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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Callista arched an eyebrow as she read Franco's text. He had said that he couldn't meet her because he had an emergency. Caly gritted her teeth. She felt annoyed. She had planned on sharing her entire plan to Franco but he canceled? On her?
No one cancels on her!
Her phone beeped as an email arrived. It was another death threat from stupid people. She didn't bother to read it this time.
After all, these death threats came from one person.
Caly decided to go to Castle after changing into a white turtleneck and black leather skater skirt. Her ankle boots clicked on the marble foyer. She decided to go without Thomas. She didn't know why. Maybe she trusted Franco now.
The hotel was bustling with people as usual. She went to the reception desk but the girl said Franco didn't want visitors. Callista crossed her arms. "Really? Tell him everything will be over if I can't see him tonight."
The girl nodded hastily and spoke on the phone's receiver. She turned to me. "You can go up, Miss."
She went straight to the elevator and pressed the button to Franco's floor. Caly needed to talk to him so she could make everything clear to Castor. The thought made her heart clench. But she couldn't falter. She needed to win this game even if it meant she would break her best friend's heart.
Caly bit her lip as the doors opened. Franco met her by the glass door. His white long-sleeved shirt was open, revealing his toned abs and pale chest. His blue eyes were like clear skies. "I told you I have an emergency."
"In that look?" She lifted an eyebrow before walking past him. Caly threw her shoulder bag on the couch and slumped down, one leg over the other. She flicked her raven tresses over her shoulder. "What's wrong?"
Franco swiveled away from the door to face her. He ran a hand through his messy locks. "We're this close now? That we can talk about our problems?"
Callista noted his brittle voice and scrutinized Franco's ashen face. She shot up, marching to him. "What's wrong with you?"
He stepped back and Caly caught him wincing. Franco groaned in distress.
"What happened?" She clutched his arm and made him sit at a wooden stool near his study table. Callista noticed the ointment and a glass of amber liquid. She yanked at his collar and peeked at his back, seeing several red streaks. There were lacerations and some were bleeding. She gasped in outrage. "Ohmio dio!"
Franco straightened his shirt, jerking away from the girl's touch. "It's okay."
Callista ran her teeth over her bottom lip. "Who did this? Your father?"
He reached for his glass and drank the alcohol. "I'm okay."
"You're crazy!" She yelled at this point. "Take off your shirt!"
