“It’s time,” he said, nodding out the window at all the cameras waiting just outside a pair of black iron gates with a C in the center. I hadn’t even noticed that we had arrived, and now all the Callahans and media were waiting on us.

Sliding the hem of my dress up, I slid the knife back into its holster only to find Liam trying to burn a hole in me with his gaze.

“I killed the last man who looked at me like that,” I said, waiting to see the disgust at my words, but only saw more lust. He was getting excited, and the last thing we needed was that in print. “For the love of God, control yourself Callahan. Your mother, the woman who whipped your ass as a child, is waiting for you.”

That did it.

“Try not to be a bitch,” he snapped as he tapped on the window, signaling the driver to open the door.

The moment it did, camera flashes assaulted us. Liam pulled me closer to him, his arm around my waist, and I used the opportunity to try to fix his sex hair. He kissed my cheek when I was done, causing reporters to throw as many questions as possible at us. I wanted to flip them off, but Liam squeezed my hand, and I smiled squeezing back. To them we looked like lovesick fools. If they only knew.

A stunningly beautiful woman, who could only be Liam’s mother, stepped forward from the clan behind her. “Liam, put some room between you and the poor girl, we are Catholic for goodness sake.”

She pulled me into a tight hug, and I knew where Neal got it from. These people needed to stop touching me.

“Mrs. Callahan, it’s such a pleasure to meet you. Liam could not stop ranting and raving about you,” I said as politely as possible.

“Please call me Evelyn, my sweetheart.” She smiled brighter than the sun. “You have no idea how long I have waited to meet you, and no wonder your father hid you away, you are so beautiful, Melody.”

I dropped my head for effect before smiling. “Thank you Mrs . . . Evelyn, but please just call me Mel. My name doesn’t fit my personality at all. I can’t carry a note.”

Nodding in pleasure as she pulled me forward. From the corner of my eye, I saw the shocked look on Liam’s face.

Just because I hated the fucking role didn’t mean I couldn’t play it.

He wasn’t the only one surprised. Declan and Neal looked at me in confusion, before looking at each other to make sure they weren’t insane. Sedric just nodded at me with approval, looking a tab bit impressed.

“Mel, these are my other two daughters, Olivia, Neal’s wife.” The Malibu Barbie, with her long gold hair and bright blue eyes glared at me but shook my hand, giving it a tight squeeze.

“Wow, you’re so beautiful,” I said, smiling.

Her eyes lit up like she had found the true meaning of Christmas. “Thanks,” she said.

Next was Coraline, the rather tall, chocolate-skinned woman with a wide smile on her face.

“Hi. I’m Coraline. I’m glad to finally met you.” She couldn’t contain herself from pulling me into yet another hug.

What the hell was up with these damn people?

“Oh my, Italian silk, very nice.” She grinned when she pulled back saying, “Oh, my God, and the shoes! There is walk-heel-ton for charity next Saturday, you should join me.”

She wants me to ruin my shoes for charity?

“Hi, Coraline.” I smiled at her. “Everyone is so nice. Thank you for welcoming me into your home. You have no idea how nervous I’ve been.”

I heard Neal hold back a cough.

Coraline grabbed on to my free arm, while Olivia just smiled, clearly finding no threat in me whatsoever. Just like the rest of them.

“Come, Melody, we will make sure the rest of the family doesn’t overwhelm you too much.” Evelyn smiled, leading me to the manor. It was the exact opposite of my home, sadly. Callahan Manor was a modern day fortress. Beyond the cream marble floors that stretched for as far as the eye could see, the double grand stair cases framed with black iron, and the engraved wooden French doors, there was nothing but forty-six thousand square feet of illegal activity. There were no statues, barely any plants, and only modern paintings. Everything was simple, crisp, and clean.

I wanted to puke. For eighty-five million, I expected more.

“I’m sorry.” I paused, her words only now catching up to me. “The rest of the family?”

“Liam wanted to make sure you weren’t overwhelmed by too many new faces at your wedding on Sunday. So he thought it would be best to have you meet everyone now.” Olivia smiled. They all smiled, as if they were talking about five or ten people.

But I knew the Callahan Clan considered between ninety to hundred people their family. My Italian line was mostly gone. I didn’t deal with that many people anywhere, with the exception of my men.

Turning around, Liam was grinning like a fucking cat with a ball of yarn, and I knew then that I should have killed him in my basement. He winked, and I was tempted to lose my cool, but I wouldn’t give him the pleasure.

“If they are as welcoming I think, I can make it, but please don’t leave me completely alone. I really wouldn’t want to insult anyone.”

Coraline smiled. Again with the fucking smiles. “Mel, you are family. We wouldn’t throw you to the wolves without giving you a spear.”

Please give me a fucking spear. I knew whose heart I wanted to throw it through.

Allowing them to pull me away farther down the boring halls and out a set of large French doors, which opened to a large grass lawn, now covered in white tents. At least a hundred people sat drinking, laughing, and stuffing their faces with food. Music roared from an old Irish band staged by the trees, and when I said old, I meant old. With full-length white beards, they played their handcrafted instruments for the crowd.

For the love of God.

“Don’t be nervous,” Evelyn said. “You’re young and beautiful. They already love you. And those who don’t will have to because you are Liam’s.”

I’m my fucking own, I wanted to yell at her. And I wasn’t nervous. I was pissed. I wanted to play whack-a-mole with all these motherfuckers heads. But instead, I just smiled and walked outside.

“Everyone this is Melody, Liam’s fiancée!” Coraline yelled at the top of her lungs.

They all stopped their dancing, singing, and drinking, as if they wanted the world to know it wasn’t just a fucking Irish stereotype, to stare at me. Then they raised their mugs and screamed:

“Cheers!”

I don’t need this shit.

But I had a part to play so I grinned. “Sláinte!”

Everyone shouted with joy, and I was motherfucking-in with the Irish clan. At least the drunk ones with dicks. The girls would be harder. I could already tell from their glares. Maybe I could tell them they were pretty and try not hold their faces underwater.

“Hi, Melody!” A group of young kids ran up to me, speaking with strong Irish accents. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought they were drunk as well. But even the Irish couldn’t be that crazy.

Crouching down to them, I smiled. “Dia duit, mo pretties beag.”⁷

Their grins almost split their faces as they began to speak in full-on Irish. Liam must have followed me, because he was being congratulated by some other male drunks. He looked surprised that I knew Irish. But he was a chauvinistic pig, who thought all I did was paint my toenails and shop. Of course I spoke Irish. My father had me learn the moment the contract was formed.

As the children pulled me toward a corner of the massive garden, each dancing around me, I pretended not to notice the women glaring at me. I would speak with them later, but now I needed to make myself look like a fucking saint. I took my shoes off and danced along with the kids, singing their Irish songs and even spinning some of them around. It made even me laugh. Don’t get me wrong, I liked kids . . . kind of, sort of. I was just sure they were annoying as fuck if you spent too much time with them. But I needed them today, so I danced.