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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Franco watched with a smirk as Callista complained about his brother's lateness. He looked around to see crushed flowers and tumbling chairs. The strongest people remained standing, waiting for the next action.
He looked at his father.
The man was panting, his good hand clutching at the pain on his side. He tried to stand and winced in the process.
Franco clutched at his gun tighter.
He could end this.
"Franco!"
"Stay away!" Franco swallowed the lump on his throat.
He had completely foregone their plan. But he had no regrets. He didn't want Callista to make the sacrifice that he should have done long ago.
Franco had the nerve to question his mother's silence but he was the same. He had tolerated his father for years. All because the man had shown him a little bit of kindness.
'I'm proud of you. Always.'
Those were the words that he held close to his heart as Benjamin put scars on his body.
Those were the words that lifted him when Elena died helplessly.
Those were the words that made him strong enough to take on the world.
A father's words to his son.
Lies.
"Franco..." Castor's concern tore through his memories.
"Go! Take care of the crowd and don't interfere."
"Hey!" His brother yelled as his green eyes locked with his. "Whatever you do," he said. "Make sure you don't regret it."
"I won't." He nodded.
Franco focused on his father and raised the gun to his head.
The man chuckled as he managed to stand up. He flinched as he took a deep breath. His ribs must be broken. "Son, you can't even go through your sham wedding."
"I'm doing the right thing," he said.
"Really? Then, prove it!"
Franco dug the gun to his father's head. "I will!"
"Do it!"
He gritted as angry tears fell from his eyes.
It was so easy.
One pull and it's the end.
'You know I'm proud of you'
He threw the gun in frustration, yanking at his hair. He was a coward. He wasn't even that good of a father. He had more fun with Cas and Caly than he had with his own family.
And yet, he couldn't kill him.
Fucking joke.
"It's okay, son."
Franco looked up to see his mother picking up the Glock. Terror seized him. "Mother, what are you doing?"
Althea ignored him and turned to his father. Her grip shook. "Your son is too good but I'm not."
"Mother!"
She screamed and shot his husband twice. "Die! You monster!"
Franco's ears buzzed. It took him a minute to take in the scene. His father clutched a hand at his wounded neck. He coughed. His body twitched. Blood spurted from his mouth in short bursts.
Franco realized that he was laughing.
And that laugh would forever haunt him.
He thought it was over but Althea Castellano wasn't finished. She stumbled backward, hands shaking.
She placed the gun against her temple.
Franco froze at her action. Fresh tears ran down his cheek. "N-no. Mother, you don't have to do that!"
Althea stepped farther from him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Franco." She cried, her voice cracked. "This is my fault! This is all my fault! You're right! I am a coward! I stayed quiet for years!"
"P-please... don't do this!!
"It's too late for me!" She shook her head. "But you... you go and be with your real family!"
His heart squeezed with pain. His mind could barely keep up with the situation.
"I'm really s-sorry! I'm sorry for not being a good mother! Maybe in another life... m-maybe... maybe we can be a proper family..."
