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.

"What happened, Vincent? Where's my $300,000?" His voice had a daring lilt, a perfect eyebrow arching.

"I didn't check his status and he slipped away but I will find him." Vincent met his boss' eyes. He had been in the family for ten years and all of that was thanks to his ability to navigate his bosses' minds. Their characters had made him calculate his words. Making excuses was unacceptable. The sooner you admit your mistake, the faster you could correct it.

Castor's jaw clenched. "One week Vince. I better see that money or I'll skin you alive."

Vince didn't need to be told twice. Castor was lenient compared to their head and he wasn't eager to meet Nicholas Luciano. "Of course. I can go now."

"Wait." Cas held up a finger. He glanced at Dos who looked out of place with his white Oxford shirt hastily tucked into his brown pants. "You and Billy go out."

When their two companions were outside, Vince returned his attention to his boss. "Is he still learning?"

"Yeah."

"What? Get Moran back. He can protect you better," Vince suggested, his tone a pitch higher.

"You forget that Dos is Moran's son. He'll get better."

"After what? A century?" Vincent held up a hand and ordered a cake. He ignored Castor's probing gaze. Asking their partners to leave meant that he wanted to talk about a personal matter. And he couldn't leave without eating cake. That won't do. "So, what do you want?"

"I want you to meet Callista," he said.

"Callista?" The moment he received Castor's odious glare, he immediately swallowed. "I mean, her majesty? She's back?"

"Just give her what she wants."

Before he could stop himself, Vince smirked. "Whatever she wants?"

Castor kicked him on the shin, green eyes darkening like a brewing storm. The container of sugar and the pot of succulents wobbled on the furnished table. Vincent gritted his teeth as the sharp throb entered his body. "Fuck. Really? I was joking!"

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say because he dug the heel of his boot deeper. Castor pinned his leg on the booth's chair.

"I'm sorry!"

Vince should've known better than to joke around with Callista Genovese. He understood now why Castor wasn't that furious about Dalton. "Hey! Come on. I was just asking what the limits are. What if she asks me to kill someone or..."

His words trailed off when the waitress placed the cake he had ordered. Castor still had him immobilized so he couldn't feast on his caramel cake. "Cas, seriously?"

It was during times like this that Vincent would realize why Nicholas Luciano let his son handle the family business.

Castor pulled back despite the unpleasant snarl on his lips. He stood up, donning on his dark coat and leaned into him. "Tell me what she wants."

His boss grabbed the bread knife and stabbed the wooden table with it, shaking the furniture in the process. "We are friends, Vincent but when it comes to her, there are no jokes."

Well, shit.

✘✘

Vincent had quarreled with himself over what to do next. Obviously, catering Callista was more important but so was the business. Vince huffed in annoyance. This dilemma should be Castor's, not his.

Asshole.

But like an angel, Callista had texted him that they could meet in the evening. Unfortunately for Dalton, his days of running were over.

"So, let me get this straight." Vince paced the back and forth as Dalton was held by Billy and Yan. The man's bruises were turning purple. Blood drop on his striped shirt as he struggled to stay upright. "You bet your land and your house knowing you cannot uphold that deal? Haven't you read gambling 101?"

"There isn't a book like that," Yan interjected, dreadlocks swaying as their prisoner struggled from their grasps.

"Shut up. Just..." Vince marched up to the man and seized his hair, tilting his head until he could see his frantic eyes. "Just give me three hundred thousand and all these will go away!"

"I-I don't have money...left..." Dalton wheezed, snot and blood tangled in between his nose and mouth.

Vincent's lips curled up in clear repugnance. He stepped back. "Yet, you sat on the table! How can you play when you know you can't pay?"

"That rhymed," Yan muttered again.

Billy glared at his companion while Vince gestured to slice his neck. The capo's fist tightened while he thought of how to get the money. Things didn't get chaotic like this because his people would always check if a customer had the means to pay. But this time, they had missed Dalton.

Fuck. He clicked his tongue, smirking as he found the answer. "Do you have death insurance?"

"W-what...?"

