Page 10 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“You chose to be a made man. You wanted that button, and it was handed to you with a smile because you earned it. You’ve earned Calisto’s seat, too, so take it. The only reason he’s holding off is because of you. Every man in the Donati family is waiting on you, even if they don’t know about Cal’s issues right now.”

“And yet, not a single one of you can force me into his seat. Not when he wants me to do it willingly,” Cross replied coolly.

“He needs the surgery,” Wolf murmured.

Cross knew that was true.

He still wasn’t ready to take over for his father.

Especially now.

“I need time,” Cross said.

Wolf glanced away. “All right.”

Zeke looked back at Cross. “Hell’s Kitchen for the fight tonight?”

“Of course.”

“See you there, man.”

Cross headed out of the pub feeling worse than he had when he went in. His phone rang just as he slipped into the driver’s seat of his Porsche. The unfamiliar number made him hesitate, but he picked up the call on the third ring.

“Donati here,” he said as he pulled out of the parking space.

“Long time no talk, Cross.”

It took him far too long to realize who had called him.

“Andino?”

“The one and only,” the man replied.

Andino Marcello was the son of another New York crime family’s consigliere. Cross tended to stay far the hell away from the Marcello family for many reasons. The most important being that the Marcello boss—Dante—despised Cross with every fiber of his being.

The reason for that hate?

Catherine Cecelia Marcello.

Dante’s daughter.

Cross’s … ex-girlfriend, old lover, first love, last love, his dreams and nightmares. A girl he had loved and dated on and off from the time he was fourteen until just shortly after his twentieth birthday.

His everything.

Almost seven years later, no contact, no calls, no nothing, and that girl still owned him. He let her, though. He made a promise to her once that he would love her always. No matter fucking what, his heart seemed determined to keep it.

Sometimes, he thought it was pathetic.

Other times, he tried not to think about it at all.

“Why are you calling me, Andino?” Cross asked.

“Remember that favor you owe me?”

Cross didn’t, actually. “No.”

“You were what, seventeen or so? Fucked my cousin in the backseat of my Cadillac, and I let it slide. You owed me one, that’s what you said.”