Page 153 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Calisto reclaimed his seat, and said, “I hope everything is settled.”

Dante leaned forward to place his clasped hands on the table. “Almost.”

“What’s left?” Cross wondered.

“The guns you were running for my family, and the fact we still haven’t sat down and had a proper discussion on it all.”

“Why don’t you talk to Andino?”

“I plan to, but with you there, too. The point is,” Dante continued, “you cost us a lot of money by dumping those guns. At the very least, it deserves a conversation.”

“Sure,” Cross agreed, “but I’m bringing Catherine along.”

“Why?”

“Because I want a few things clear where Catherine and Andino are concerned, especially after everything that’s happened.”

Dante’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I’m not sure what exactly has happened between the two, as you say, but all right. I’m … trusting your judgement.”

That was that.

Catherine accepted Cross’s hand to help her step down from the passenger side of the Range Rover in her heels. “This is not where I expected a meeting to take place.”

She surveyed the old warehouse, taking in the rusted metal roof and drab walls. Many of the windows were covered with sheets of wood, while a few others had been broken out altogether, yet still covered. It was an odd sight; all the brand new, luxury vehicles parked outside a derelict building.

“It’s not unusual,” Cross said. “Meets happen in places like these more often than not, and more so if it’s a meeting between members of different families.”

Catherine let Cross interweave their fingers, and pull her close as they headed for the rusty, dented bay doors of the warehouse. “Why is that?”

“A few reasons.”

“So stop being a shit, and give me some.”

Cross chuckled. “Well, because these places are … safe, I suppose. You never really know if there’s been a wire put in your house or car. You can’t be sure someone isn’t a rat. When you have to discuss sensitive things in a large manner, then it’s best to gather in a place that is definitely untouched by officials.”

“Okay, but that’s like one reason, Cross. You said a few.”

“I’m not a Marcello. I’m a Donati man. I’m not comfortable taking up space in Marcello territory to discuss my business, and Marcello men are not entirely keen on coming into Donati territory. We came up with a solution, of sorts.”

“Which is?”

Cross waved at the warehouse. “This shitty place is owned by a man of my father’s. So I get the meet on my territory, and the Marcello family are allowed to gather in however high of a number they wanted. The thing about Cosa Nostra is that all made men are—”

“Honorable,” Catherine murmured.

He gave her a look.

She shrugged. “I’ve heard it said a lot over the years. Honor. Integrity. Follow the rules. Be a good made man.”

Cross nodded once. “Well, yeah.”

“So, my family won’t disrespect yours by causing a problem on your family’s territory.”

“And we’ve given them respect by allowing them to gather in such a large number on our territory. That’s how it works, sometimes.”

“So … enter the warehouse.”

“The warehouse,” he agreed.