SLICK

by Peavey Marshall

  His nose flared.

  She continued. "You're good at that, aren't you?"

  Benjamin gritted his teeth. "Shut up!"

  "What? You can't do anything without your boss?"

  And then he hit her.

  Callista's head spun. A scream tore through her throat. Her cheek ached as she tasted the blood on her lips. She rubbed it off with her thumb, glaring at the older man. "Is that all?"

  "Bitch!"

  His hand was poised for another slap.

  "What do you think you're doing?"

  Caly looked up to see Franco with his mother. He stepped forward, holding a hand towards her. She slid towards him, a hand to her stinging cheek.

  "I'm asking you, Benjamin," Franco demanded.

  Callista smirked at her fake fiancé's confidence. It didn't take long before they had an audience.

  "Did you hit my future wife?”

  The gasps made Caly smile and she was, even more, happier as Benjamin tried to run away only to bump into more of Franco's men. She relished the look on Francisco's face as he realized what had transpired.

  "I'm sure he did it." It was Althea Castellano who spoke that surprise crossed Franco's face. "The girl has blood on her lip and a bruise is forming on her head."

  Francisco glowered at his wife. "Nothing's proven—"

  "Are you saying she hit her head on purpose?" Althea continued with a bite as a chorus of agreements backed her statement.

  "Mr. Castellano..." Aslan Yusuf took a step forward. "This is the second time your bodyguard's name is mentioned in nefarious allegations."

  Francisco Castellano gritted his teeth. The eyes on him were filled with annoyance and expectations. Everyone knew he favored Benjamin the most. That's gotta create jealousy in their circles.

  Callista grinned and winced as her injury ached. Fuck it.

  "Father, since he's your man, shouldn't you take care of him?" Franco said. "Or do you want me to do it?"

  His father took a step forward. "I'll take care of him."

  Callista met his burning gaze with a glare of her own. "You better."

  Franco ushered her away from the crowd. When they were out of the public's eye, he cautiously peered at her face. "Crap. Castor will kill me.”

  She chuckled. "It was worth it."

  ***

  CHAPTER 48

  Franco had left Callista after tending to her injuries. They had planned to make his father's angry until rage would make him stupid and useless.

  When Caly had explained the plan to them, she sounded so sure. Like it was so easy.

  And she was right.

  Franco had never seen his father so unhinged before. And all because of his right-hand man. The same man who had repeatedly hit him since he was a child. The same man who had killed his fianceé. The same man who had laid his hand on Castor and Callista.

  He couldn't wait to see him fall.

  "Franco!" Althea Castellano walked into his room. She adjusted her fur coat, lips pursed as she glared at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

  "What?"

  "Your father will kill you!"

  Franco scoffed. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "Are you kidding me? You're showing concern? For me?"

  Althea's eyes flashed. She gripped his wrist. "Stop it. Whatever you're planning, you have to stop!"

  "Don't lump me in with you!" he growled, yanking his hand back. "How could you live with a fucking rapist?"

  "W-what?"

  "I know what he is." Franco tried to not let his emotions cloud his mind but be failed. He had heard Castor and Caly's conversation that he had begged Nicholas Luciano to tell him the truth.

  And the truth shattered his world.

  The only person who made his childhood bearable was also the person who took away half of his life.

  At some point in his breakdown, he had been thankful that Althea was horrible to him. In that way, there's at least one person that wouldn't disappoint him.

  "Your daughter... she had lacerations and bruises before a bullet took her life," he said. "Father did that. You know it and yet, you fucking stayed with him!”

  A slap resonated in the air.

  Franco rubbed at his cheek. He looked at her with amusement. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?”

  Althea blinked the tears from her lashes. "You don't know anything."

