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by Peavey Marshall


  She observed him as he popped the tablet. The golden hair was enough evidence, but she couldn't imagine Franco doing something so personal for a stranger. But still...

  His dark blue eyes raised to hers. "What?" Franco breathed out a weary sigh. "Are you upset?"

  How could she be upset now?

  Caly sat next to him. She pressed her lips tight. "I'd appreciate it if you order pizza.”

  Franco nodded as he called in for a delivery. He set his phone on the table. "This is unfair, you know."

  "What?" she asked.

  "I don't know anything about you."

  "That's why I was making conversation earlier." She remarked, crossing her arms. Caly pasted a smirk on her pink lips. "You know you could ask Castor.”

  "Are you kidding?" he snarled.

  "You hate him that much?" she asked, seeing the flicker of loathing on his calm eyes. Caly was tired of his wintry eyes. Maybe erasing that hate would thaw his coldness a little bit. And then, she could get a glimpse of the sweet boy who had saved her. "There's a lot of sides in one story.”

  Franco scoffed, placing an ankle over his other thigh. "Nobody had proven me wrong."

  "Is that a challenge?" Callista met his amused stare. She didn't know how much she wanted to do this for him until that moment. "I'll gladly accept."

  ***

  CHAPTER 22

  The sounds of Castor Luciano stomping all over his man cave forced Callista to look up from the sketchbook in her hands. She saw him kneeling in front of the LED television, yanking several tangled cords in one go.

  "Cas, can you get any louder?" She complained and began sketching again.

  "You said you wanted to play GTA?" Castor's irritated tone filled the basement. He marched towards her and slumped on the black leather couch, giving up on his previous task. "Or you just said that because you didn't want me to blow up with your request?"

  Caly cleared her throat. They knew each other too well.

  "What are you doing?" He seized the sketchbook from her hands when she kept mum. Castor's brows creased as he tried to understand what she drew. "What's this? A tree?"

  "It's an arrow!”

  Cas glanced at her, conflict visible on his emerald eyes. "Uhm, well, it looks okay and..."

  Caly rolled her eyes. "You can be honest."

  He burst into boisterous laughter. "It's worse than a grade schooler's drawing. I mean, it can't be this thick. It looks like a trunk and---”

  Caly slapped his arm. "That's too much honesty!”

  Her best friend rubbed the tears at the edge of his eyes as Callista snatched the sketchbook back. She aimed a cutting glare at him. "Okay. Stop it. You had your fun."

  "What is it for anyway?" Cas inquired, still chuckling at her expense.

  "I also want a tattoo." She pouted and started another design, making sure to lean away from Castor's prying gaze. "Don't look."

  "Let me do it." Castor's reflexes won out in the end. "If you want a tattoo, it better not looks like trash." He twisted the pencil on his fingers, face in deep concentration. Caly smiled when his fingers moved in confident strokes. For such a heavy and rough hand, his attention to detail was top-notch. "Look all you want, you'll never get this good.”

  Callista rolled her eyes and decided to prepare a milkshake for both of them. Aside from the huge TV and the air hockey table, the basement that Castor designed himself had a small bar on it. Black walls and warm LED lights completed its dusky look.

  She began working, silently praying that Cas would take a long time to finish the art. After her disastrous date with Franco, it was Castor's turn to spend time with her. And she knew how much he looked forward to it, but Caly preferred they play games instead. Her best friend couldn't really say no.

  Callista set the shakes and a plate of apple cinnamon muffins in front of him. "Finish?"

  "Yeah." He tossed the book back to her, eager to taste the matcha milkshake.

  Caly flipped the pages and found the arrow tattoo. This time it had a crescent moon with two small arrows beside the big one. They were made up of lines, circles, and dots. "Wow."

  Castor took a big bite out of his muffin. He spoke with his mouth full that she had to pinch his side to remind him of his atrocious manners. He drank the shake in one go. "What do you want, your majesty?"

  She feigned ignorance, crossing her legs. "What?"

  "You just shared apple cinnamon muffins with me?" Cas tilted his head, his eyes raking over her form. "Need I say more?”

  "About Franco's fianceé—"

  "Again? I told you—"

  She slapped a hand to his lips, ceasing his upcoming rage. "Shh. I'll let you go if—"

  Castor yanked her hand off in one swift move. "You were saying?"

  Callista breathed out a defeated sigh. She moved closer to him that Cas arched an eyebrow. "You see, I want to find out what happened to Elena." She batted her long eyelashes at him, clasping her fingers together. "Please help me?"

