily. Cara stands stock still, her eyes daring me to accuse her. This isn’t the act of a woman who knew what her father had planned. She would have stopped it, especially if it meant losing her family’s business. A woman like her wouldn’t put in that much work—going to business school, balancing her father’s books—just to watch it all fail now. But I’ve known women who have lied and manipulated before.
“You’re really telling me you had no idea?” I ask quietly, prowling closer.
