SLICK

by Peavey Marshall

  "Okay! Fine!" Victoria's eyes popped open. "I mean, it's my pleasure to serve you?"

  "Oh, yes. It is."

  ~~~~

  Victoria Salinas swirled her cookies and cream milkshake, occasionally glancing at the woman in front of her. She desperately prayed Callista would not make her wear a ninja suit or ask her to infiltrate the bank. She was certain she'd faint from the pressure.

  "Caly, hurry up! What if the police saw you with me?" Tori complained, fixing her black hair to hide her face from the passersby.

  "You're ridiculous." Callista's eyes never left the screen of her iPhone. Her fingers were busy. "I want you to use these cards, alright? Make sure there's no trace.”

  "That's a crime!" Tori exclaimed with a horrific gasp. Her phone repeatedly clinked from the notifications.

  Callista continued sending her the necessary links. "I also want you to work as an analyst for Gallo's hedge fund company. There's an open spot after one of their IT experts quite mysteriously. Send me a list of their investors after two weeks. Got it?"

  "Wait, wait!" Victoria stooped her head down. She ignored the loose button of her sleeves and focused on the fact that she was in public with Callista Genovese. And they were discussing infiltration. "Can you lower your voice? Please!"

  "Don't worry, girl. I'll buy you milkshakes for a month," Callista said, putting an end to their conversation.

  "Really?" Tori's thoughts completely flew away.

  "I never lie." Caly grinned as she got what she wanted. "Besides, all those secrets... all those juicy details... don't you just want to squeeze them all out?"

  There were two things she liked in this world: milkshakes and digging into people's dirt. Her friendship with Callista started because of blackmail. She initially thought it wouldn't last, but the Genovese girl was a charmer. Her words, her company, and the way she handled other people. In addition, Caly had treated her with respect without the usual eyebrow quirks and patronizing smiles she had always received.

  For the first time, Tori admired someone who was part of the upper society.

  Tori could only sigh. The thought of prison bars still triggers her anxiety but one milkshake (and maybe Mallorie's chocolate cake) and the fact that she was helping a friend tempered her worries.

  Her veneration for the queen had brought her to so much trouble.

  ~~~~

  Callista fell horizontally on the loveseat in the living room as tiredness seeped into her body. Wrenching the cap from her head, her wild tresses flowed behind her. She opened her phone and texted Delilah Gallo. They were friends now, or rather, they needed to be.

  She asked if she was okay, followed up with an invitation to hang out soon. Her phone beeped after a few seconds, and Delilah sent a lot of angry emoticons. Callista cursed on her head, fretful that she did something wrong to fuck up her plan.

  'Franco is a bastard. Such an a-hole.'

  Caly almost sighed in relief. She texted back.

  'Tell me when ur free. We can talk about his hairy ass.'4

  Delilah replied with a sparkling heart, and Caly felt at ease.

  Truth be told, Callista was happy to talk shit about Franco Castellano. The intimidation she had felt at that party was something real. Something she had only felt when she got kidnapped.

  She decided to open her Twitter account, and the fear was back. There were screenshots of what had happened in the park and at the party. The shot of the park was far and blurry, and the one at the party was dark. However, it didn't impede the onslaught of gossips. Several tweets mentioned a burgeoning romance between Callista and Franco.

  "Shit," Caly cussed, swiping for more tweets. She was thankful for those who didn't forget that Franco Castellano was engaged.

  Still, she was fucked. Delilah might be a spoiled, rich brat, but she wasn't entirely stupid. Her new friend clinging to her fiancé, would tend to give her doubts. She shook her head, promising herself not to get involve with Franco anymore.

  Callista sighed and texted Castor her new plan. He replied with a black heart.

  'What's dis?'

  'my heart, ofc.'

  Seriously?

  "Caly?" A shout came from the doorway.

  Callista shot up from her seat, finding the source of her father's voice. She saw him enter and marched his way to her. She crossed her legs, scanning her father's thoughtful gaze. "You want something?"

  "There's a charity event I want you to attend." Caesar Genovese reached inside his inside pocket, pulling out a beige invitation. The gigantic red ribbon becomes an eye-catcher.

  Callista received the invitation, noting its wafting scent of roses. She released the ribbon, and the intricate word 'Valentine's Charity Party' was written. "Really, Dad? Valentine's charity party?”

  "Just make a hefty donation, then go." He peeled off his blue outer jacket, letting it hang on the chair. "I'm the governor. It's insulting not to donate to... what is that for again?”

  "Home for the aged," Caly provided. The girl chuckled under breath, shaking her head. "Well, look at that, Daddy. At least you're secured for the future.”

