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Contents Title Page Copyright Dedication ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE THIRTY-TWO EPILOGUE Author's Note About the Author Acknowledgments Notes Ruthless People By J. Mc Avoy First published by The Writer’s Coffee Shop, 2014 Copyright © J. All characters and events in this Book – even those sharing the same name as (or based on) real people – are entirely fictional. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Mc Avoy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000 This work is copyright. No person, brand, or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual. This Book is a work of fiction and should be read as such. ” Natasha asked as she rubbed her body against mine. The Writer’s Coffee Shop (Australia) PO Box 447 Cherrybrook NSW 2126 (USA) PO Box 2116 Waxahachie TX 75168 Paperback ISBN- 978-1-61213-319-5 E-book ISBN- 978-1-61213-320-1 A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the US Congress Library. Handing her the bottle, I leaned back, watching her pour the liquor down her throat. Cover Images: © / heckmannoleg, © / jayfish Cover Design: J. Mc Avoy This book is dedicated to those who said no, and the people who told me to ignore them. God, I was going to miss that throat but that was about it. ONE “There are four kinds of homicide: felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praiseworthy.” ~ Ambrose Bierce LIAM So, today was the day. “This is such a sad day.” She frowned when I took the bottle back. If only she would leave after our “meetings.” But there was no point kicking her out right this second. Brushing her blond hair back from her face, I thought of all the things I’d rather be doing instead of talking but had to restrain myself. Our meetings were officially over, or my mother would demand my balls and my father would hand them up to her. “Melody Nicci Giovanni,” I said, taking another swig. Most of her facial expressions were ugly, but I didn’t keep her around for her face, or her brain for that matter. It would have been a good point if it didn’t matter who my family was and what we did for a living. The Giovannis are one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful family in Italy and most of the west coast. “Arranged marriages are so circa the eighteen hundreds. My father wants an end to the rivalry between the Irish and the Italians. How can you get married to a girl you’ve never met before? So, even if she is ugly, or fat, or covered in bloody warts, I will do my duty and marry her.” Pushing her off me, I rose to my feet. Sedric, my father, had spoken of this marriage for the past twelve years. I was only fifteen and wanted to prove myself, so I was willing do anything that needed to be done to make the family proud, like a bloody idiot. I should have just let Declan marry her, but he had already hacked into his first major Swiss bank account, robbing the Russians blind. Neal was too damn old and had already found himself the perfect arm candy. I thought I had no other option, but like I said, I was a bloody idiot. I am one-quarter Italian.” Natasha laughed and rolled around in my bed. I was going to have to burn those sheets or maybe get a new bed. “Yet, you’re going to take the money anyway.” I headed to the bathroom, and when she didn’t reply, I turned back to her one last time. In my awkward years as a preteen, some older fool had thought it would be funny to push me down a flight of stairs at school. “Not even if hell froze over and my mother was six feet deep,” I replied, grabbing a towel. ” she yelled, holding the sheet to her chest as if she had any modesty to protect. “Because you are a floozy, a manky, a whore, a woman of no importance or brains with nothing to note but a good ass and a deep throat.” Walking over to her, I kissed the side of her cheek before holding on to her sweet throat. We all have our roles to play, and you have played yours. “Leg it babe, and if you think of taking anything other than the money I just gave you, I will not hesitate to kill you, sweet throat or not.” And I meant it. Our word was law in Chicago and on most of the east coast. Hearing the bedroom door open and shut, I smiled to myself before jumping in the shower. That night, Neal and Declan burned his house down, but not before beating him within an inch of his life. Your services will no longer be needed.” Letting go of her, I grabbed a few bills from my wallet before throwing them in her direction. It would be the last one until I met my future wife. I didn’t care, but it just proved that I didn’t know anything significant about her other than her birthday, February 13, 1990, and a few small facts. There were no pictures of her anywhere—no social media accounts or driver license. There were some crazy fucks in the world who didn’t understand what it meant to be the offspring of a mafia leader. It was the one thing my father had drilled into our heads since we were children. When they came back and told father what they had done, he gave them the keys to the Porsche and told me to take notes. It was the reason why I was now my father’s right-hand man instead of Neal, despite the fact th at he was older. Nothing—not even a fucking receipt with her name on it. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought she didn’t exist. Neal didn’t mind though—he was the muscle—while our cousin Declan was more behind the scenes. Rule Two: Take no prisoners and have no regrets about it. Stepping out of my bathroom, there they stood, my father, brother, and cousin, all dressed in the finest suits money could buy. “Did you read the files I sent to you, or were you too busy with your whore? ” my father asked glowering at the files on my desk. “He probably stopped when he saw no pictures.” Declan grinned from the door as Neal snickered. Let’s let the boy get dressed in peace,” she said, and I would have taken offense to the “boy” comment, but I just needed them to leave without resorting to deadly force. “As a matter of fact, I did, but I don’t give a shit where she went to school or what her favorite color is. “Those damn eyes of yours,” she mumbled, and I knew I had won. “Let us know if you need help getting dressed, sweetheart,” she added as they exited. “I am a grown man, Mother.” Her green eyes narrowed. Without one, no matter what I did, I would never gain the respect that was owed to me. The one thing I needed to know wasn’t in that file. “Don’t raise your voice at me, young man.” My mother’s green eyes narrowed, causing Neal to laugh outright. “Real grown men don’t use hookers.” At that, everyone laughed before closing the door, but I could still hear them. I would take this Melody Giovanni and form a woman fit to rule at my side. For all I know, Melody Giovanni could look like an Italian horse.” Sedric stepped in my path, standing just as tall as I was, preventing me from walking to my closet “Father—” “Have you forgotten what is at stake here? With her family’s power added to my own, I would own it all before I was thirty. ” “How—” “Do not interrupt me.” He sneered then said, “You seem to forget that the only way you are going to be head of this family is through marriage.” “There is nothing there about her I care about.” Grabbing hold of my neck, he glared. The thought of that, and what else the future held, got my cock up. “Pick up the damn folder, son.” Pulling out of his grasp, I saw Declan standing by my desk ready to hand me the folder, while Neal just stood a foot behind, ready to crawl up my fathers ass, if necessary. I fucking read it.” “Melody Nicci Giovanni: age twenty-four, born on February 13, in an unknown northern California hospital, only child of Orlando and Aviela Giovanni who both emigrated from Italy as teens. My father was pissed she wasn’t Irish for about ten seconds before he realized he had no room to talk, seeing as how my mother was a half caste. “We saw your harlot run out of here like a bat out of hell, so we figured you were getting ready.” Stepping out, Neal and Declan grinned like mad fools at their wives. “Yes, as always,” Coraline said, laughing, before giving her a hug. Only a small part of me cared if she was attractive or not. Her mother died when she was young, and since then Orlando has all but locked her away in a tower. ” my cousin’s wife yelled from the other side of the door. “Liam, stop wanking off,” Olivia, Neal’s ever-so-bold wife said. “If you care about their lives, you will get them away from me fast,” I said through my teeth. Her last name and her loyalty would get me off just fine. She was homeschooled for most of her life, until she went to a small community college in some nowhere prissy town called Cascadia in Oregon. Just fucking breadcrumbs up and down the west coast, while her father killed every rival Italian and Irish family within a hundred-mile ratio, before taking over their streets.” By the time we figured out it was them, the west coast was completely cut off to us. There had to be a limit to the boundaries an in-law could cross. Declan was quiet, calm, and paler than snow, while Coraline was loud, outgoing, and well . Thankfully, from what I was told, she already knew what her family did. I’m guessing that’s where ice skating and glitter was invented.” I waved Declan off before walking to my closet. None of our production could get in or out without being busted—the son of a bitch—and now they were working their way south, taking over the Mexican cartels. She’s still a woman like any other.” He didn’t speak but walked across the room just as three noisy women began to pound against the door. If Declan didn’t care about her so much and she wasn’t family, I would be tempted to hurt her. I didn’t have time to train her on what to expect or why my clothes may be a little bloody sometimes. Wrapping the red tie around my neck, both Declan and Neal snorted at my comment while my father stood waiting for more. Italians always had to spread their shit and put their name on everything. I straightened my tie before reaching for my gun and placing my brass knuckles in my pocket. “The first and last time I met Melody, she was skeet shooting while her father and I discussed the possibility of this contract in his office. Opening the door, my father stood waiting—correction, hovering. “I ended it,” I said once we reached the awaiting cars. “Hopefully, or I will have to get involved.” He kissed my mother back. Not once did that dark little head of hers miss, and she was nine.” My father said. He looked me up and down before nodding in approval. “Goodbye dear, we will be back in the morning.” “I know the drill. Rule Three: Just because you sell drugs for a living isn’t an excuse not to dress