"Not once did I listen to you, Castor, so I won't start now. And I need you to do a different job for me." Callista sat upright, flicking her midnight hair over her shoulder. She ignored the shivers brought upon by the air-conditioner. "Tori already sent me a list of the Gallo's investors. Do you know what to do?"
Castor sat beside her. He rubbed his nape, dark hair falling on his forehead as it escaped its gelled style. "Am I allowed to do everything?"
"The main priority is for them to leave the Gallos. Threats are fine. They don't belong here anyway." Caly's head fell back on the red sofa. "It's better if you have leverage, so I also asked Tori to dig deeper."
"I have my own sources, Callista." He grated out.
Caly glanced at him. She noticed his puckered eyebrows and the rigid set of his jaw. She sighed, moving closer to Castor's heat. The guy grunted in protest, remaining obstinate despite the girl's attempts to console him. Callista pressed her body to his. "Don't be mad," she whispered.
"You've seen me mad. This," he gestured to his face. "...is not mad."
"Fine. You're irritated." Callista reached up, stroking the underside of his jaw. He finally looked at her, green clashing with grey. "Don't be. This is just working as usual."
Castor grinned. He ran his fingers through her raven mane, massaging her scalp. He watched mesmerized as she leaned back to get more of his touch, her long, elegant neck sparkling under the light bulbs. "I see you like this."
Caly flushed. She swallowed, hiding her face on his chest, sniffing the light odor of mint. "I do."
The man continued his ministrations on her hair, enjoying her shallow breaths. "If the Gallos had chosen me, I wonder what would happen."
She smirked against his shirt, climbing on his lap that made Castor's breath hitch. "This is child's play." Mirroring his actions, she played with short hairs on his nape. "If it was your wedding, I'm sabotaging, well, that's what I consider hard work.”
Cas chuckled softly. He licked his lips in apprehension. "I would have refused anyway. I believe marriage is not supposed to be political. It's love.”
Shock crawled to her face. "You... believe in that?"
He curled a thick strand around his fingers, staring at it to avoid Callista's questioning eyes. "Of course."
Caly had a gleaming smile. She noticed Cas' was uncomfortable with the topic. But to her, it made him looked endearing. She pressed a kiss to his cheek. "You're adorable.”
"Adorable?" Castor growled. His face turned murky as he pushed her down. She squealed in surprise, letting him settle between her legs. Cas held her wrists together, getting revenge by tickling her sides until they were laughing together.
Callista tried to fight him, wriggling under his large form despite the chuckles spilling freely from her plump lips. She wheezed, head falling on the couch. "Okay, okay. I give up."
"I'm not adorable, your majesty." He breathed out, his mouth blowing hot air to Caly's ear. Their bodies compressed together, every gap filled by each other's body. He kissed her neck, softly at first and then with more force. His teeth bit at her tender skin, sucking and licking at the spot until a mark was left.
Caly shuddered at the feeling of his searing lips. She scrunched her eyes close, collecting her dispersed concentration before it completely vanished from the licks that Castor was giving her. She yanked his hair, caging her palms on both sides of his cheeks. "Cas?”
The green of his irises was just a sliver now. Castor clenched his jaw, his fingers under her chin. "I love you.”
What?
***
CHAPTER 11
Foreign and domestic guests continued pouring in Castle. The golden floor and shimmering ceiling screamed luxury to anyone who entered. It was the top hotel in New York known for its opulent furniture and a variety of rare alcoholic drinks. So when people get in, they're probably shitting money.
Callista Genovese trailed after a group of tourists. She had asked Mallorie for information about her boss, which was none other than the archangel, Franco Castellano. Her promise to Delilah to invite him over dinner gave her this trouble. Initially, Callista desired to ask the guy by text, but she was certain he would blow her off. Inviting him in person seemed to be the safest way.
She saw him talking to a man in a pristine gray suit. He looked every bit a businessman. On the other hand, Franco had casual attire. He had an off-white Givenchy jumper and white pants. He looked immaculate that Callista gritted her teeth in anger. White was the man's color, but it didn't fit his personality at all.
Callista strode to them, her black Louboutins clicking against the marble. She wore her Balmain cropped turtleneck sweater. The pink cashmere sweater blended well with her black designer, skinny jeans. She had her large hoop earrings, her raven locks in a high ponytail. Her outfit blended with the others, not too simple but not exaggerated either.
"Hello!" She greeted with an enormous smile.
Franco's icy-blue eyes faltered, vexation flickering over his handsome face. He pushed back his golden hair, lips curling into a wide smile. "It's nice seeing you here, Miss Genovese."
