SLICK

by Peavey Marshall

  "Franco." A large hand seized him by the shoulder. His bald head glinted under the chandelier's light. "I know you don't like your fiancé but don't make it too obvious. We need her.”

  The foyer was brightly lit, and the fireplace crackled softly from the residual embers. The sound permeated through the air as he thought of a reply. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, Father."

  Francisco tapped his son's arm, deep blue eyes burning right at his soul. "Everything is for our revenge. Remember what the Lucianos did to your sister.”

  His answer never came because Althea Castellano traipsed into the foyer. The click of her heels echoed in the room. She adjusted her dark robes, the fur hugging her neck. "We're never getting anywhere because you keep babying him like that."

  Mothers were said to have an unconditional love towards their children. But Althea was an exception to that rule. The woman had never regarded his son as one look of love or even the tiniest bit of respect. Franco was used to it. "I'm sorry, Mother. I'll do better next time.”

  "As if," she sneered.

  "Stop it, Althea." He scolded his wife, shooting her a stern glare. But Francisco's eyes mellowed, revealing the crinkles of his face due to his smile as he talked to his son. "Ignore your mother. I'm proud of you." His grip tightened on his shoulder, tilting his head downwards, so their eyes met. "Always.”

  They heard a cackle from the lone woman in the room. Francisco nodded to his son, signaling for him to go. Franco was glad to leave their presence though he hoped that his father wouldn't be too angry at his wife. Althea had a tendency to blame everything on her son.

  Franco slumped on his bed, arms cradling his head. He felt the crumpled paper on his pants, uncovering it again. He glared at the check, remembering Delilah's words about knowing a Vincent. He knew of only one Vincent: Vincent Ferrer, aka Crazy Vin. One of the capos of the Luciano family.

  Delilah's father had already cut her off, and only marriage would get her back to his good graces. The money to buy those luxury chocolates fit Franco's hypothesis perfectly.

  He tore the check, throwing them haphazardly. Once again, he questioned why Callista was friends with a murderer like Castor Luciano.

  Franco was too young to remember what had happened to his older sister. Or how she died. But they were certain that Nicholas Luciano did it. Their whole family was a fucking menace to them. They had killed his heart, his future. Until now, his throat still burned at the painful memory.

  Franco dug his fingers in his golden hair. He was going to take everything from Castor Luciano.