well. ” I said without thinking, and then answered knowingly. Let me know when you’ve met her,” she said once Neal and Declan entered their own car. My father and I rode separately while Declan and Neal rode together. “The bastard almost tripled his profits in less than a fucking year.” “He’s also somehow gotten his drugs into Valero territories—Greece, Russia, and the damn Philippines. “Here are the Giovannis’ updated finance and business records,” he said before handing me a thick folder as we walked. “Declan is getting better.” “He broke through the firewall this morning . Entering my black Audi, I skimmed through the files, knowing that the moment we started to move he would call. He has networks going through most of Eastern Europe, the little fucker,” Declan stated through the radio. We had tried to put our drugs in that side of the world for the last four years, but the Valero guarded it tighter than a father on spring break. When my phone went off, the driver simply connected it to the car Bluetooth. There were three families stronger than all the rest. The Callahan, the Giovanni, and t he fucking Valero. The Valero were nothing but snakes—no, worms crawling in the dirt eating their own shit. “Liam.” “I know,” I sighed, for the last fucking time. With this marriage we can steamroll the Valero and anyone else,” my father added again. Orlando Giovanni’s daughter was the key to every door. Most of them were Russian, some German, all thieves stealing my property and selling it as their own. “Thank God the poor bastard didn’t have a son,” Declan said. “Even after Liam marries her, which will take a few days if your mother has her way, they won’t just give us everything. ” Neal’s tone was serious, and I wanted to bust a pipe over his face. “If she isn’t up to par, I will drink until I can’t see straight. “The man’s got fucking horse shoes and a leprechaun up his arse,” I said. It may take months to make sure it is our name that strikes fear into the hearts of men.” “Liam, can you do this? Or until I can convince her to see Olivia’s plastic surgeon.” I was only half joking. That’s the only way they could have pulled it off without the Valero filling them with bullets. When I was in Mexico, I saw at least twenty of Giovanni’s men guarding underground heroin fields,” Neal said, a bit too excitedly. I wouldn’t even begin to understand the amount of science shit they need to make that work. Down there, the name Giovanni sends men running and pleading for their lives.” “Táimid ag titim ar gcúl.1 . Contents Title Page Copyright Dedication ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FOURTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTY-ONE TWENTY-TWO TWENTY-THREE TWENTY-FOUR TWENTY-FIVE TWENTY-SIX TWENTY-SEVEN TWENTY-EIGHT TWENTY-NINE THIRTY THIRTY-ONE THIRTY-TWO EPILOGUE Author's Note About the Author Acknowledgments Notes Ruthless People By J. Mc Avoy First published by The Writer’s Coffee Shop, 2014 Copyright © J. All characters and events in this Book – even those sharing the same name as (or based on) real people – are entirely fictional. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher. Mc Avoy to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her under the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000 This work is copyright. No person, brand, or corporation mentioned in this Book should be taken to have endorsed this Book nor should the events surrounding them be considered in any way factual. This Book is a work of fiction and should be read as such. ” Natasha asked as she rubbed her body against mine. The Writer’s Coffee Shop (Australia) PO Box 447 Cherrybrook NSW 2126 (USA) PO Box 2116 Waxahachie TX 75168 Paperback ISBN- 978-1-61213-319-5 E-book ISBN- 978-1-61213-320-1 A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the US Congress Library. Handing her the bottle, I leaned back, watching her pour the liquor down her throat. Cover Images: © / heckmannoleg, © / jayfish Cover Design: J. Mc Avoy This book is dedicated to those who said no, and the people who told me to ignore them. God, I was going to miss that throat but that was about it. ONE “There are four kinds of homicide: felonious, excusable, justifiable, and praiseworthy.” ~ Ambrose Bierce LIAM So, today was the day. “This is such a sad day.” She frowned when I took the bottle back. If only she would leave after our “meetings.” But there was no point kicking her out right this second. Brushing her blond hair back from her face, I thought of all the things I’d rather be doing instead of talking but had to restrain myself. Our meetings were officially over, or my mother would demand my balls and my father would hand them up to her. “Melody Nicci Giovanni,” I said, taking another swig. Most of her facial expressions were ugly, but I didn’t keep her around for her face, or her brain for that matter. It would have been a good point if it didn’t matter who my family was and what we did for a living. The Giovannis are one of the most powerful, if not the most powerful family in Italy and most of the west coast. “Arranged marriages are so circa the eighteen hundreds. My father wants an end to the rivalry between the Irish and the Italians. How can you get married to a girl you’ve never met before? So, even if she is ugly, or fat, or covered in bloody warts, I will do my duty and marry her.” Pushing her off