Page 17 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Not him.

So no, as much as she couldn’t get him out of her head long enough to have a conversation with her family, she was not risking going down that rabbit hole with Cross.

Not again.

“You’re such an eejit, Michel,” Gabbie said with a roll of her green eyes.

Michel’s wife, a third generation Irish-American, had just enough of her culture to color up her words and the inflection of her speech. It cracked Catherine up a lot of the time. Especially when the woman’s Irish came out to insult Michel.

“Don’t call me that,” Catherine brother’s said.

“I say it with love.”

“Sure, but in your eyes, I see the insult.”

“You need your eyes checked, Michel.”

The part about Catherine’s older brother that she liked the most was his wife, Gabbie. Michel was a moody, difficult asshole on his good days, but his wife was the lighter side of his personality.

It made for fun family dinners.

“Your residency will be finished in what, a few months?” Catherine’s father asked from the head of the table.

Michel nodded. “Thankfully.”

“Long hours,” Gabbie said before taking a drink of wine.

“And have you decided what you’re going to do after?” Catrina asked her son.

“Private practice,” Dante said before Michel could.

Michel smirked. “Dad knows. Better money, you know.”

Gabbie sighed. “It’s not all about the money, Michel.”

“It’s a lot about the money,” Michel argued.

“Not all,” Gabbie said in a sing-song fashion.

Catherine’s father laughed at the head of the table, the joy in his old eyes softening his features. Dante Marcello often came off as intense and severe. So much so, that he intimidated most people who came in contact with him. Catherine knew that was simply because people didn’t really know who her father was.

Sure, he was a major crime boss.

But he was also a dad.

He was a family man.

He loved.

“How’s school?” Catrina asked, her sharp gaze falling on Catherine.

“Good,” Catherine answered.

“Wonderful,” Dante said, smiling widely. “Only a couple of years left, Catty.”

Catherine forced herself to agree. Truth was, it might be more than a couple.

Dante eyed his daughter silently, like he was looking for something that didn’t exist. All too often, her father did that nonsense. He was damned good at it, too.