  Cas placed an arm on the couch behind her, his left hand threading through his raven hair, down to the taut muscles on his nape. "Castellano seemed convinced that I had a hand on it. And I don't care what he thinks."

  "But I care." Caly insisted. "What if it's a misunderstanding?"

  "So what if it is? You expect me to make friendship bracelets with him?" Castor turned away. He bent forward, elbows digging on his thighs. A brooding look settled on his face. "It's his problem."

  "No. But I'd be happy if he stops hating you." Caly rubbed at his tensed shoulders. "Please do this for me. It won't take much."

  His jaw tightened, the muscles flexing before he veered to her. "What if we find the opposite?"

  Understanding dawned on the girl. She wrapped her arms on his waist, placing a cheek against his broad back. "It'll be fine."

  The girl felt him expelled a retired sigh. "Okay. I'm pretty sure I don't know her, though." Cas sat straight, peeling her away from him. "Do you have her case files?"

  Caly searched her bag and pulled the papers that Tori had printed. "Here."

  Castor smirked at the wrinkly papers. "Seriously?" He flattened the edges before reading the report.

  She watched as Cas' face twisted from indifference to shock. His dark brows knitted. Caly licked her lips in apprehension. "I take it you know her?"

  Castor Luciano set the papers down. "I recognize her."

  "From where?"

  "The gallery." Her best friend turned to her. "I displayed that one painting of Apollo, and she wanted to buy it. But you know it was for my mom. She was adamant and followed me to Lux."

  "The nightclub?" When he nodded, Callista chewed at her bottom lip. "She's alone?"

  "I think so." Castor rubbed his palms over his face, colorful expletives spilling from his mouth. "I was wasted. I barely remember a shooting."

  "Are you crazy? Why were you drunk?" She screamed that the guy flinched at the sharpness of her voice. "What if they—"

  "You left that day."

  Caly's mouth dried. She deflated at the streak of guilt that pierced her heart. "Well..."

  "It's fine." Castor placed an arm around her slender shoulders. He tugged her to his chest. "It was a spur of the moment thing, so even Vince wasn't there. We should go to Lux."

  She lifted her eyes to see the determined set of his jaw. "Are you sure?"