  "Maybe. But I know you're a coward.”

  ~~~~

  Callista Genovese had never worn a wedding dress before. Or even imagined wearing one. Marriage felt far too pure for someone as selfish as her.

  But for some strange reason, she was now marrying for purely selfless reasons.

  And to his boyfriend's brother of all people.

  The thought caused her to grabbed a bottle of wine. She poured a glass and drank as she surveyed the pretty white ball gown.

  It was a simple design with long sleeves and a deep V-neck. The skirt fell in huge ruffles around her. Her was twisted in a messy bun as silver jewelry adorned her ears and neck.

  Fuck. What was she doing? She was being an idiot.

  She should've told Castor to lock her up and prevent her from doing something as ridiculous as this.

  Or better yet, she should've run away as her father told her to.

  "Caly?" Franco's head popped in before he went inside the room. He wore a white suit, hair pushed back to display the gold hoops on his ears. "Are you drinking?"

  "Yeah. Join me," she smiled dryly and poured him a glass. "Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?"

  Franco sipped from his glass. "Feels like yesterday when we were drinking together."

  "Ugh. Don't remind me."

  He chuckled. "So... are you sure we made Father angry enough?"

  If he asked her last night, Callista would've said yes. Loudly.

  But she had doubts now. And with her fear of the future in play, she felt like a baby deer learning to walk on ice.

  "I don't know. He was born 30 years earlier than me," she replied. "Do you think he would let go of the power for the sake of his most trusted man?"

  Franco leaned against the table, swirling his drink. "And what do we do if he doesn't take the bait?"

  Callista sighed, pushing the curls off her face. "Then, we'll get married. Two or three years, give or take, I can take him down."

  "Will Castor wait that long?"

  Her heart clenched. She didn't think she could survive seeing Castor with another woman.

  "It's fine." She turned her back on Franco. "If he can't wait, then he's not the one for me, right?”

  "Sorry."

  "What for?"

  "For dragging you into my mess... You didn't have to do this, Caly."

  Callista shook her head as she marched to him. She straightened his bow tie and smiled. "Of course I'll help you. You're family."

  "Thank you." Franco clasped her hand on his. "And for what it's worth, I promise I'll protect you.”

  "Then, you'll need this." Callista yanked the gun from her purse. She placed the Glock on his hand. "I'll see you at the altar."

  ***

  CHAPTER 49

  It was a garden wedding. The smell of white roses filled the air while the setting sun gave a magical orange glow to the venue. There was an archway made of tiny golden twigs. And on her feet, the red carpet was adorned with white rose petals.

  From where she stood, she could see Franco waiting for her. His white suit and golden hair made him look like an angel without wings.

  Callista fought the urge to retch as the band played the wedding march. She took a deep breath and step forward.

  Then one more. And another.

  Her fingers shook as she held out a hand to his groom.

  Franco gripped her palm tight. They faced the priest as their guests took a seat. She could see Franco's parents to her left. The bodyguard was nowhere to be found but the old man kept gazing at the couple with interest. Callista felt wary.

  "If anyone is
not in favor of this wedding, speak now or forever hold your peace...”

  Callista wanted to raise her hand. She regretted ever suggesting arranged marriage. It didn't feel good no matter how handsome Franco was.

  Or the fact that this was a temporary arrangement.

  Unbeknownst to her struggle, the priest continued.

  They went through the ceremony with a tense atmosphere. Caly held Franco's hand even as he tried to wiggle out of her hold. She would've run away if it wasn't for him.

  Franco clenched his jaw as he lowered his head to murmur on her ear. "Caly, this is enough."

  "What?" she whispered back.

  "Father won't do anything. He's sitting there like a good puppy."

  "You don't know that. We'll wait some more."

  "We'll be married in a minute."

  "Not until we sign the papers!"

  The priest cleared his throat. "Excuse me. May I continue?"

  Caly nodded with a wince.

  "Do you, Callista Ariella Genovese, take this man as your lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better or for worse—"

  "Stop!"

  "Franco!"

  Franco shook his head. "If we do this, I'll forever be known as your first husband... and I can't do that to my brother.”

  "Wait—"

  "I can't take anything from him ever again.”

  Callista tried to grab his jacket as he turned to his father, the gun glinted on his hand. Her heart pounded in fear. "Franco, no!"

  Shit!

  The older Castellano stood up, pointing a gun at his son. His wife gasped beside him as some of the guests screamed and scrambled to leave.

  "You won't shoot me," Francisco declared without hesitation.

  "You don't know that," Franco replied, breathing hard through his nose.

  Francisco changed his target and pointed at the bride.