  Caesar let out a kind-hearted laugh. "Wow. I feel so loved."

  Caly smiled.

  ***

  CHAPTER 7

  Vincent Ferrer had no qualms in being a capo for the Luciano family. His proclivity to gambling and the sick urge to watch people stake their assets and their whole life made his job enjoyable. Not to mention that the casino let him sleep in piles of money. But like other things, it had its downs.

  Like the second in command telling him to meet after ten minutes.

  Ten minutes!

  Vince scoffed, searching for his pants in the hotel room he had rented for the night. He couldn't even find his pants in ten minutes. He truly considered going without but thought better of it. Castor would beat him to shit.

  He finally spotted his pants under some fine ass he had pounded last night. Reaching out, he yanked it from under the woman. He heard a disgruntled groan, but he wasn't certain as he dashed out after donning a shirt, grabbing his gun and phone.

  "Vince, should we tell Castor about Dalton?" Billy asked, frowning in concern. He rubbed a hand over his shaved head.

  They slid into the blue Chevrolet, Vincent stepping on the gas. His mind was filled with thoughts of Dalton and the way he had simply disappeared last night.

  "I think we will get worse if we lie to him. He can check the log himself." Vince gestured his head to the notebook with a weathered black cover.

  They parked outside of a café near Astoria Park. Vincent grabbed the notebook and strutted inside the café, Billy, on his tail. He spotted Castor on the corner, sipping from a coffee cup while Dos stood near the booth. His watchful gaze remained on the newcomers as they trudged to their boss.

  Vince usually made his deposits on Luciano's mansion in Queens. It was rare for Castor to ask him to meet outside. He hoped it wasn't because of Dalton. Word couldn't travel that fast.

  "Cas," he muttered, taking a seat in front of him.

  "So, you don't have money to buy a watch?" Castor set down the steaming mug. He snatched the notebook from Vince's grasp and began flicking his eyes on its pages. Despite his young appearance, Castor exuded confidence, the kind of aura which would curl your doubts on his ability to lead.

  Vince cleared his throat. His eyes took in the comfy sofas and sniff the faint scent of a newly brewed coffee. "Yeah. I kind of broke it yesterday."

  Castor remained quiet. His fingers tapped on the wooden edge of the coffee table. After a while, he looked up. "Well, it looks like you don't just need a new watch, maybe an accountant too?"

  Vincent licked his lips, catching his breath. "Well, last night... it was busy.”

  "Busy," Cas echoed. He straightened on his seat, his thumb and forefinger rubbing together against his chin. Vince noticed the portentous rings on his fingers. It changes sometimes, but its meaning remained. It's always about anarchy, chaos, riot.

  "
What happened, Vincent? Where's my $300,000?" His voice had a daring lilt, a perfect eyebrow arching.

  "I didn't check his status, and he slipped away, but I will find him." Vincent met his boss's eyes. He had been in the family for ten years, and all of that was thanks to his ability to navigate his bosses' minds. Their characters had made him calculate his words. Making excuses was unacceptable. The sooner you admit your mistake, the faster you could correct it.

  Castor's jaw clenched. "One week Vince. I better see that money, or I'll skin you alive.”

  Vince didn't need to be told twice. Castor was lenient compared to their head, and he wasn't eager to meet Nicholas Luciano. "Of course. I can go now."

  "Wait." Cas held up a finger. He glanced at Dos, who looked out of place with his white Oxford shirt hastily tucked into his brown pants. "You and Billy go out."

  When their two companions were outside, Vince returned his attention to his boss. "Is he still learning?"

  "Yeah."

  "What? Get Moran back. He can protect you better," Vince suggested, his tone a pitch higher.

  "You forget that Dos is Moran's son. He'll get better."

  "After what? A century?" Vincent held up a hand and ordered a cake. He ignored Castor's probing gaze. Asking their partners to leave meant that he wanted to talk about a personal matter. And he couldn't leave without eating cake. That won't do. "So, what do you want?"

  "I want you to meet Callista," he said.

  "Callista?" The moment he received Castor's odious glare, he immediately swallowed. "I mean, her majesty? She's back?”

  "Just give her what she wants."

  Before he could stop himself, Vince smirked. "Whatever she wants?”

  Castor kicked him on the shin, green eyes darkening like a brewing storm. The container of sugar and the pot of succulents wobbled on the furnished table. Vincent gritted his teeth as the sharp throb entered his body. "Fuck. Really? I was joking!"

  Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because he dug the heel of his boot deeper. Castor pinned his leg on the booth's chair.

