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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Franco twirled his fork, mixing the sauce of his carbonara evenly. The food tasted great but eating alone in an enormous dining table tended to dampen the mood.
He gave up the pretense of eating, the utensil clink against the porcelain plate. He leaned back, sighing in boredom and annoyance.
Franco's mind was filled with Callista's proposal. He supposed she was right that merging their assets would result in more power. But he had doubts that his father would hand his seat that easily.
His fingers tapped against the mahogany table. Francisco Castellano had forged ahead and continued with his drug dealings. Franco had expected Luciano to fight back but they had been on the defensive ever since the incident at the port.
Franco scoffed. Winning used to be his goal. Callista had offered the prize herself and he only had to say 'yes'. But fuck, he couldn't even do that. He had asked for time to ponder the question.
Why was he doing this anyway?
Althea Castellano entered the dining room that caused him to bolt out from his thoughts. His mother's bob cut was sleek and shiny as she adjusted her favorite Chanel fur coat. She cast him an annoyed look before eyeing the food.
"Esther! What junk is this?" she yelled.
Franco remained quiet as his mother showered the maid with uncouth words. She hadn't tasted the food but her complaints were unending.
Franco began to wonder if his family was worth fighting for. He stood up, trudging to where the older woman was. It was time to confront her.
He nodded to the maid and she left the mother and son.
"Mother, aren't you going out? There's no need to complain," he said. He towered over the woman but Althea wasn't intimidated.
Her crimson lips stretched into a sardonic smile. "Did I ask for your opinion, child?" She shooed him away with her manicured nails. "Go and follow your father around instead of minding my business."
Althea turned to go but Franco seized her arm. She visibly swallowed in fear as Franco's grip on her shoulders tightened. "Don't you think its time for a heart to heart, Mother?"
"Get your hands off me, filthy child!" she screeched, backing away like she was on fire.
Franco clenched his jaw at the piercing pain in his chest. He took a deep breath so his voice remained level despite the tremors of emotion that sparked in his skin. "What did I ever do to you?"
