Page 20 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Catherine lived in an apartment close to the University of Columbia.

Catrina nodded. “Of course.”

“I have a paper to hand in tomorrow morning, though, so I might skip out early.”

She didn’t bother to mention that she also needed to stop by her cousin’s—Andino—restaurant again to grab her shit for the next month. Mostly because her parents didn’t know that she hustled drugs for her cousin as one of his many dealers. Despite her family being full of criminals, and built on a criminal empire under the oath of Cosa Nostra, Catherine kept her dealings on the illegal side of life private and secret.

She did not think they would approve. After all, her parents seemed fine with pushing her toward college. They had never fed her curiosity about their business dealings and illegal activities when she was younger. She stumbled into hustling with the help of her older cousins, who now acted as Capos for her father’s famiglia.

Really, she chose not to tell her parents the truth because she did not want their disappointment. She was positive it was all that would come out of her telling them.

Catherine was a hustler of a slightly higher caliber. She wasn’t out on the streets selling drugs, or making trades in dirty alleyways. No, she was New York elite simply because of her last name and pedigree. It got her into the biggest events, the most exclusive premiers and parties, and she used that to her advantage. Her face wasn’t recognized just because she was Dante Marcello’s daughter. It was recognized because anything someone wanted—no matter their poison of choice—Catherine could supply.

And she did it with a pretty smile.

“You’re taking summer classes,” her mother said quietly.

Catherine hid her frown by looking away. She did not want to explain that she was taking summer classes in an effort to play catch up with the courses she had dropped the year before. Her busy life, and sometimes lack of interest in college, made it difficult to actually do what she needed to do for her grades. She wasn’t stupid. She simply didn’t care most times. She had finally chosen a direction four years earlier, and mostly because of her sister-in-law.

Gabbie’s career in criminal defense had especially interested Catherine.

At the time.

Now, it just bored her.

“I picked up some extra classes to keep me busy this summer,” Catherine said, hoping her mother would drop the subject. “Maybe get ahead of my work before next year.”

She should have known better.

Catrina was not easily dissuaded by other people’s distraction tactics. “To keep busy, or because you need them?”

“Well, both.”

“School is still what you want to do, isn’t it? Becoming a lawyer, I mean. You’re twenty-five, Catty. You still have lots of time to change your mind. I always thought you would go into something with art as a focus, to be honest.”

“Art was always a hobby, but becoming a lawyer is reality.” Catherine shrugged. “Not sure what else I would do, Ma.”

Catrina stared at her daughter for a long while, saying nothing. Catherine almost felt as though her mother was searching for something in her daughter’s eyes. Or maybe like she was silently asking Catherine to talk.

Finally, Catrina said, “You know we’ll be proud of you no matter what you choose to do, Catty. No matter what. You can succeed in anything because you’re amazing, and I’m not sure you know how to fail.”

She glanced down at the bangles covering her wrist and the tattoo. “I did fail once.”

Catrina’s gaze followed her daughter’s. “You hit a bump in the road once. It’s only a failure when you do not get back up, and keep going.”

“Cara told you to say that, didn’t she?”

“Cara was a very good influence in your life when you needed her,” Catrina replied with a small smile, “and she gave us all advice worth following. Not just you, reginella.”

Little queen.

Catherine gave her mother a look. “I’m not so little anymore.”

“Still my little queen, even if you’re fifty. I raised you. Only I can pass on that crown, Catherine.”

Her mother, the Queen Pin dealing to the rich, famous, and spoiled, was still just her mother at the end of the day.

Catrina leaned over, and flicked the bangles on Catherine’s wrist. It exposed the black cross tattoo beneath the jewelry before she fixed the bracelets. “I never asked before, but I wondered … especially after that question your father asked about Cross Donati at supper.”