Page 77 of Unruly

“Is it true she was arranged to marry someone else?” came another question.

Cross nodded. “That is also accurate.”

“The boss, right?”

“No, one of the boss’s men. She was intended to be a gift for his good behavior.”

Cross offered nothing else, and chose to allow his men to let their minds fill in the blanks he had not. It would work to both Zeke and Katya’s benefit if the rest of the men in their organization could pull forth sympathy for their situation. It was one thing for Cross to order the men to protect his consigliere and the man’s wife. It was another thing for them to want to willingly do so.

“He’s caused issues with the Russians,” someone said.

“He’s put this family in danger.”

Another asked, “How long before the Bratva comes down on us for this?”

“What will his punishment be?”

The discontent clung heavily in the air.

Cross could practically taste it.

He remembered what his father told him about being a good boss, and he thought perhaps his men needed a reminder, too.

After all, this wasn’t really about them. Or him, even.

This was about a man—a made man—who was only trying to protect the woman he loved. Sure, he had gone about it in the wrong way, and caused problems that left Cross in a bad situation and trying to clean it up.

It would likely bleed over to the rest of the men as well.

Still, respect was needed.

Always.

“We are a family first,” Cross said, making sure his voice carried over the concerns and demands shouting his way. “We will always be a family before anything else. We have always been this way. I understand that now we have to put more consideration into the safety of our families, and our streets. However, we’re doing that for the sake of family, so that one of us can be happy like the rest of us are in our own lives.”

Cross lifted a single hand, and tipped it over to show his palm as he said, “Don’t you understand? Don’t any of you know? I would protect each one of you in the same way, and with the same persistence that I am protecting Zeke. It’s what a good boss does for his men—for men who have shown him loyalty, respect, and honor. You don’t have to like what he did, or approve, because I certainly don’t. But if you expect me, him, or anyone else in this family to protect you the same way I am doing for him, then you have to give the same thing back.”

Silence stretched on.

Cross was okay with that.

“I expect you to offer him the same thing he has offered you,” Cross said simply. “Nothing more, and nothing less. Be good made men. Especially to each other.”

There.

His piece was said.

The boss had spoken.

The rest would be on the men to work it out.

Catherine leaned in the doorway of the music room. Large bay windows overlooked the private back property. The Baby Grand piano sat in the very middle. A collection of guitars rested along one entire wall. Framed, collectable music compositions hung in a haphazard fashion above the guitars. Posters of long dead musicians rested safely in large frames where little hands could not reach.

Out of every room in their house, Catherine figured this was the one that Cross liked the most. More so than even his private office, or their bedroom. When their house was finally finished with renovations, he had little interest in picking things out to decorate. Unlike her, he didn’t have a vision for every single room.

Cross basically let her have full run of the place.

Except this room.