"Likewise," Callista replied. She swiveled to the other man, who appeared rattled at the sudden switch of the conversation. "Hi!"
"This is Callista Genovese. They own Starix." Franco gestured to the girl. He nodded to the older man. "This is Mr. Salem Khan. One of our potential investors."
Mr. Khan adjusted his round glasses, scrutinizing the girl. He held out his hand. "Ah, I've heard about you."
Caly accepted his handshake. "I apologize for interrupting your conversation. I didn't want to lose the opportunity to invite Franco to dinner. I haven't seen him lately."
Franco sent a poisonous glower towards the girl. His jaw was twitching Caly's crimson lips yet only stretched wider. Callista knew he wouldn't be able to refuse in front of an audience.
"Of course, Miss. It's my pleasure." Franco shoved his hands inside his pockets, hiding the evidence of his wrath.
"Well, I better leave you two to talk." He had a genial smile as his small eyes flitted between the young ones. Khan tapped Franco's shoulder. "It was nice talking to you, Mr. Castellano. But you have a beautiful girl waiting for you. We will talk again."
Caly frowned at Khan's insinuation. She bit her bottom lip and followed the older man to the exit, praying that Franco didn't catch on. But he did. Strong fingers seized her arm, hauling her back.
"Not so fast, Callista," he whispered, the threatening tone mixing well with the sleekness of his voice. It was the first time he had said her name, and she liked it. Damn it.
Callista had no choice but to let herself be dragged by Franco. Making a scene was troublesome for both of them. He shoved her inside the elevator, glaring at the employee to get out. The hum of the elevator moving upwards pervaded the air. Caly filled the silence, intending to finish their unsolicited discussion. "What do you want?"
"You're crazy. I'm not having dinner with you," he responded, eyes fixed forward.
"You already agreed," Caly smirked, tilting her head to the side. Her deviousness oozed out as natural as breathing did. "Should I call Mr. Khan then?"
Franco returned her zealous stare, studying her with his own calculating gaze. "You are a bitch, aren't you?"
She shrugged. "It's just dinner."
"With Luciano?" He sneered. Franco inserted his hands inside his pockets, reverting his stare back to the door. "Trust me. It's gonna be a bloody dinner."
A soft chuckle trickled out of Caly's mouth. Castor had been peevish too, but she didn't realize how much the two loathed each other. Their hate bordered on ridiculous. "That's not gonna hap—
The elevator halted with numerous abrupt jolts. Callista lost her balance, stumbling against Franco. Smelling his expensive spicy perfume made him remember the last time she was this close to a male body. I love you.
Caly spun around, standing upright while steadying her rapid heartbeat. Her brows puckered at the doors. "Why is it still close?”<
br />
Franco trudged to the elevator doors. His fingers pried it open but to no avail. He hissed, shaking his hand in pain.
"Are you okay?" she asked, acting on instinct.
But Callista received no response. She berated herself for even asking that question, for being somewhat concerned. Franco was busy texting, deliberately snubbing her presence. God, how she hated that.
She clicked her tongue, wanting to mend her tattered pride. "Ah, maybe I should tweet the fact that Castle has shitty elevators.”
Franco snapped his gaze to hers. "Don't you dare. I'm fixing the problem now."
Caly rolled her eyes. "And? How can you assure people that this won't happen again?"
"This does not happen!" He roared, forgetting his previous agenda on his phone. Franco stomped nearer, glowering at the girl. "It's only when I'm with you!"
"Excuse me?" Caly scoffed, prodding a finger on Franco's shoulder, forcing him away. "You're lucky to be in my presence.”
"Now, now... don't joke, Miss Genovese." He grinned. His upper lip twisting to let out a roguish smile. "Our encounters always end up in a catastrophe. You scratched me. Remember?"
Caly sneered. "That wasn't even at full strength!”
"You shoved a drunken girl towards me," he yelled.
"She's your fianceé!”
"You handcuffed yourself to me!”
"That wasn't my fault!"
Callista wheezed, courtesy of their screaming match. She barely perceived how close her face was to Franco's. She began to feel conscious of their proximity that her spiky retort died on her tongue. Franco, too was breathing heavily. His ocean blue eyes blinked a few times before their gazes locked on each other.
"My point is..." Franco gulped hard, his smooth voice quieter than usual. "...you and I..." He gestured to the space between them. "...is a disaster.”
"That is not—"
All of a sudden, the light went out. Callista screamed in terror, reaching out for the closest thing she could get her hands on, which unfortunately was the icy Castellano heir. Her eyes scrunched tight, her heart thundering in distress. She was grateful for the other person's warmth.
"What are you...?" he whispered in shock. Franco smelled roses from the way she was wrapped around him.