  Including the woman, he had always wanted.

  ~~~~

  Franco Castellano sat on the marble floor, leaning against a pillar in the northern part of the library. He had a free period, and he deemed it a good time to catch up on his English readings. St. Clement's library was spacious, the ceiling expansive and wide. It was seldom that people bumped into each other, especially in the northern part where the classics were situated. He was halfway through the book when he heard footsteps entering his sacred space.

  "Hi." He looked up, meeting the beaming face of Callista Genovese. "Do you know where the copies of Divine Comedy are?"

  The boy was aware of how long he gaped at her. He couldn't help it. It was the first time Franco has seen Callista up close. And she was by far the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen. Sunlight flowed through the gaps of the maroon curtain, making her silhouette shimmer. Her raven locks poured over her shoulders in silky, midnight waves.

  But what really captivated him was the pair of smoky eyes. It wasn't just grey. It was several shades of grey, creating a luster that was begging to be noticed.

  "Uhm..." She didn't lose her smile despite the lengthy silence. "Hey?"

  Franco cleared his throat, dissolving the stickiness that had formed. He shook away the enchantment as he stood up, marching to the next bookshelf. His fingers traced the spines of books. "Yeah. It's here."

  Callista leaned in, bringing the scent of lavender and vanilla with her. She pulled out a copy, scanning its pages for any damage.

  Franco stared at the pretty girl, indulging in it. She was in St. Clement's uniform, a long-sleeved white shirt, green checkered skirt, and a loose tie. Her forehead creased, yet it didn't impede her beauty. He wanted to say something, anything because Callista had finally noticed him. His mouth parted. He closed it a few times. Then breathed out. "Callista, I—1

  "Caly!"

  They both whirled to the source of the sound.

  Castor trudged in, wheezing as he marched in their direction. He had St. Clement's green varsity jacket, covering his white tee shirt. His hair was damp, and his shoes squeaked as he reached his best friend. His arms snaked around Callista's waist, his chin settling on her slender shoulder. "Darling, help me, please."

  Franco clenched his jaw. Castor cast a brief glance at him, eyeing him with interest before his whole attention was caught by the girl. He looked at her with devoted eyes. Franco watched the scene unfold despite the spark of anger in his heart.

  "What?" Caly asked. She attempted to turn her head, but Castor tightened his embrace.

  "Please write my lab report. I have a game now," he said, almost nonchalantly.

  Callista twisted out of his grip. "A game? Now?" She slapped the book to his chest, silver eyes spiking in irritation. "You're failing your English class. You need to read this, or you can't graduate with me next year!"

  "But..." he gasped, obviously flabbergasted. "I don't read it. I don't even read terms of agreement!”

  Callista continued glowering at him. It prompted Castor to seize the book, opening a few pages. His green eyes skimmed the book for a few seconds before his roar came. "Shit! This is a poem! I hate poems! Just let me cheat!"

  "Be quiet." Callista clamped a hand over his mouth, ceasing his vulgar complaints. "Fine! I'll help you. Meet me here later and—

  "You'll read to me?" Castor clutched Callista's hand to his, lacing their fingers together. His Adam's apple quivered, waiting with bated breath for the girl's answer.

  Callista placed a palm on Castor's jaw. "Of course."

  A huge grin broke out of Castor Luciano's face before he remembered that somebody was watching them. Taking a quick glance at Franco, he made a coughing sound. He bit his lip in an effort to stop his smile from growing, but it was still there. "Thank you, your majesty."

  He kissed her cheek, hugging her to him before leaving.

  "Why are you friends with him?" Franco blurted. His heart thundered, but it was too late to take his question back.

  Callista had a dumbfounded look. She licked her red lips. "Why not?"

  "He's dumb." Franco crossed his arms. The apprehension he previously felt had vanished. "Loud, reckless, and did I mention dumb?”

  Caly chuckled. A low, sweet sound that made him shiver. He loved her laugh.

  "Yeah. But he's sweet to me," she replied.

  Franco arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

  "Yes. If you get to know him. I promise," Callista answered. Her face was filled with nothing but assurance. "You should hang out with us sometimes.”

  The sadness that smashed through his heart was unsolicited but not surprising. Francisco Castellano had strict rules in ruling his syndicate. And those rules also applied to his son.

  'Never associate with a Luciano.'

  "Maybe," he responded, knowing that it was a lie.

  ***

  CHAPTER 10

  Blue and red neon lights filled the casino. The noises from the slot machines, the repeated clicks of coins, and the booming music completed the scene. Callista Genovese navigated her way through bodies of people, betting on different table games.

  She was about to step inside the poker area when someone seized her wrist. The yank caused Callista to knock against the sturdy body behind her. A mixture of smoke and mint hit her nostrils. She instantly knew who it was.

  "Castor," she muttered against his neck. Her McQueen red heels made it possibl
e to reach his ear. She whispered softly, tongue flicking out, articulating each word. "What a lovely surprise.”

  Castor grinned, slanting his head to murmur on her ear. "I'm glad to see you too, your majesty.”

  "What are you doing here?" she hissed, focusing on his face. Callista almost swore after taking in their closeness. She could see every twitch of his jaw and the sparkle from his hoop earring.

  Castor slid his right hand on her hip, tugging her closer to his body. Caly gritted her teeth after feeling the warmth from his fingers. The red chiffon dress she wore wasn't enough barrier for Castor and his fondness for touching her. Caly gazed at him, but he wasn't even looking at her. "Cas, I asked you a question."

  "Yeah?" he muttered, emerald eyes engrossed in something behind her.

  Callista hated to be ignored. She yanked at his white sleeve. "Cas!"

  "I'm sorry." He finally looked at her. "And about your question, do you really think I'll let you enter this place alone?"

  Her tongue darted out, wetting her red lips, and Castor didn't miss that. He lifted his hand, rough fingers caressing her tender cheeks. "Stop being so damn seductive, Callista."

  "What? I was just licking my lips. You're so—"

  Castor's eyes turned murkier. He dropped his forehead to hers. "This is exactly why I can't trust you going here alone."

  "I'm not alone. Vince is going to be with me," she answered.

  "No," he snapped. "Vince can't stop all these fools from looking at you. These fuckers should know that you're only for—”

  Somebody bumped into Castor, drowning his words, causing him to hit her much smaller form. Caly barely had time to put her hand for support with the sudden weight imposed on her. She cried out, elbows sliding on the floor.

  Castor had braced one arm on the side of her head, terminating his fall. He huffed, wide-eyed as he took in Callista's form. His eyes sharpened. The green of his irises completely evaporated as he shot up straight.

  "Who the fuck did that?" She heard him yell.

  Callista sighed, shaking off the pain in her elbow, and stood up. Castor was already fighting, throwing chairs at the culprit. He grabbed the guy's collar and landed a punch on his face. Blood spurted from the victim's nose, spraying his white shirt.

  At that moment, the security guards came. But they halted after seeing the assailant, who was none other than their boss.

  Caly knew her best friend was on a rampage, and there's no stopping him. So she opted to proceed on the poker tables, hoping to meet up with Delilah. She scoffed, "Stupid Castor.”

