Page 186 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Dante cocked a brow. “No, not really, but I did it anyway.”

Cross shrugged. “So what’s happening?”

“Nothing, essentially.” Dante let out a heavy breath of air, and folded his arms over his chest. “Or rather, nothing you need to be concerned about. Tommas Rossi and I have agreed to a deal, of sorts, to keep peace over this whole thing. He certainly understands why we did what we did, but …”

“Business is business,” Calisto said quietly.

Dante nodded. “Nonetheless, it is handled.”

“What did you have to hand over to get to that point?” Cross asked.

“A port, free of dues. A shipment of guns to replace the ones you stole. A louder, more controlling voice at the Commission.” Dante glanced at Catherine who was fiddling with Cross’s watch on the nightstand. “Nothing that wasn’t worth it, anyway.”

Cross understood that.

He figured any man would.

One month later …

“Fuck, shake that ass for me, babe.”

Catherine winked over her shoulder, all dressed in tight red Versace with six-inch strappy black heels to match. Cross stayed firmly seated on the bench in the VIP section of Zeke’s club, but leaned forward just enough to catch the skirt of Catherine’s dress with his hooked finger. Her hips moved to the beat, and he got a peek of a red thong under her dress.

Cross whistled low, but Catherine’s hand quickly batted his away. “Hey, I was getting a good look at something there, Catty.”

“You can wait.”

He scowled. “That is a matter of opinion.”

She kept dancing. He loved to watch her.

Clubs could be a dangerous place for someone like Catherine, with a history like hers where drugs and alcohol were concerned. She never batted an eye at the whiskey in his hand, or the liquor flowing all over the damn place. Then again, she hustled drugs like a pro, and never touched those, either.

Cross wasn’t all too shocked.

Shit, she did like to dance.

“Get up here with me,” Catherine said, holding out her hands to him.

Cross shook his head. “Nah, I like watching you.”

“You can dance.”

“Yes, but I’m getting a free show right now, so turn around, and shake your fucking ass for me, babe.”

She pouted.

Cross leaned back into the bench seat, and hooked a finger at Catherine to demand she come closer without saying a word. Quickly, she bent down, putting her hands to his thighs, and giving him a sexy smile when their lips were just inches apart.

“Stop pouting,” he told her.

“Then dance with me, Cross.”

“I can’t—business is happening soon.”

Catherine raised a single eyebrow at that statement. “Why bring me to the club tonight if that was going on?”

“Why wouldn’t I bring you?”