  "I'm sorry!"

  Vince should've known better than to joke around with Callista Genovese. He understood now why Castor wasn't that furious about Dalton. "Hey! Come on. I was just asking what the limits are. What if she asks me to kill someone or..."

  His words trailed off when the waitress placed the cake he had ordered. Castor still had him immobilized so he couldn't feast on his caramel cake. "Cas, seriously?"

  It was during times like this that Vincent would realize why Nicholas Luciano let his son handle the family business.

  Castor pulled back despite the unpleasant snarl on his lips. He stood up, donning on his dark coat, and leaned into him. "Tell me what she wants."

  His boss grabbed the bread knife and stabbed the wooden table with it, shaking the furniture in the process. "We are friends, Vincent, but when it comes to her, there are no jokes.”

  Well, shit.

  ~~~~

  Vincent had quarreled with himself over what to do next. Obviously, catering Callista was more important, but so was the business. Vince huffed in annoyance. This dilemma should be Castor's, not his.

  Asshole.

  But like an angel, Callista had texted him that they could meet in the evening. Unfortunately for Dalton, his days of running were over.

  "So, let me get this straight." Vince paced back and forth as Dalton was held by Billy and Yan. The man's bruises were turning purple. Blood drop on his striped shirt as he struggled to stay upright. "You bet your land and your house knowing you cannot uphold that deal? Haven't you read gambling 101?"

  "There isn't a book like that," Yan interjected, dreadlocks swaying as their prisoner struggled from their grasps.

  "Shut up. Just..." Vince marched up to the man and seized his hair, tilting his head until he could see his frantic eyes. "Just give me three hundred thousand, and all these will go away!"

  "I-I don't have money...left..." Dalton wheezed, snot and blood tangled in between his nose and mouth.

  Vincent's lips curled up in clear repugnance. He stepped back. "Yet, you sat on the table! How can you play when you know you can't pay?"

  "That rhymed," Yan muttered again.

  Billy glared at his companion while Vince gestured to slice his neck. The capo's fist tightened while he thought of how to get the money. Things didn't get chaotic like this because his people would always check if a customer had the means to pay. But this time, they had missed Dalton.

  Fuck. He clicked his tongue, smirking as he found the answer. "Do you have death insurance?”

  "W-what...?"

  Billy gave Dalton a backhand. "Answer him!"

  "Yes...y-yes. It's...m-maybe a hundred."

  "Together with the land and house, you're set." Vince put his hands on his hips. His head tilted to the side. "Let's make it accidental."

  "W-what?"

  "Pal, you do know what death insurance is, right?" Billy clamped a huge hand on his neck.

  Yan sighed for everyone to hear. "You kind of need to die.”

  ~~~~

  Vincent whistled when he saw Callista Genovese in a tight red evening dress. Her delicious curves were a spectacle for his eyes to devour. He put his hands on his pockets. "Wow. You didn't have to dress up for me."

  Caly's laughter filled the empty foyer. She sat on the last step of the staircase, adjusting the red straps of her pumps. Her eyes met Vince's. "Mi dispiace? Why should I dress up for you?"

  "Why not?" Vince folded his arms.

  "Oh, Vincent!" she chuckled. "That moment you sneezed when we were eating noodles causing it to exit in your nostrils? Sorry, Vince, but that was awful. Definitely a turn-off.”

  The man gaped at her; mortification colored his hazel eyes. Callista had the tendency to bring out secrets just for the fun of looking at your horrified mien. Vince knew that. "Do you have to throw that to my face every time?"

  Callista smiled and stood up, running a palm over her dress. She trudged to him, leaning in for a hug when Vince took a step back. "Woah... I don't think so."

  Caly's smile vanished. Her pewter colored eyes searched his face for a reason for his aloofness. "Did Castor say something? Ignore him."

  "You know him," Vincent replied.

  "What? That boy..." She rummaged through her purse, a determined look on her visage. Vince knew she was about to call Castor, and that sent alarm bells on his mind. He had just fixed a mistake, and he actually needed Cas to be in an agreeable temper.

  "No, Caly. It's okay." Callista didn't stop. She typed in her password before Vincent's arm darted out to grip her wrist. "Stop it."

  Callista jerked her arm sharply, causing her bun to unravel, her ebony hair pouring over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed into hard slits, probably thinking of Vincent's insolence to touch her. "Let me be. His controlling attitude is unacceptable."

  "Caly, it's not like that!" He tried to explain, his words laced with calmness.

  "What are you talking about?" Her shaped eyebrows furrowed in question. Callista studied his face as she waited for an answer.