  Caly gasped as two shots went off.

  "What the...?" Francisco cried out and staggered backward as blood oozed from his shoulder. His eyes whirled, eyeing the rooftop of some faraway house. "Did you betray me? Benjamin!”

  "That was Scarface?" Someone spoke from the archway. He walked languidly, a shotgun resting on his shoulder. "I kinda broke his legs so do you mind if he can't walk for a while?"

  Callista wanted to run towards him and kissed him with his brilliant timing.

  "You—" Francisco clenched his bloodied shoulder. "Luciano! What did you do?"

  Castor was clad in black. "I left him to my shooter. Is that okay?"

  Francisco pulled out another gun as Castor moved into a shooting stance.

  Castor fired first, hitting the older man on the chest.

  "Cas!" Caly yelled with a distinct warning.

  "Don't worry. He's wearing bulletproof clothing." Castor finally looked at the bride, smiling at her worried expression. "Are you married?”

  She wanted to cry. "Almost, you idiot!”

  He chuckled. "Love you too."

  ***

  CHAPTER 50

  Franco watched with a smirk as Callista complained about his brother's lateness. He looked around to see crushed flowers and tumbling chairs. The strongest people remained standing, waiting for the next action.

  He looked at his father.

  The man was panting, his good hand clutching at the pain on his side. He tried to stand and winced in the process.

  Franco clutched at his gun tighter.

  He could end this.

  "Franco!"

  "Stay away!" Franco swallowed the lump on his throat.

  He had completely foregone their plan. But he had no regrets. He didn't want Callista to make the sacrifice that he should have done long ago.

  Franco had the nerve to question his mother's silence but he was the same. He had tolerated his father for years. All because the man had shown him a little bit of kindness.

  'I'm proud of you. Always.'

  Those were the words that he held close to his heart as Benjamin put scars on his body.

  Those were the words that lifted him when Elena died helplessly.

  Those were the words that made him strong enough to take on the world.

  A father's words to his son.

  Lies.

  "Franco..." Castor's concern tore through his memories.

  "Go! Take care of the crowd and don't interfere."

  "Hey!" His brother yelled as his green eyes locked with his. "Whatever you do," he said. "Make sure you don't regret it.”

  "I won't." He nodded.

  Franco focused on his father and raised the gun to his head.

  The man chuckled as he managed to stand up. He flinched as he took a deep breath. His ribs must be broken. "Son, you can't even go through your sham wedding."

  "I'm doing the right thing," he said.

  "Really? Then, prove it!"

  Franco dug the gun to his father's head. "I will!"

  "Do it!”

  He gritted as angry tears fell from his eyes.

  It was so easy.

  One pull and it's the end.

  'You know I'm proud of you'

  He threw the gun in frustration, yanking at his hair. He was a coward. He wasn't even that good of a father. He had more fun with Cas and Caly than he had with his own family.

  And yet, he couldn't kill him.

  Fucking joke.

  "It's okay, son."

  Franco looked up to see his mother picking up the Glock. Terror seized him. "Mother, what are you doing?”

  Althea ignored him and turned to his father. Her grip shook. "Your son is too good but I'm not."

  "Mother!"

  She screamed and shot his husband twice. "Die! You monster!”

  Franco's ears buzzed. It took him a minute to take in the scene. His father clutched a hand at his wounded neck. He coughed. His body twitched. Blood spurted from his mouth in short bursts.

  Franco realized that he was laughing.

  And that laugh would forever haunt him.

  He thought it was over but Althea Castellano wasn't finished. She stumbled backward, hands shaking.

  She placed the gun against her temple.

  Franco froze at her action. Fresh tears ran down his cheek. "N-no. Mother, you don't have to do that!"

  Althea stepped farther from him. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, Franco." She cried, her voice cracked. "This is my fault! This is all my fault! You're right! I am a coward! I stayed quiet for years!”

  "P-please... don't do this!!

  "It's too late for me!" She shook her head. "But you... you go and be with your real family!"

  His heart squeezed with pain. His mind could barely keep up with the situation.

  "I'm really s-sorry! I'm sorry for not being a good mother! Maybe in another life... m-maybe... maybe we can be a proper family...”

  A gun went off.

  ***

  CHAPTER 51

  Death sucks.

  Castor was sure that nobody would argue with him in that aspect. He clasped Callista's hand tighter as two coffins were lowered in the ground.

  A week ago, Franco Castellano lost both of his parents.

  "Why is there even death?" she muttered.

  He shook his head. "That's life. Sometimes, it sucks. Sometimes, it doesn't.”

  Castor saw Franco turn away and began thanking their guests. He didn't know most of them but Franco remained civil, shaking hands and squeezing shoulders. He learned etiquette quite well.