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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Vincent Ferrer had no qualms in being a capo for the Luciano family. His proclivity to gambling and the sick urge to watch people stake their assets and their whole life made his job enjoyable. Not to mention that the casino let him sleep in piles of money. But like other things, it had its downs.
Like the second in command telling him to meet after ten minutes.
Ten minutes!
Vince scoffed, searching for his pants on the hotel room he had rented for the night. He couldn't even find his pants in ten minutes. He truly considered going without but thought better of it. Castor would beat him to shit.
He finally spotted his pants under some fine ass he had pounded last night. Reaching out, he yanked it from under the woman. He heard a disgruntled groan but he wasn't certain as he dashed out after donning a shirt, grabbing his gun and phone.
"Vince, should we tell Castor about Dalton?" Billy asked, frowning in concern. He rubbed a hand over his shaved head.
They slid into the blue Chevrolet, Vincent stepping on the gas. His mind was filled with thoughts of Dalton and the way he had simply disappeared last night.
"I think we will get worse if we lie to him. He can check the log himself." Vince gestured his head to the notebook with a weathered black cover.
They parked outside of a café near Astoria Park. Vincent grabbed the notebook and strutted inside the café, Billy on his tail. He spotted Castor on the corner, sipping from a coffee cup while Dos stood near the booth. His watchful gaze remained on the newcomers as they trudged to their boss.
Vince usually made his deposits on Luciano's mansion in Queens. It was rare for Castor to ask him to meet outside. He hoped it wasn't because of Dalton. Word couldn't travel that fast.
"Cas," he muttered, taking a seat in front of him.
"So you don't have money to buy a watch?" Castor set down the steaming mug. He snatched the notebook from Vince's grasp and began flicking his eyes on its pages. Despite his young appearance, Castor exuded confidence, the kind of aura which would curl your doubts on his ability to lead.
Vince cleared his throat. His eyes took in the comfy sofas and sniff the faint scent of a newly brewed coffee. "Yeah. I kind of broke it yesterday."
Castor remained quiet. His fingers tapped on the wooden edge of the coffee table. After a while, he looked up. "Well, it looks like you don't just need a new watch, maybe an accountant too?"
Vincent licked his lips, catching his breath. "Well, last night... it was busy."
"Busy," Cas echoed. He straightened on his seat, his thumb and forefinger rubbing together against his chin. Vince noticed the portentous rings on his fingers. It changes sometimes but its meaning remained. It's always about anarchy, chaos, riot.
