by Bethany-Kris
Headaches.
Stiff neck.
Cross didn’t like what he was seeing. Those were just some of the symptoms that gave a clue to an oncoming episode. Calisto’s last episode had come about the end of July, and it was only the twenty-seventh of September. Barely two months. He wondered if his father had another episode in between, but no one called or mentioned it. The likelihood was good, and it made Cross feel like garbage because no matter what he would be there to help should they need it.
But he needed to know.
“Is your stomach upset?” Cross asked.
Calisto cleared his throat and glanced up from his desk, as though he only realized then that Cross was there. “I feel fine, Cross.”
“Your head must be bothering you.”
“No.”
“Not your neck, either?”
Calisto straightened in his chair. “I’m fine, son. Don’t worry about me.”
“Make sure Ma knows to call me, no matter what,” Cross said.
“She knows.”
“Then why hasn’t she?” he demanded. “We see the symptoms far sooner than you do, and you’re the one feeling them.”
Calisto wouldn’t meet Cross’s gaze. “Perhaps because she thought you wouldn’t care.”
“Or you were the one worried about that.”
“Cross—”
“Make sure she knows to call me,” he interjected, leaving no room for question or argument.
“She knows, Cross. And she will, if she feels she needs to.”
Cross would have to settle himself with that answer, although he didn’t entirely like it. “You called about a chat I needed to have?”
“Two chats, actually,” his father replied. “One for me, and one for us.”
“Explain.”
“You heard about the issue between Rick and James?”
Two Donati Capos whose territories sat side by side. The two captains were always finding some bullshit to fight about. Cross figured the two men were like school children.
“What is it now?” Cross asked. “They’re always bickering between one another. They fight too much for it to be normal. Like an old married couple. I think they like each other.”
Calisto cocked a brow. “Oh?”
“Maybe you ought to tell them to fuck it out, and see how that flies.”
His father coughed out a laugh. “I’m not sure how that would … go over.”
“Better than playing a fucking peacemaker every other month like you do with the fools.”
Calisto shrugged. “Given they’re at it again, I will allow you that slight.”
“Not a slight when it’s true, Papa.”
Across from him, Calisto relaxed a bit at the affectionate term. Cross hadn’t even thought about it until the word slipped from his mouth. It was normal—habit.
“Yes, well, you’re going to get your chance at making the two knock it off once and for all,” Calisto said.
Cross scowled. “I already keep the Capos busy, and make sure they’re on the up. I don’t play peacemaker between made men because—”
“You have no patience, I know.”
“Exactly.”
“Time to learn, I suppose,” Calisto said with a smile. “See, I don’t need the stress of those two. Again. You’re my underboss, so handle them like I want you to.”
“Great.”
“Of course, this is bound to happen with Capos as young as ours are. The younger a made man moves up in ranks, the less time he has had to learn to be a proper made man while in similar company.”
Cross scoffed. “I learned, and they’re no younger than me.”
“You are an exception. You were mentored for this your whole life.”
“That’s true,” Cross said begrudgingly. “What was the other talk you wanted to have?”
Calisto’s amusement faded fast. “The Marcello girl.”
Cross stiffened, but said nothing.
Apparently, his father didn’t need him to.
“I got a call.” Calisto sneered, quickly saying, “A warning was more like it.”
“From who?”
Cross asked, but he didn’t need to. Not really.
“Dante Marcello. Seems his daughter has found an interest in you again. Or you found an interest in her. Why didn’t you give me a heads up so I knew this might be coming? I mean, I figured something was coming because of that stunt you pulled at Lucian Marcello’s restaurant. Fuck me for thinking you might have thought to come to me first before you pulled a gun on another family’s boss.”
“There wasn’t anything to tell.” Cross smirked, adding, “And that man deserved what I did.”
“You have nothing to tell me at all?”
Cross met his father’s gaze and stared him down. “I’m not giving you a play-by-play of my sex life.”
Calisto cleared his throat loudly. “Well, then.”
“What was Dante’s warning?”
“For you to stay the hell away from his daughter.”
“And if I don’t?”
“He didn’t say, but frankly, I think the outcome is probably self-explanatory.”
“His men, then,” Cross muttered to himself.
“Pardon?”
“I have men following me. On and off. They come and go. Likely Dante’s men.”
Calisto blew out a heavy breath. “I know it will do me no good.”
“Go ahead for your peace of mind, anyway.”
He expected his father to warn him.
To tell him to stay away from Catherine.
Calisto did neither. “Please be careful, son.”
Cross waved at the girl waiting tables to get her attention. He pointed down at his empty glass. “Top up my whiskey?”
She nodded. “Sure, Mr, Donati.”
Quick as a little mouse, the waitress scurried off. Cross preferred this restaurant—one owned by Calisto—when he was doing meetings with made men. The staff inside were well versed on the owner’s less than savory business dealings. The extra bonuses on their checks allowed them to turn their cheeks when things happened that were a little unusual or … downright awful.