Then light flooded the small space again. Caly felt it return. Her eyelids fluttered open, meeting Franco's inquisitive blue eyes. She staggered backward. Her cheeks burning in humiliation. Damn it. She was so childish for being terrified of dark, enclosed spaces. How she wished she could overcome her trauma in a snap.
Callista cleared her throat and crossed her arms. She glanced at the guy, cringing at the intensity of his gaze. She felt exposed.
Franco raised an eyebrow. "Are you okay?"
She was saved from answering the question when the elevator doors finally opened. Callista walked out, frowning at the large living room that welcomed her. It was separated by glass from where she stood, but Caly knew the inside was as beautiful. "This whole floor is yours?"
"What do I own a hotel for if I can't have my own floor?" he answered rather smugly. Franco entered his password, and the glass doors parted for him. He glimpsed at her. "Do you want anything to drink?"
Callista questioned his motives. She wondered if he was taking advantage now that her shields were down. But she also knew how accommodating their family was. "Just water."
Franco disappeared down the hall while Caly sat on a white sofa. Everything was of different shades of white. It was bright even if the balcony was closed. Only the wooden furniture gave a tiny bit of color to the place. Callista chuckled. Castor loved black, and Franco preferred white. They were genuine opposites.
"Here." Franco set a pitcher on the wooden table beside the vase of white roses.
The girl stood up, immediately filling her glass. The sooner she finished, the faster she could depart Franco's territory. The glass was halfway to her lips when she saw the elevator doors open, and Delilah Gallo stepped out. Caly dropped down to her knees, hiding behind the sofa. "Shit.”
Franco smirked at her. Amusement colored his face as he looked at her crouched form. "What are you doing?"
"She can't see me here!" She hissed in terror. "Delilah's jealous enough as it is."
The man sighed, walking to the entrance. Callista couldn't hear their conversation, but she hoped Delilah wouldn't stay long. She took off her shoes, crawling on her hands and feet towards the area that was hidden from the visitor's sight.
Caly shot up from the wooden floor, kneading her knees. Her aversion to the Gallo girl was getting stronger. She and Franco weren't doing anything wrong, but the other girl was quite perceptive. Delilah would surely ask why she couldn't just meet Franco in public. Damn her.
Callista opened the door to her left and found the bathroom. She paced back and forth, cursing Delilah with all the profanities she knew, both in English and Italian.
After a minute, Franco's voice rumbled outside. "Miss Gallo, honestly—"
Then the doorknob twisted.
Caly searched the bathroom with frantic eyes. She saw the bathtub that was filled with water and thick soap lather. She drew the curtains closed and took a deep breath before diving down on the water. Muffled voices traveled to her ears. Callista let twenty seconds passed. She couldn't take it anymore. She emerged, taking in copious gulps of air.
Someone opened the curtain, and Franco appeared on the other side. His sapphire eyes were twinkling with mirth. "I guess this is what an affair feels like.”
Caly groaned, whisking her wet hands. Drops of water hurled to Franco's direction, causing him to step back. "Stop it!"
Franco tutted, marching to the cabinet at the other end of the bathroom. He yanked a folded towel and brought it back to the girl. "You're this afraid of Delilah having the wrong impression?"
"That's none of your business." The heiress snatched the towel from his hold. She stood up, feeling the water drip down in every part of her body. Callista tugged at her ponytail, carding her fingers over her wet hair. She stepped outside the tub, one foot then the other.
Caly clenched her jaw, hating the soggy sweater she wore and how prickly she felt. She wanted to get out of this place as soon as possible. She walked briskly, slipping on the second step.
Franco caught her in time, his clothes getting wet in the process. His searing hands were on her exposed waist while hers gripped his shoulders.
Caly chewed her upper lip, hesitantly glancing at Franco. She was making a lot of blunders today. She had been vulnerable in front of a guy she claimed she hated. That was unacceptable. They straightened up, and Callista considered running, but Franco's arms were tight around her.
Her silver eyes met his sapphire ones, and regretted it instantly.
Franco Castellano had a placid expression, yet his darkened eyes spoke volumes. It swirled with sweet promises and delicious threats, and Caly wasn't certain she could refuse. She was rooted on the spot, wanting to drown in those blue eyes.
"This is what I'm talking about." He spoke in a hoarse voice, tucking a strand of midnight hair against her ear. Franco leaned closer, their faces only a centimeter away. His nose stroked her slender neck, sniffing the scent of roses. "Disaster."
***
CHAPTER 12
The sun was in its precipice that Castor Luciano chose to stay inside the air-conditioned Ferrari. The cold settled his boiling thoughts over the conversation he had with Callista.
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