Page 59 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Cross was already a foot away from Dante with an enforcer shouting at his back. Catherine’s father didn’t even see him coming until it was too late. He yanked Dante from his chair by fisting the back of the man’s suit jacket with both hands.

Shouts echoed all around him.

Chairs hit the floor.

Cross pulled Dante from the chair, and then slammed him into the nearby table. Dante sprawled across the top, while Cross fisted one hand into his jacket, and pulled the gun from the holster at his back.

Instantly, he had the gun pointed at Dante’s head.

Two other guns pointed at him.

One from the enforcer.

Another, from Lucian.

“Let the boss go,” the enforcer barked.

Cross laughed at the guy. “You’re a fucking idiot. A man comes in on your boss and gets him like this. Do you really think he gives a fucking shit if he gets a bullet in him, or what?”

“Cross,” Lucian started to say, staring down his Eagle from Cross’s right, “let’s talk, huh?”

“I’ve got fuck all to say to you.” Dante opened his mouth to speak, and Cross pushed the barrel of his gun harder into the man’s head. “Shut the hell up. Don’t even speak right now. It’ll just piss me off more. I came to say a few things, and I want to fucking say them.”

Neither of the two men with guns pointed at him moved an inch, nor did they lower their weapons. Oddly, Cross didn’t care much about them.

He was more concerned with the woman on his left.

Catrina’s knife had been at Cross’s throat from the second he slammed her husband down on the table. She stared at him with hard, icy eyes. Her stance didn’t waver, and her hand didn’t shake. He could feel the tip of her blade slicing his skin just enough to make a trickle of blood rush to the surface.

“I liked you a great deal years ago,” Catrina said, “but do understand that should you keep holding my husband like that, I will slit your throat before you can even pull the trigger, young man. You will bleed out on this floor, and you won’t make a sound because I will cut your vocal cords.”

Women like Catrina were dangerous.

Women like Catrina were vicious.

They did not play.

They could not be trusted.

“Try me,” she said calmly. “You would not be the first man to underestimate my warnings. You will not be the first man I have put in a grave.”

Cross didn’t move.

Neither did anyone else.

He looked down at Dante, noting the man’s clenched teeth, and tense jaw. He wasn’t worried or scared at all, but he was pissed. A raging bull that was caught and ready to be let free.

“That’s why you did it, huh?” Cross asked the man.

Dante sneered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Cross.”

“The night you came to my penthouse—you beat the shit out of me, nearly killed me, and told me to run. Remember that, asshole?”

Dante said nothing.

Cross saw Lucian stiffen out of the corner of his eye.

“You fucking remember, don’t you?” he asked Lucian.