CHAPTER 46
Callista's eyelids were heavy as Castor yanked the sheets over their naked bodies. He pressed a kiss to her sweaty shoulder, embracing her from behind.
"Are you okay?" he asked in a rough whisper.
"I'm exhausted," she replied. She moved to face her lover, feeling the stickiness between her legs. "I wanna shower."
"I'm sorry.”
She laughed and buried her face on his chest. "You're not."
"I'm not." Castor caressed her hair down to her back. "I wanna make love to you until our souls meld together.”
Caly hummed. "If this is still about—"
"No. Go to sleep."
She felt him kiss the top of her head before sleep took over.
It felt like a long time before someone shook her awake. Callista waved the person away only to feel kisses over her face. She forced her eyes open and saw Castor's emerald eyes. "Hey."
"Hey, you."
She eyed him and his black trench coat. Callista was wide awake in an instant. "Are you leaving?"
"Well, yeah. Caly—"
She ran to her closet and wore some underwear. She donned on a hoodie, tying her hair into a bun. "You should've woken me up!" she grumbled as she reached him.
Castor wrapped his arms around her. "You were tired. I don't wanna disturb you."
She smirked at his smug tone. "You would know.”
He pulled away, grabbing a thick folder and a flash drive. Callista gasped as she received it. "You worked fast."
"Of course I did." Castor gave her another kiss before he trudged to the bathroom.
Callista arched an eyebrow at a folded page. She opened it to a man's profile. Aslan Yusuf. She had seen him before but she never knew he was connected with the Castellanos.
"Cas! This man...?"
Castor came out from the bathroom with his shoulder bag. He marched to her and looked at the picture. "Yeah. Yusuf. I think you can use him. That is...if the rumors about him are true."
"What rumors?"
"That he loved his wife very much and would never do anything to upset her," he said with a rare sparkle in his eyes. "His wife can't have children so the man built schools and orphanages and named it after her. They've been married for 15 years now.”
She smiled and poked his cheek. "You like him, don't you?"
Castor rolled his eyes. "It depends. What if it was an act?”
Caly ceased her teasing as she realized that her boyfriend was worried. She had never seen Castor idolized someone before. She clasped his hand in hers. "Hey. I'll find out for you."
They went downstairs and her heart pounded as they reached the mansion's backdoor. "Can you be careful for me?"
"I'm always careful," he answered and gave her a long kiss. She sagged into him as he nipped her bottom lip, tongue flicking forward. Castor pulled away, raking a hand through her hair. "One more thing... if Franco hesitates, tell him the truth about our mother."
Caly gasped. "B-but that's not... That's not my place.”
"Isn't sacrifice the theme here?" Castor said with an awry smile. "The three of us have made this decision.”
She hugged him tightly, committing his smell to memory. "Come back to me. No matter what."
"I will."
~~~~
Callista Genovese didn't wear a lot of armor. Her name and reputation was enough shield. Nobody could touch her without hellish repercussions. Everybody knew that.
Though in the end, she was human like everyone else. But unlike others, she knew all the tricks in fooling people. It was all about how you carry yourself.
And clothes helped a lot. So it became her armor.
Callista decided to have an elegant look. A black tube top paired with a red coat and equally red high waist tapered pants.
Her black Louboutins clicked against the pavement as Franco opened the door for her. She grabbed her Prada bag and wrinkled her nose at Franco's pale knuckles.
"Stand straight. You look sick," she muttered as Franco pushed back his golden locks.
"I can't help it," he replied.
Franco was such a bad actor but she was thankful that his cold visage could hide his weary expressions. It was a big bonus that he had dressed to match her. She took his arm as they entered the restaurant.
Caly was aware of the eyes that followed them. It was lunchtime that the five-star restaurant was packed. It was the best scenario for them.
Suddenly, she felt Franco tensed under her fingers. Callista followed his eyes to the man sitting at the corner. Francisco Castellano in a white impeccable suit. His gold cufflinks glimmered against the light.
But what drew the crowd's attention was the man sitting next to him. His loyal bodyguard with that huge scar on his face.
"Calm down," she whispered to Franco as they reached the old man's table.