  "Of course. I want to know what happened."

  ~~~~

  Lux was as quiet as a ghost town in the middle of the day. The black walls looked eerie without the glimmering disco ball, the garish beats, and the skimpily dressed waitresses. Castor and Callista immediately asked the manager if their CCTVs caught anything. They showed them their files, and the two began viewing the videos.

  Caly rubbed at her tired eyes. "How many times do we have to watch this? They didn't even catch the shooting part."

  Castor shushed him as he paused the video. He clicked twice to zoom the image. "Look at this.”

  Callista blinked at the
grey screen and saw a man point a gun to somewhere in the back. She pressed the play button and watched as the guy crouched before firing back. She gasped, hitting the pause. "I know that guy.”

  Castor cast her a doubtful look. She pinched his side, making sure her nails broke his skin.

  "Ouch. The hell, woman!" He swore, yanking her claws away from him.

  "I do know him!" She stressed with a petulant pout on her lips.

  "He's probably in a gang. How do you know him?"

  "I know everyone in Manhattan." She shot up, straightening her beige long-sleeved shirt. She slid her Gucci sunglasses on her eyes. "Let's go."

  Castor left a tip for the manager, saying thanks as he followed the girl out. He put on his Ray-bans, shielding his eyes from the sun's blazing intensity. "Where to?"

  Cas felt his pockets for the key when she replied, "We're near."

  They walked side by side, gaining looks of admiration and shock. The two had seldom gone out after they finished high school that seeing them together caused a few parted jaws.

  "Oh my god!" Callista halted with her palms in the air.

  Castor tensed at her sudden declaration. "What?"

  "I smell doughnuts." Her grey eyes shimmered, and Cas knew she had lost his best friend to her food splurges again.

  "We don't have time to—Callista! Fuck!”

  She heard him cursed as she crossed the street to follow her sense of smell.

  Callista continued following her whims. They had gone to sixteen stores with Cas walking out with more boxes than what he originally had. The heiress only decided to stop when people began to ask for pictures with them. She had said yes at first but refrained when Castor's angry veins started popping out. His solid greens had become a luminescent hazel with golden flecks of indignation.

  Caly gulped as the image of a hiding leopard waiting to pounce its prey floated to the surface of her mind. She apologized to the young girl, tugging his best friend into the sun-basked street. A half-eaten cookie crinkle still between her fingers.

  When he spoke, it was in a low, raspy tone that caused shivers in her spine. "You wasted time, Callista. You begged me to investigate."

  She shot him an apologetic look though her words were anything but repentant. "I haven't done this in a long time! And we didn't waste time 'cause we ate a lot."

  "You! Callista." He snapped, every word dripping with displeasure. "You ate a lot. Not we!”

  Meeting Castor's fury was a no-no that Caly remained cheeky. "You angry, I didn't share anything with you?"

  "What? I'm not a child!" he growled, his handsome face twisted into disgust.

  Caly let fruity chuckles leave her mouth. She offered him her last chocolate crinkle. "Here. I'm sorry, okay?"

  "Really?" Castor eyed her before he smirked and grabbed her wrist. Her heart hammered at the spark of mischief on his eyes as he ignored the cookie.

  She gasped when his tongue flicked out to lick the powdered sugar on her fingers. The soft and warm appendage tickled her body that blood rushed to her cheeks at the same time that her stomach tightened. Fuck.

  "W-wait. Cas..." Alarmed and embarrassed at the pull on her navel, she tried to jerk her hand back. But Castor wouldn't let up. His teeth nipped at her pinky that her hands shook, dropping the chocolate crinkle. He repeated the action to her middle finger, sucking the tips to his hot mouth.

  Callista scrunched her eyes shut, biting at her bottom lip to stop any explicit sounds. Damn it, she wanted to kill him.

  It was only a few seconds, but it felt like a lifetime before she felt his palm on her head. Her eyes flickered open, meeting his dilated jade eyes. He leaned down, so their faces were leveled. "You're forgiven.”

  Well, shit. That was a punishment?

  ***

  CHAPTER 23

  Castor had expected Callista's wrath and biting comments. But none came. After showing her bratty mode, she shifted to her take-no-shit audacious self. Her quiet confidence surged in invisible electric waves that even the gangster in front of them held his opening remarks.

  Oliver Dewan took a quaff from his cigarette, leaning against the graffiti lined wall of a children's playground. "You want to talk?”

  "Three years ago—"

  "Woah, man. You think I remember that. Can't even remember where I was last night." He blew out smoke that smelled like piney, skunky grass.

  Castor snatched the roll from his fingers. He dashed forward, forearm on the thin man's neck. "But you remember me, don't you?" He gritted out, digging his arm further. "Get serious."

  "Cas, he can't talk like that." Callista stood beside him that he hesitantly let go of the lanky man. "There was a shootout, and you fought back. Did you have an altercation with the Lucianos?"

  Castor let him go. He coughed, massaging the sore spot on his throat. "N-no. Everyone knows not to mess with Blackjack and his family." The red vessels in his eyes grew darker with his increasing stress. "But there was this man... in Lux. He started it.”

  Castor and Callista threw a knowing glance at each other. Cas' heartbeat elevated as he blurted out his next question. "How do you know he was mine?"

  "A reddish cigarette burn," he snapped. Oli's fingers trembled without his fix, his voice scratchy as he continued talking. "I just exited the toilet and saw this man, hidden in the shadows, but I could see his left hand, and the motherfucker was shooting calmly." He shrugged. "I shot back, and people scrambled. I tried to chase him, but he was fast."

  "That's all?" Castor asked. "If you're lying—"

  "Cas, we saw him came out of the toilet."

  "I'm not lying! I was in Lux to get some ass, not to die!" Oliver fidgeted with the amulets and necklaces on his neck. "It wasn't reported, so I just thought Luciano covered it up. And man," he grinned, lips stretched in amusement, "you and Castellano are the only people who could get away with anything."

  Callista resumed the interrogation in his stead as Cas kept quiet. His head whirled at the thought that someone had acted without his orders. His fists clenched, nails piercing through his palms. He saw red.

  Castor Luciano spun on his heels. Leaves and twigs snapped under his boots as he crossed the park towards his car.

  The Ferrari 458 Spider shone in its yellow glory. He was tempted to kick it but held himself and crouched, punching the cement instead. His skin broke as the pain lanced from his fist to his arm.

  "Are you crazy?" Callista's shout of anger along with her Italian curses caused another tug in his gut. "Castor Luciano! Are you ignoring me?"

  He stood upright, veering to the girl. "For fuck's sake! Give me a minute here! That fucking Dewan pointed at one of my men! I'm allowed to blow up!”

  Callista plastered a small smile on her face. She didn't flinch at his brash words. "Don't jump to conclusions. If that scar is visible on his hand, then he joined your family around the time I left. April of three years ago."

 

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