Page 61 of Revere: A Legacy Novel

Her gaze darted to him, wet with tears and hurting. “Don’t. Don’t say anything at all.”

Then, she was gone. She didn’t even look over her shoulder as she left. Not even a hint of a goodbye.

It killed him.

Because he knew he just hurt her. Maybe not directly, but indirectly because he exposed her father like that. She loved the man, so hearing his misdeeds that affected her would hurt.

“Get out of my restaurant,” Lucian said.

Dante barked out a laugh. “No, I don’t think so. He’s not going anywhere. Not after this.”

Lucian turned dark eyes on his brother. “Dante, he gets this one pass because of the one I gave you for what you did to him. You crossed a line, and so has he. I think he’s earned it, considering. If as a made man you expect me to allow you to bend the rules, then you will allow me to extend the same hand to him. This is his pass. You will let him have it.”

Catrina put a hand to her husband’s chest as she turned her back to Cross. Her blood red, stiletto fingernails tapped against Dante. She said nothing, but her silent action spoke far louder. It was as though her hand on his body kept him from moving forward. The smallest, yet strongest, wall keeping him in place.

Dante’s gaze blackened with hate. Cross felt it burning his back as he left with one last memory filling his mind, and taking control of his emotions all over again.

Black eyes. Bruised, busted mouth. Cracked rib. Hairline fracture on his jaw. Concussion.

At least your eyes aren’t swollen shut anymore, he thought.

Still, his reflection looked like hell in the mirror. Cross pushed back the longer bit of hair that had fallen down in front of his bruised eyes. Behind him, Calisto stood silent and stewing.

Who, his step-father kept asking. Tell me, he kept saying.

Cross said nothing. He knew exactly what would happen should he tell Calisto who had nearly beaten him to death. His step-father would raise hell. He would not care that it would mean going against the largest organized crime family in New York. It wouldn’t matter that their family would be severely outnumbered and at a disadvantage where the Marcellos were concerned.

Calisto would not care.

Because someone hurt Cross.

Nothing else mattered.

It would cause a war.

No one would be safe.

Cross couldn’t do that. Not when it meant his mother and sister would be put in the line of fire. Not when it meant Catherine would be put in danger, too.

Cross fully suspected his step-father had a good enough idea about who had done this to him, but Calisto wouldn’t act unless his son confirmed it.

“You’re going to have to tell your mother,” Calisto said. “Please don’t make me tell her, Cross. I don’t want to break her heart.”

Cross nodded. “All right.”

“You know, we could fix this, if you would just tell—”

“Nothing to tell,” he said gruffly.

Calisto sighed, but didn’t push. “When are you leaving, then?”

“Soon. Tomorrow, probably. I might as well drive since I’ll need my vehicle while I’m there.”

“When do you expect to be back?”

Never.

“I don’t know,” Cross lied.