Franco yanked a chair for her. She sat down and waited for him to do the same. The atmosphere became quiet as the temperature dropped to negative.
"I apologize," she began.
"For what?"
"I did a little cleaning yesterday." She smiled, tracing a finger on the knife's handle in front of her. "You see, I hate being watched."
"I see. That was the reason why I received a gift so early in the morning." The older man gestured for the waiter. "What do you two want?"
"Why don't we skip this and go straight to what you want?" Franco muttered.
"What I want?" Francisco laughed darkly, tugging at the collar of his pressed shirt. "Son, you were the one begging me to come."
"Maybe," Caly interjected. "But Franco and I have our own deal."
"What?" The old man's blue eyes flitted to his son. It was a mix of bewilderment and annoyance. "Son, what did you do?"
"Hey!" Callista grabbed the knife and buried it on the wooden table. "I do the talking here.”
Francisco Castellano immediately discerned the situation. A smirk curled on his lips. "I know a girl just like you. A woman very adept at using men here and there."
Caly had a hunch that he was referring to Celeste Luciano. Before Franco could analyze the situation, she continued talking. "Whatever, mister. But my dad had left me all the details of who and what kind of man I'll marry. Or did you forget that?"
"So, you actually chose Franco?"
"Depends."
"On what?" His jaw clenched at this point.
"If you make him the boss."
He cackled, shaking his head. "That's ridiculous!"
"Is it?" She tilted her head. "Nicholas Luciano wasn't willing to do it. That's why Castor and I disagreed. But Franco here said that you were willing."
"And? Where does it state that Franco needed to be a boss for you to marry each other?"
"It is my only condition," she stated. "Compare to all the things you can get from me. I'm sure my father told you about your prize?"
"The list of hitmen?"
"That's one of the few perks. I'm sure you'd be please to know that my marriage with Franco will put a spotlight on you and erase all those nasty rumors." Callista smirked as the old man's face crumpled in rage. "And also, you get to call me your family.”
Francisco laughed, rubbing at his light beard. "I'll say... it is a sweet deal. Too sweet." He hummed. "What is it that you want in return, Miss Genovese?"
Callista knew it was the right time to act according to her nickname. She forced to say the words. "I want access to the list too."
"Oh?"
"Franco and I barely care about each other. He won't care what I do. Unlike Castor, he wants me to stay out of the business." She shot him a wry smile. "He loves me, you know. Claims that it is for my own good."
Francisco went silent. His dark blue eyes were calculating.
Callista knew she did the right thing. She wanted to appear power-hungry in the man's eyes by going through a marriage she didn't want. But telling him about Castor's love for her was a double-edged sword. It could be used against them. But illusions always needed a bit of
truth.
She just needed to work fast.
"Alright."
Callista heard Franco gasp as the old man stood up. He straightened his suit and held out his hand to her.
"It's a deal, Miss Genovese."
She shook his hand with a smirk. "Yes, it is."
"Welcome to the family."
***
CHAPTER 47
The red apple tasted so sweet that Callista grabbed another one. She was sitting in front of a sofa that faced a body length mirror. She crossed her legs, causing the red satin evening dress to show her skin.
It was at that moment that Franco burst through the door.
"Seriously? You're eating a—" he peered at her spot and groaned. "An apple?"
"Yeah," Caly answered. "Your mother sent me a basket."
Franco shot the basket of red apples with a disgusted look. "Really? What if that was poisoned?”
She giggled and took another bite. "Then, you go and get my prince charming.”
"Caly! Does nothing faze you?" he yelled. "Tonight is our engagement party! And tomorrow we're gonna get married!”
"And?"
"Is this part of our plan? Did Castor agree?"
"Yeah. But it took a round of sex—”
"Stop! Damn it!" Franco sat down on the sofa. "Shouldn't we stop since Father already made me the boss?”
"You think you're a boss?" Callista laughed and threw the apple core into the trash can. She stood up and opened her Prada pouch, getting her lipstick. "Franco, your father readily gave his title because he knows that he could get it back. That's why the wedding is tomorrow. He's not giving you time to be a great boss. So that when you die, nobody would care.