Billy gave Dalton a backhand. "Answer him!"

"Yes...y-yes. It's...m-maybe a hundred."

"Together with the land and house, you're set." Vince put his hands on his hips. His head tilted to the side. "Let's make it accidental."

"W-what?"

"Pal, you do know what death insurance is, right?" Billy clamped a huge hand on his neck.

Yan sighed for everyone to hear. "You kind of need to die."

✘✘

Vincent whistled when he saw Callista Genovese in a tight red evening dress. Her delicious curves were a spectacle for his eyes to devour. He put his hands on his pockets. "Wow. You didn't have to dress up for me."

Caly's laughter filled the empty foyer. She sat on the last step of the staircase, adjusting the red straps of her pumps. Her eyes met Vince's. "Mi dispiace? Why should I dress up for you?"

"Why not?" Vince folded his arms.

"Oh, Vincent!" she chuckled. "That moment you sneezed when we were eating noodles causing it to exit in your nostrils? Sorry, Vince, but that was awful. Definitely a turn-off."

The man gaped at her, mortification colored his hazel eyes. Callista had the tendency to bring out secrets just for the fun of looking at your horrified mien. Vince knew that. "Do you have to throw that to my face every time?"

Callista smiled and stood up, running a palm over her dress. She trudged to him, leaning in for a hug when Vince took a step back. "Woah... I don't think so."

Caly's smile vanished. Her pewter colored eyes searched his face for the reason of his aloofness. "Did Castor say something? Ignore him."

"You know him," Vincent replied.

"What? That boy..." She rummaged through her purse, a determined look on her visage. Vince knew she was about to call Castor and that sent alarm bells on his mind. He had just fixed a mistake and he actually needed Cas to be in an agreeable temper.

"No, Caly. It's okay." Callista didn't stop. She typed in her password before Vincent's arm darted out to grip her wrist. "Stop it."

Callista jerked her arm sharply causing her bun to unravel, her ebony hair pouring over her shoulders. Her eyes narrowed into hard slits, probably thinking of Vincent's insolence to touch her. "Let me be. His controlling attitude is unacceptable."

"Caly, it's not like that!" He tried to explain, his words laced with calmness.

"What are you talking about?" Her shaped eyebrows furrowed in question. Callista studied his face as she waited for an answer.

Vince expelled a harsh breath. He tugged at the nape on his hair, hoping that his next words wouldn't cause too much trouble. "Castor knew where you were for the past three years but he never went to get you. I think that says a lot."

She blinked a few times. "Really?"

"He went crazy when we found out you have a boyfriend knowing he can't make his usual threats. It's like a drug withdrawal but you're here now. And I really like it if you don't ruin his good mood." Vincent went on.

Callista cast him a wary glance. "Are you just saying all this so Cas won't be mad at you?"

Vince grinned, "Maybe. Being kick hurts a lot."

Caly hid her phone back into her purse. She started tying her hair back into a side bun. Vincent watched in fascination as she pulled a thick strand and repositioned her hairpins. "How the hell do you do that?"

"You're interested?" she smirked.

"Whatever. Why do want to meet me anyway?"

She finished styling her hair, facing Vincent. "I want you to meet someone."

"Like a date?" Vincent could feel himself cringing with his own question.

"No." All traces of jesting were gone from the queen's face. Her chin jutted out, eyes brimming with anticipation. "I want you to entice her to gamble."

"Is she rich? I don't like people who don't pay even if this is Castor's request. Business is business," Vince replied. He loved gambling. The high he derived from risking everything in a game of chance was unrivaled. But he had no adoration for losers with colossal debts.

"She's rich." Callista's bow-shaped lips curled into a daunting smirk. "Miss Delilah Gallo."

Vince inserted both hands inside his pockets. "Now, we're talking."

✘✘

i wrote this a month ago so it's already prepared. and for those who are waiting for EM, well, i'm still writing it!

hope you like this chapter.

i love how possessive Cas is. did you like it too? or do you hate it?

btw, who loves milk tea?

see you next time,

✘✘,

lucci