Callista Genovese never wanted to be part of the family business. She enjoyed the anonymity of being a teacher in a land where she was not the killer queen. But like always, family tends to ruin everything.
Callista was dragged back to New York with...
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The sun was in its precipice that Castor Luciano chose to stay inside the air-conditioned Ferrari. The cold settled his boiling thoughts over the conversation he had with Callista.
Blurting out his deep-seated feelings like it was nothing but a high school crush unnerved him to no end. He could still see the way her shimmering grey eyes widened before it turned into a pale gloomy color. Callista had pushed him away in complete silence. Fuck. He had regretted it so much. He should have done better.
And now, he had scared his best friend away. Maybe forever.
Castor was waiting for Marcus and the longer he waited, the harsher his thoughts were.
He had ordered the capo to threaten Gallo's investors. Marcus Benedict's specialty was blackmail. His stocky build, burly arms and the 6'9 height all earned him a dangerous disposition. Ever since Nicholas Luciano made him the capo for the arms industry, everyone had been wary. His name alone caused people to shiver in fear.
The irritation of waiting continued to build up. "Are you okay, boss?" Dos muttered from the front seat.
Castor ignored him. He set his eyes to the windows. A man fidgeted on the side of the street. His hands shook as he accepted a roll of money from a lithe, tanned girl.
"What the hell?" Castor cussed, darting out from the car. He heard Dos' calling him but he didn't stop.
The girl saw him and scampered off while the man looked around in desperation. He caught sight of Castor from the other street and scrambled to run away.
The Luciano's heir was faster, seizing his arm. "Hey!"
"Get off me!" He wrenched his arm but Castor punched his stomach. The man doubled over as Dos' came huffing at them. Castor gestured his head to the narrow alley. "Chase the girl."
Castor's grip on the man's arm tightened. His free hand searched his pockets. He yanked a plastic packet of white powder. "She sold you drugs?"
He only grunted. Castor hit him again, slamming him against the wall. "Who is she?"
The man coughed, shaking his head. "I-I don't know. I met her at a party and... she set this meeting."
"Do you know who's territory you are in?" Castor grated out. His fingers dig into the man's shoulder. "Do you?"
When the man whimpered, the Luciano's heir lost it. He released him, his knees buckling on the filthy street and repeatedly kicked his head. The cracking sound and the thick blood should have made him stop. But he didn't.
