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 pounding in his ears continued in time with the blaring basses of the bar. It was unnecessarily loud that Castor Luciano was tempted to throw a grenade. He sighed and opted to pour another glass of bourbon. The amber liquid sloshed against the block of ice he had placed before.
The drink burned his throat, ripping his attention away from the speakers. Castor loved parties. The heart-pumping music, the rush of alcohol in the blood, and the people getting loose without a care in the world. It made him forget his problems. Everything goes away at parties.
But lately, Castor hadn't been satisfied. The parties were repetitive. The alcohol was bland. The noise was irritating.
What he wanted to do was go home, have dinner, insult Vince a little bit, and curl up in his Egyptian sheets. Something he needed every time he came home with blood on his hands.
Castor wasn't complaining about his family. He had a great one even if they were walking on a precipitous ledge. But what he desired was a partner. Someone who understood him but wasn't afraid to reprimand him. Someone like Callista.
The three years he had spent without her was torture. It made him realize that he couldn't live without her. It was the first reason he confessed his feelings. The second one being that Franco Castellano hovered around her.
For thirteen years, he had stayed as Callista's best friend. And they were the best years of his life. But not anymore. He wanted more. So much more.
So Castor decided to put everything on the line. Even their friendship. He was willing to ruin everything they have for a chance of a lifetime with her. It's All in.
Callista strolled in as he looked up. His best friend was wearing an emerald spaghetti strap dress with a deep v on the front, emphasizing her ample cleavage. Castor felt his blood ignite.
Their eyes met and Caly blinked. She bit her lip before she sauntered towards him. Her long gold tassel earrings swaying against her straight raven locks. She sat to his left. One foot away from him in the dark corner as she placed her purse on the table.
"You look gorgeous, your majesty," he muttered. Cas was thankful that she didn't turn away despite his fervid stare. "What do you wanna drink?"
"Whatever you're having." She smiled, grey eyes scanning her best friend's form. He was wearing a black turtleneck, dark pants, and maroon blazer. "You look good too so why are you in this lonely corner?"
"Where am I supposed to be?" He slid a glass towards her.
"In a VIP room." Caly sipped at her drink, her tongue darting out to lick the excess from her red lips. "Getting blow jobs."
Cas' laughter echoed in their small corner. "I'm not in the mood." He tilted his head, green eyes twinkling as his thumb stroked his bottom lip. "Unless of course, you're offering?"
