Callista Genovese never wanted to be part of the family business. She enjoyed the anonymity of being a teacher in a land where she was not the killer queen. But like always, family tends to ruin everything.
Callista was dragged back to New York with...
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Being a Genoveseand the daughter of the governor, Callista had always gotten what she wanted. Toys, dresses, shoes and all of the material things she had thought up on the spot.
She had never looked at the price during shopping or choose from the menu during dinners. She'd certainly not think twice about throwing an unused Burberry sweater. She hadn't care if her bodyguards were tired from running after her or the maids were exhausted from cleaning her mess. She had rolled her eyes when people get torn by her words.
Guilt had never been a part of her.
Yet now, she kept thinking about the hurt that Don felt.
Callista gritted her teeth. The three years she had spent in a mundane neighborhood affected her more than she expected. She stamped down the foreign feelings immediately.
Contrition had no place in New York City.
"Caly, you ever think about marriage?" Castor suddenly spoke from the driver's seat.
"After that?" Callista shook her head. "No. Not really."
"You can marry me," the man said flatly.
Callista threw him a bewildered look. "That's the shittiest proposal I have ever heard."
"Should I kneel?" Castor stopped the car and closed the roof of his Ferrari. He turned off the engine and addressed the girl again. "Give you flowers and sing you a love song? Tell you untrue promises?"
"Shut up, asshole." Callista opened the passenger door. Her eyes squinted at the red neon sign of 8th Motel. The flickering streetlights and cold wind blowing against her skirt immediately dampened her mood. "A motel?"
Castor locked the car as he got out, zipping his jacket up. "I can't drive for 36 hours straight. I need to rest."
"Why are we even traveling by car when we can go to New York by plane?" Callista yelled in frustration. The events a few hours ago were taking too much toll on her. Her inevitable return also gave life to the butterflies that slumbered in her stomach.
"What will people say when they find out that Callista Genovese is in America after all? Your father told everyone you were in Italy. We don't want the governor's name to be ruined, right, your highness?" Castor said in a derisive tone.
"So parking a Ferrari in front of a motel is not suspicious at all?" Callista glared back.
When Castor only gave her a dumbfounded look, her winning smile appeared. She stuck her tongue out and brought a middle finger up then trudged to the motel, leaving him gaping.
Callista eyed the place and in all fairness, it was decent. There was a bar next to the counter with a stocked refrigerator. The shelves behind the counter had a complete supply of chips and alcohol.
The curly brunette glanced up when Castor entered after her. He went straight to the counter to get a room, bumping into Caly on purpose. The lady's eyes sparkled as she began asking her customer some more questions. Castor was happy to return the attention.