  ~~~~

  "You didn't wait for me."

  Callista's stormy eyes remained on her cards. She fastened her teeth on her bottom lip, head tilting as she considered her next move. She set the cards to face down, moving a stack of chips to the center. "Raise."

  "Callista Ariella!"

  The belligerent voice caught everyone's attention. It disrupted the game that several had let out frustrated sighs and soft sneers. No one was actually brave enough to confront Castor Luciano's attitude, but they were certainly thinking profanities.

  Vincent caught Callista's eyes, his mouth twitching. Caly tutted in response before facing Castor's enraged aura. She grabbed his large hand. "You're an idiot. Is fighting really the first thing in your mind when I was sprawled on the floor?"

  "But..." he spluttered, eyes wide. Castor shut his mouth, his muscles uncoiling from the recent tension. His thumb rubbed circles on Caly's hand. "I knew you were okay."

  Her eyebrow rose almost mechanically. "Is that so?"

  "Want to introduce me?" Delilah leaned over, making Callista flinch. She forgot about the girl and the reason they were in the casino in the first place.

  Callista smiled, gesturing in her best friend's direction to her left. "Delilah, this is my best friend, Castor Luciano."

  Delilah's upper lip tugged upwards. Her left hand rose, going over Caly's lap and towards Castor's seat. "It's nice to meet you."

  Castor sneered, placing his head sideways on Callista's shoulder. His gleaming green eyes met Delilah's soft blues. "I heard you are Castellano's fianceé?"

  Delilah bit her lip, hesitantly dropping her hand back to her exposed legs. She cleared her throat, waving away the flush of red on her neck and cheeks. "Yes, well."

  Caly shot her best friend a warning glare. "Del, please excuse him. He doesn't have manners."

  "Understatement," Vince inserted, taking the opportunity to lead the other players to a new table.

  Caly nodded at Vince before she continued. "They were rivals in school."

  "Oh?" The Gallo girl arched an eyebrow. Her purple lips twisted in an intriguing smirk. "You went to school together? That's surprising. But well, what do I know about Franco?"

  Her despondent tone wasn't missed by Callista. The cogs in her mind rolled faster than she would've liked. She stomped down the minuscule guilt and proceeded to absorb the information.

  Castor rolled his eyes, straightening in his seat as he became passionate about the topic. "He's a jealous shit who has a stick up his ass. You could have done better."

  Delilah's chuckles permeated the room for a second. "Unfortunately, my father didn't give me much choice."

  Callista eyed the girl, noticing the impetuous glint of malice under her long fake lashes. Delilah spoke again. "He should've chosen you instead.”

  The tiniest bit of remorse Caly had felt earlier disintegrated. She squeezed Castor's hand, knowing that his arduous complaints were coming. Callista nodded. "Of course." She leaned in closer to Del's decorated ears. "I haven't had the opportunity to tell you this before, but I know Franco well. Unlike Cas, we are amicable."

  "Really?" Her eyes widened. Delilah was very good at projecting herself as a victim.

  "I'll tell you everything he likes." Caly grinned and sweetened the pot some more. "You can also have dinner with Cas and me. I assure you, Franco will be jealous. Just like Castor, he blows up at everything related to the other family.”

  "You'll do that for me?" she asked. The wonder was rich in her voice.

  Callista resisted the desire to smirk. "What are friends for?”

  ~~~~

  "You said what?" Castor yelled when they reached the VIP room. The dark-haired man paced the floor, circling the billiard table, again and again.

  "I just asked her to dinner," Callista shrugged in indifference.

  "With Castellano!" He halted, hands encompassing the whole space. Castor's emerald eyes were blown wide. Callista almost forgot that her best friend's anger against Franco was gasoline waiting to be lit. "I doubt he'll agree to this!"

  "I can convince him."

  Shock flitted over Castor's handsome face before it twisted to one of anger. "What? Absolutely not!"

  Caly crossed her long legs. She placed an arm on her thigh, putting her palm under her chin. She regarded the man with an amused look. "Do you doubt my powers of convincing? Besides, I do need to find out more about him. One that papers and background checks cannot give.”

  "Caly!" he protested. His face crumpled in dissatisfaction.