By the time the waitress came back with his two fingers of whiskey in a lowball glass, the first man Cross was waiting for showed up. Rick, one of the two Capos he needed to deal with, spotted Cross instantly. He headed in his underboss’s direction as the waitress sat Cross’s new glass down and took away the old one.
“Principe,” the Capo greeted.
Cross sipped the top shelf liquor, and set the glass down with a clink. “At least one of you cafones showed up on time.”
Rick’s brow furrowed. “Pardon?”
He didn’t bother to explain, but he didn’t need to. James, the other Capo in question, strolled through the entrance of the joint looking as though he had a rough night.
James found Cross and Rick, and his scowl deepened. Still, the Capo made his way over. He didn’t move to sit beside Rick, though.
Cross was not playing these childish games. “There is only one other seat at this table for a reason, James. I suggest your ass gets acquainted with it in the next two seconds.”
“I—”
“I did not pose that as a question. Sit.”
James sat.
Cross lifted his glass for another sip. “We’re not going to be here long, so don’t even bother calling someone over for an order.”
Neither of the two Capos looked impressed. Cross didn’t care.
“See, I have busy enough days as it is,” Cross explained with a wave of his hand, “and now I’ve got more piled on because some people in this organization can’t seem to play nice with one another. Let me give you both a hint—there’s only two of you here with me. Who the fuck do you think I’m talking about?”
Rick and James shifted in their chairs.
“I don’t know if it’s that you don’t like to share, or someone’s being mean, or maybe we’ve got a case of jealousy. It really doe
sn’t matter. Now you’re fucking with my time, and that’s a goddamn problem. The boss might not mind catering to the two of you with your bullshit, but I will not. If you insist on behaving like children toward one another, then I will deal with the two of you like children. I will punish you like children. There are other Capos—less difficult men—that will easily take the things I remove from you both. They will take it with a smile and a thank you. Do you understand?”
James frowned.
Rick’s mouth opened to speak. “And just how—”
“I did not ask for a fucking question,” Cross snapped. “I asked for an answer that requires yes, or no, or an agreement of some kind that pleases me. Let me make myself very clear here. There is only one acceptable response, so choose it wisely.”
“Yeah, I got it,” James said under his breath.
“Crystal clear,” Rick muttered right after.
“If it seems like this little chat was patronizing,” Cross said with a smile, “that’s because it was. You’re grown men—made men—so figure out a way to get the fuck along, or I will force you to walk through Hell’s Kitchen for an entire day holding hands like my mother used to do to my sister and I when we were children. You want to make fools of yourself, then I suppose you won’t give a shit if I help you out, huh?”
Neither man said anything.
Cross tapped a finger on the table as he stood. “Calisto is done with your fucking nonsense. And good riddance because he’s put up with it for far longer than I would have. Test me, and I will make you both wish I killed you instead.”
He shrugged on his suit jacket, but not before downing the rest of his whiskey. He also grabbed two items from the inside pocket of his jacket.
Cross tossed a condom packet down in front of both men. “I always keep one or two on hand, just in case. They’re good to have.”
Both men stared at the condoms.
“Try fucking it out if you can’t talk it out.” Cross laughed darkly, adding, “Safety first. Wouldn’t want one of you two pussies knocking the other one up, would we?”
Cross headed out of the restaurant without a look back. He had parked his Porsche across the street. He was trying to get as much time under the wheel of it as he could before winter came, and he was forced to put it away for a few months.
As he walked out onto the street, his name echoed out from several voices, and two different directions.
“Donati!”
“Cross!”
“Asshole!”
That third one wasn’t his name, but given it came from the man to the left of another who had used his last name Cross safely assumed he meant him. Two men on one side. Two from the other.
Cross just reached his Porsche as the men rounded on his vehicle. One carried a bat, and it swung to and fro from the man’s fingertips.
Worse?
Cross recognized a couple of the guys.
Two were guys that kept following him around the city as he worked. Two others he knew to be enforcers for Marcello Capos.
This was not good.
Still, Cross held his ground. He didn’t reach for the handle on the passenger side door, but instead, turned to the biggest of the four.
“Jack, right?” Cross asked.
“You got it, Donati.”
Cross nodded. “Yeah, a bitch enforcer for one of Dante’s men. What the fuck do you want?”
“Heard you came up on the boss a while back,” one of the men said.
“Somebody thinks you should answer for that,” said another.
Cross put his back to his Porsche. He sure as fuck wasn’t turning his back to any of these idiots. “Is that so? And who would that be?”
Jack smiled. “Any man worth his weight on our side of town.”
“Well, fuck your side of town,” Cross shot back, “because this side is mine.”
“Nobody’s here.”
“You keep thinking that, dumbass.”
The man with the bat swung, and broke the taillight out of the driver’s side. Cross sighed as the man smiled.
“Whoops.”
“You touch my car with that bat again, and I’m going to see how good your gag reflex is when I shove it down your fucking throat,” Cross warned.