me, I rose to my feet. Sedric, my father, had spoken of this marriage for the past twelve years. I was only fifteen and wanted to prove myself, so I was willing do anything that needed to be done to make the family proud, like a bloody idiot. I should have just let Declan marry her, but he had already hacked into his first major Swiss bank account, robbing the Russians blind. Neal was too damn old and had already found himself the perfect arm candy. I thought I had no other option, but like I said, I was a bloody idiot. I am one-quarter Italian.” Natasha laughed and rolled around in my bed. I was going to have to burn those sheets or maybe get a new bed. “Yet, you’re going to take the money anyway.” I headed to the bathroom, and when she didn’t reply, I turned back to her one last time. In my awkward years as a preteen, some older fool had thought it would be funny to push me down a flight of stairs at school. “Not even if hell froze over and my mother was six feet deep,” I replied, grabbing a towel. ” she yelled, holding the sheet to her chest as if she had any modesty to protect. “Because you are a floozy, a manky, a whore, a woman of no importance or brains with nothing to note but a good ass and a deep throat.” Walking over to her, I kissed the side of her cheek before holding on to her sweet throat. We all have our roles to play, and you have played yours. “Leg it babe, and if you think of taking anything other than the money I just gave you, I will not hesitate to kill you, sweet throat or not.” And I meant it. Our word was law in Chicago and on most of the east coast. Hearing the bedroom door open and shut, I smiled to myself before jumping in the shower. That night, Neal and Declan burned his house down, but not before beating him within an inch of his life. Your services will no longer be needed.” Letting go of her, I grabbed a few bills from my wallet before throwing them in her direction. It would be the last one until I met my future wife. I didn’t care, but it just proved that I didn’t know anything significant about her other than her birthday, February 13, 1990, and a few small facts. There were no pictures of her anywhere—no social media accounts or driver license. There were some crazy fucks in the world who didn’t understand what it meant to be the offspring of a mafia leader. It was the one thing my father had drilled into our heads since we were children. When they came back and told father what they had done, he gave them the keys to the Porsche and told me to take notes. It was the reason why I was now my father’s right-hand man instead of Neal, despite the fact th at he was older. Nothing—not even a fucking receipt with her name on it. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve thought she didn’t exist. Neal didn’t mind though—he was the muscle—while our cousin Declan was more behind the scenes. Rule Two: Take no prisoners and have no regrets about it. Stepping out of my bathroom, there they stood, my father, brother, and cousin, all dressed in the finest suits money could buy. “Did you read the files I sent to you, or were you too busy with your whore? ” my father asked glowering at the files on my desk. “He probably stopped when he saw no pictures.” Declan grinned from the door as Neal snickered. Let’s let the boy get dressed in peace,” she said, and I would have taken offense to the “boy” comment, but I just needed them to leave without resorting to deadly force. “As a matter of fact, I did, but I don’t give a shit where she went to school or what her favorite color is. “Those damn eyes of yours,” she mumbled, and I knew I had won. “Let us know if you need help getting dressed, sweetheart,” she added as they exited. “I am a grown man, Mother.” Her green eyes narrowed. Without one, no matter what I did, I would never gain the respect that was owed to me. The one thing I needed to know wasn’t in that file. “Don’t raise your voice at me, young man.” My mother’s green eyes narrowed, causing Neal to laugh outright. “Real grown men don’t use hookers.” At that, everyone laughed before closing the door, but I could still hear them. I would take this Melody Giovanni and form a woman fit to rule at my side. For all I know, Melody Giovanni could look like an Italian horse.” Sedric stepped in my path, standing just as tall as I was, preventing me from walking to my closet “Father—” “Have you forgotten what is at stake here? With her family’s power added to my own, I would own it all before I was thirty. ” “How—” “Do not interrupt me.” He sneered then said, “You seem to forget that the only way you are going to be head of this family is through marriage.” “There is nothing there about her I care about.” Grabbing hold of my neck, he glared. The thought of that, and what else the future held, got my cock up. “Pick up the damn folder, son.” Pulling out of his grasp, I saw Declan standing by my desk ready to hand me the folder, while Neal just stood a foot behind, ready to crawl up my fathers ass, if necessary. I fucking read it.” “Melody Nicci Giovanni: age twenty-four, born on February 13, in an unknown northern California hospital, only child of Orlando and Aviela Giovanni who both emigrated from Italy as teens. My father was pissed she wasn’t Irish for about ten seconds before he realized he had no room to talk, seeing as how my mother was a half caste. “We saw your harlot