"He's that confident?"
"If you do nothing, yes." Caly stood before the tall mirror and reapplied her lipstick. She smacked her lips and turned to him. "There are two kinds of people out there. The people who are impressed that you won against Castor and the people who are loyal to your father. Take care of the first one."
"What? How will I do that?"
She frowned. "Didn't Castor tell you?"
Franco blinked a few times before his blue eyes lit up with recognition. "He told me not to piss my pants and not to upset you."
"That idiot!" Caly sighed at Castor's stupidity. She sat next to him. "You need them to acknowledge you. That's the only way we could threaten your father. The only way he will make a move. The only way we can catch him in the act and make him pay."
"And what if he won't?"
"He will. Trust me."
Franco took a deep breath as he leaned forward. A calm mask settled on his face. "How do I do this then?"
"You lie and make promises you can't fulfill," she smirked at his confusion. "You know, like politicians. I'll take care of the other thing.”
~~~~
Callista had stretched her lips to the limits. She had danced and blackmailed and danced again. The people in the Castellano family were too familiar with fear that anything she asked was fulfilled in less than a second.
But her main goal wasn't done yet.
Caly grabbed a champagne flute, sipping at it with leisure. She watched with a small sense of pride as Franco managed to gather an audience. He was doing well. She figured that his professionalism was helpful.
Though she wished he would smile more. Older women seemed to prefer that.
Callista grabbed another drink. She almost choked as Aslan Yusuf entered the ballroom. Good timing.
She downed the rest of her drink and marched to him. Caly gritted her teeth as Francisco and Benjamin beat her to Yusuf. Shit.
Nevertheless, she approached with confidence. She heard part of their conversation as she entered the circle.
"So the rumors are not true?" Aslan mumbled. His dark eyes narrowed at the old boss.
"Are you talking about that rumor of children?" she interjected, smiling at her future father-in-law.
"Children?" Aslan echoed with a deep frown.
Francisco let out a shaky laugh. "Don't mind her, Aslan. As I said, the court has nothing on me."
"Really?" Caly tilted her head. "That's weird. I saw it first hand."
Benjamin moved closer to her. His sharp brown eyes glimmered with hate.
Callista felt her chest tighten. She took a step back before turning to her newfound ally. She held out a hand. "I'm Callista Genovese, Mr. Yusuf."
Aslan accepted her hand. "I see. It is you who will marry the boy. You are very pretty, Miss." He let go, not losing the curiosity in his face. "What do you mean by your statement earlier?"
"Oh that," she began, shooting him a somber smile. "I saw kids being shoved in a moving truck. And I swear... I saw this man..." Caly pointed at the bodyguard. "I won't mistake that scar."
Francisco stepped on her line of sight. "That's all hearsay. Do you even have proof, dear daughter-in-law?"
"Of course, I do." Callista met his blue eyes. "After all, it happened to me."
Caly had never been able to understand why her father had a lot of secrets. Some he hid forever. Some he hid for months. Some were never hidden.
But now she figured that it was all about timing.
If her father had complained about the kidnapping years ago, it would've only cause war.
Unlike today, she would make sure it would cause his downfall.
"It happened to you?" Aslan asked. His jaw clenched with anger as he turned to the boss. "How true is this, Francisco? And a Genovese is claiming this? You know how I feel about children."
"No, Aslan. This is—" Francisco followed the other man as he walked away from him.
Callista smirked at her achievement. Castor was right in seeking out that man. His straight-laced attitude was certainly handy.
Now, it's time to handle you, Scarface.
Caly exited the ballroom as she sent a text to Franco. She was able to press send before a hand yanked her backward.
She stumbled, wincing at the pain on her wrist. "W-what?"
Benjamin moved closer. The huge scar on his face crumpled in rage. "What do you want, little girl?"
"You're fucking hideous!" She spat out. "Get your hands off me!"
"I should've killed you years ago," he whispered, nails digging in her skin. "You and that damn boy..."
The mention of Castor caused a spike of fury through her veins. She slapped him once, tugging her arm back. "Go on. Why don't you hit me?"
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