“Those are big words for a man with no—”
Cross pulled his Eagle out from the holster at his back. He pointed it right at Jack’s head. “Tell him to swing that bat again. I fucking dare you.”
Two of the other men pulled guns on Cross.
He didn’t lower his even a fraction of a millimeter.
“Now look at this stupid shit,” Cross said. “Out in the middle of a city street, in fucking daylight, pointing guns at each other like idiots. One of you gets me locked up for this stupid shit, and I will burn your houses down after I lock your asses inside. Try me.”
He did not need a charge. Not when he regularly crossed borders. Sure, Cross used fake IDs, passports, and all that, but he sometimes used his real one, too.
“Something wrong, principe?”
The question was called from across the street. Cross found Rick and James standing there. Despite being chastised like misbehaving children only minutes ago by Cross, they stood ready to come to his aid should he need it. Like proper made men. That was the only reason Cross didn’t fix their nonsense by killing them. They were good made men at the end of the day.
“See,” Cross told Jack, “you were mistaken in assuming I go anywhere without someone nearby. I assume that’s a regular thing for you—being wrong, I mean. Consider this a pass. You come up on me again, and I will nail your ass to a wall before I gut you. Make sure you let Dante Marcello know I’ve heard his warnings loud and clear, and I don’t give a single fuck. I’m doing just fine, and he definitely wants me to stay that way. He starts pissing me off, or you assholes try more of this shit, and this city is going to run red in the streets. Got it?”
Jack glared.
Cross cocked the hammer back on the Eagle. “Got it?”
Jack nodded at the other guys, and his men slowly started to back away. Only once they were far down the street did Cross finally lower his gun from Jack.
Then, Cross rattled off his Manhattan address before saying, “That’s where you’ll find me. Make sure your little buddy drops off enough cash to replace my taillight, or I’ll take it in blood.”
“You couldn’t let me know they were planning something, asshole?”
Andino Marcello looked up from the papers on his desk. He didn’t look the least bit surprised to see Cross standing there in his business. Cross didn’t even enter the man’s office, but that was only because the pit bull sitting beside the desk looked like he was going to take a pound out of Cross’s ass.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Marcello enforcers. Following me. Cornering me in my territory. Ring any damn bells for you?”
“Not really,” Andino said. “But hey, Marcello men are vicious, Cross. You made a scene with Dante, and nobody wants to take that shit lying down. I’m surprised even one man in the family let you walk around this long without some kind of action, to be honest.”
“Fuck you all,” Cross uttered.
Andino shrugged. “I’m just saying.”
“Listen, you make sure that shit never happens again.”
“I don’t even know what happened in the first place.”
Cross took great effort to hide his irritations from others, but it was getting damn hard lately. “I told you. A group of Marcello enforcers cornered me in my territory coming out of a meet with some of my guys. Mind you, this was after they tailed me for days. Add in the fact Calisto got a personal warning from Dante for me to stay the hell away from Catherine, and I don’t think those fools came up with this idea on their own. They weren’t the brightest fucking bunch.”
“I mean, I can’t really help you, Cross,” Andino said after a long while. “None of us are supposed to be working with you, or any Donati man, for that matter. I’m not
going to go around sending out warnings, and raising somebody’s alarm bells. I need my guns run.”
“Holy shit, your fucking guns,” Cross groaned. “I am going to get those guns down the Gulf regardless, you piece of shit. But I won’t be able to if one of those assholes puts me in a grave.”
The dog beside the desk growled.
Cross straightened a bit on the spot.
“Hush, Snaps,” Andino murmured. Then, he looked to Cross again. “Maybe you should heed the warnings, and stay away from my cousin.”
“Maybe you all should mind your business.”
“You have a death wish.”
“They’ve said that about me for my whole life. I am still here. Somebody better make sure what happens yesterday doesn’t ever happen again, or none of you will like what I do.”
Andino frowned. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“Good.”
Cross turned to leave.
Andino’s voice stopped him. “Next time, don’t rush my office without knocking first. I was kind enough to stop Snaps today from reacting how he’s been trained—I will not be kind again.”
Noted.
Cross scrubbed a hand over his jaw, and figured he needed a shave. The three-day stubble itched along his palm. He barely even heard the elevator ding as it opened to let him into the hallway for his penthouse.
He supposed he should be happy that after his chat with Andino a week earlier shit had calmed down a bit.
A bit didn’t mean entirely, though.
He still found men tailing him sometimes.
Marcello people eating in his regular haunts.
A Marcello Capo at Zeke’s club.
Another warning to Calisto over the phone.
Fuck, Cross hadn’t even spoken to Catherine since that night at the beach, but those warning flags kept on coming.
Seemed it didn’t matter what warnings he got …
Catherine leaned against the front door of Cross’s penthouse. A black Dolce & Gabbana dress, leather jacket, and matching black heels. She was like heaven gracing his eyes. A sexy little smile lit up her pretty face as his gaze connected with hers. He closed the distance between them, not even feeling a little bit wary over her presence.
He probably should have.