run out of here like a bat out of hell, so we figured you were getting ready.” Stepping out, Neal and Declan grinned like mad fools at their wives. “Yes, as always,” Coraline said, laughing, before giving her a hug. Only a small part of me cared if she was attractive or not. Her mother died when she was young, and since then Orlando has all but locked her away in a tower. ” my cousin’s wife yelled from the other side of the door. “Liam, stop wanking off,” Olivia, Neal’s ever-so-bold wife said. “If you care about their lives, you will get them away from me fast,” I said through my teeth. Her last name and her loyalty would get me off just fine. She was homeschooled for most of her life, until she went to a small community college in some nowhere prissy town called Cascadia in Oregon. Just fucking breadcrumbs up and down the west coast, while her father killed every rival Italian and Irish family within a hundred-mile ratio, before taking over their streets.” By the time we figured out it was them, the west coast was completely cut off to us. There had to be a limit to the boundaries an in-law could cross. Declan was quiet, calm, and paler than snow, while Coraline was loud, outgoing, and well . Thankfully, from what I was told, she already knew what her family did. I’m guessing that’s where ice skating and glitter was invented.” I waved Declan off before walking to my closet. None of our production could get in or out without being busted—the son of a bitch—and now they were working their way south, taking over the Mexican cartels. She’s still a woman like any other.” He didn’t speak but walked across the room just as three noisy women began to pound against the door. If Declan didn’t care about her so much and she wasn’t family, I would be tempted to hurt her. I didn’t have time to train her on what to expect or why my clothes may be a little bloody sometimes. Wrapping the red tie around my neck, both Declan and Neal snorted at my comment while my father stood waiting for more. Italians always had to spread their shit and put their name on everything. I straightened my tie before reaching for my gun and placing my brass knuckles in my pocket. “The first and last time I met Melody, she was skeet shooting while her father and I discussed the possibility of this contract in his office. Opening the door, my father stood waiting—correction, hovering. “I ended it,” I said once we reached the awaiting cars. “Hopefully, or I will have to get involved.” He kissed my mother back. Not once did that dark little head of hers miss, and she was nine.” My father said. He looked me up and down before nodding in approval. “Goodbye dear, we will be back in the morning.” “I know the drill. Rule Three: Just because you sell drugs for a living isn’t an excuse not to dress well. ” I said without thinking, and then answered knowingly. Let me know when you’ve met her,” she said once Neal and Declan entered their own car. My father and I rode separately while Declan and Neal rode together. “The bastard almost tripled his profits in less than a fucking year.” “He’s also somehow gotten his drugs into Valero territories—Greece, Russia, and the damn Philippines. “Here are the Giovannis’ updated finance and business records,” he said before handing me a thick folder as we walked. “Declan is getting better.” “He broke through the firewall this morning . Entering my black Audi, I skimmed through the files, knowing that the moment we started to move he would call. He has networks going through most of Eastern Europe, the little fucker,” Declan stated through the radio. We had tried to put our drugs in that side of the world for the last four years, but the Valero guarded it tighter than a father on spring break. When my phone went off, the driver simply connected it to the car Bluetooth. There were three families stronger than all the rest. The Callahan, the Giovanni, and t he fucking Valero. The Valero were nothing but snakes—no, worms crawling in the dirt eating their own shit. “Liam.” “I know,” I sighed, for the last fucking time. With this marriage we can steamroll the Valero and anyone else,” my father added again. Orlando Giovanni’s daughter was the key to every door. Most of them were Russian, some German, all thieves stealing my property and selling it as their own. “Thank God the poor bastard didn’t have a son,” Declan said. “Even after Liam marries her, which will take a few days if your mother has her way, they won’t just give us everything. ” Neal’s tone was serious, and I wanted to bust a pipe over his face. “If she isn’t up to par, I will drink until I can’t see straight. “The man’s got fucking horse shoes and a leprechaun up his arse,” I said. It may take months to make sure it is our name that strikes fear into the hearts of men.” “Liam, can you do this? Or until I can convince her to see Olivia’s plastic surgeon.” I was only half joking. That’s the only way they could have pulled it off without the Valero filling them with bullets. When I was in Mexico, I saw at least twenty of Giovanni’s men guarding underground heroin fields,” Neal said, a bit too excitedly. I wouldn’t even begin to understand the amount of science shit they need to make that work. Down there, the name Giovanni sends men running and pleading for their lives.” “Táimid ag titim ar gcúl.1 .

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