Page 152 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

“Apparently,” Cross replied dryly.

“I am sorry.”

Cross straightened a bit in his chair, and glanced out the windows of the Brooklyn restaurant. Light tufts of snow fell, making a nice sight on the city street. “I appreciate the apology, Dante.”

“Would you look at me when you say it?”

“Do I need to?” Cross asked back. “I would think I have stared into your face when you were steps away from killing me. I do not need to look at you now to know you feel the things you’re saying.”

“True.” Dante chuckled. “I always thought you were such an arrogant prick as a kid. I was convinced from day one it was going to be me putting you in a grave, or you killing me.”

Cross grinned a little. “You should know I am still every bit the arrogant prick you always thought I was. The only difference now is that I’m older, and have an even shorter fuse when it comes to bullshit. Although, I do handle it differently. I’m not as prone to exploding and reacting. I’m something else entirely.”

“Violent peace. A dichotomy. The calm inside the storm.”

“Like the eye inside a hurricane. Everyone sees things calming down, and they think they’re safe to venture out again.”

“They’re far from being safe.”

“Exactly.”

“We all were that difficult, arrogant way as principes. Even your father … and even me. Eventually, that arrogance and nature becomes something else, something more authoritative. You probably didn’t even realize it, Cross, but it changes to make you into the man who will sit in the highest seat. You’ll no longer be just a prince in waiting, but a king who has already arrived. That change will come before you know it’s happened. I guarantee it.”

“I saw it coming, actually,” Cross admitted, “and I’m still not sure how I feel about it sometimes.”

“They say bosses are born in our world, Cross, as though we only sit where we do because it was given to us like a birthright. That is their mistake. Far too many forget that all of us are still made.”

Cross let out a breath. “Interesting way to see it.”

“I’ve had decades in my seat; you’re only just coming to yours. Calisto must be quite proud of you now, after everything.”

“You would have to ask him.”

“I don’t think I need to, really.” Dante shrugged his suit jacket off which let Cross know the man was staying for breakfast. “You know, for a long time, I thought you couldn’t possibly love my daughter in the right ways. Not in a way she deserved to be loved by someone.”

Cross’s gaze met Dante’s, and he held it strong. “You are wrong.”

“I know that now.”

“Out of everything you may have ever assumed about me, you are most wrong about that one. She is, and will always be, my life.”

Dante’s mouth quirked into a bitter smile. “I used to call her that when she was little. Vita mia. My life—precious life. I was never supposed to be able to have children, and I adopted my wife’s son after we married, you see. So when Catherine made her way into the world, my entire life was shook. Everything I was told couldn’t be, suddenly was.”

“I do know you love her,” Cross said.

“And so do you,” Dante replied, “differently than the way I love her, of course, but you do.”

“So maybe just let me do that, then?”

Dante nodded. “Yeah, that’s what I’m going to do from now on, Cross.”

“All right.” Cross noted his father heading back in their direction. “I suppose we can start over, Dante.”

“Could we?”

“For her, sure.”

“For her,” Dante echoed.