by Bethany-Kris
“Cross my heart.”
Giovanni folded his arms over his chest. “It almost was Lucian who came, but your father and he are in a bit of a spat. Once he figured out why Dante wanted him to be here this morning, he refused.”
“Shame,” Catherine said as she opened the driver’s door. “I suppose he meant this to be a warning for me. That he knows where I was last night, and with whom, right?”
“Saves me the time of explaining.”
“I’m already aware that my enforcer lets him know those things.” Or rather, Jordyn filled Dante in on details that had nothing to do with her business with Andino. It satisfied her father’s need for information. “I figured someone might be down here this morning because he called me last night, and I didn’t pick up.”
“Maybe you should have.”
“Maybe I was busy,” Catherine shot back.
Giovanni coughed, and glanced away. “You’re going to give your father a stroke if you talk to him like that. Or, God, a heart attack.”
“He’s perfectly healthy, so no worries. Daddy doesn’t like to be told no, and that’s the real problem. I’m more than old enough to make my decisions where Cross and I are concerned, and he needs to let me make them. He doesn’t have to like them.”
“I agree.”
Catherine hesitated as she was climbing into her car. “Do you?”
She looked back to her uncle.
Giovanni smiled. “Dante will only push you so hard, Catty. You’re too much like your mother for him to try much else, and he knows it damn well. He’s already tested his waters with you, and clearly it’s gotten him nowhere.”
“Clearly,” she echoed.
“Try not to make this too hard on him, okay?”
“And what is this?”
Giovanni waved a hand flippantly. “Leaving him behind, of course. You’re not a little girl anymore. You don’t need him to save you. He might be holding onto that idea, and you could say that Cross is the thing he’s trying to protect you from. So yes, leaving him behind. What else?”
Well, then …
“Also,” Giovanni added.
Catherine sighed, and looked back out at her uncle. “What now?”
“Your father sent me over to remind you about the dinner this weekend with the family. You might be able to disregard his calls and demands, but the rest of us are a bit harder to ignore. Be a good Marcello, and put your happy face on after church on Sunday. Especially for Cecelia and Antony. Do not disappoint your grandparents by not coming only because you want to hurt your father.”
“I wouldn’t do that to them,” Catherine said quietly.
Giovanni nodded once. “I didn’t think so, but sometimes a reminder of what is important can be helpful, Catty. I will see you on Sunday.”
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come this weekend, Catherine.”
Catherine strolled on past her father as she entered the old Marcello mansion. “Why wouldn’t I come, Daddy?”
“You know exactly why.”
Catrina shrugged off her jacket, and took Catherine’s as well. “How was your week, mia reginella?”
“Pretty good.”
“Oh?” Her mother smiled. “I missed you, though. You didn’t come over.”
Catherine’s gaze darted to her father who was still watching her with barely hidden irritation. He was angry and disappointed with her. He still wanted her to bend to his demands. She couldn’t do it, and he had to respect that whether he liked it or not.
“I’ll come over this week,” Catherine promised her mother.
She kissed Catrina’s cheek.
Dante sighed, and strolled on past his wife and daughter. Once he was around the corner, Catherine finally relaxed a little bit.
Her mother didn’t miss it.
“Give him some time,” Catrina said.
Catherine rolled her eyes. “To what, Ma, send more men to break something else on Cross’s car? Or how about sending Uncle Lucian the next time I stay the night with Cross? He’s made how he feels abundantly clear.”
“You’re spending nights with him?”
“That’s all you heard in that?”
“Well … no, but it’s a detail I find interesting. I’ll talk to your father again, Catty.”
“It’s pointless. You’re both too stubborn. His mind is made up. It’ll just end with you two in a fight, too. Leave it alone, Ma.”
Catrina cocked an eyebrow. “How little faith you have in me, dolcezza.”
Catherine chewed on her lower lip before saying, “Ma, it’s not that I don’t think you could help, but more that I don’t want you to. I need Daddy to let me make these choices on my own. For him to understand that whether or not they are good or bad choices, they are still only mine to make. It’s time for him to step back.”
“And let you fly,” Catrina said quietly.
“Exactly.”
“You know that scares him, though, don’t you?”
“I know he’s scared I’m going to find myself depressed again,” Catherine replied, “and that it might lead me where it did the last time. I also know I can stumble into another one of those spirals simply because I’m not managing my own happiness, but trying to placate his. I still don’t want you arguing with him over me, Ma. I needed to learn these things on my own; it’s time for him to learn, too.”
Catrina’s lips pursed. “I won’t talk to him, then, but know that he loves you so very much, Catty.”
“I know he does, Ma.”
Her mother patted her cheek. “Okay, let’s put on a smile and eat some good food.”
That sounded like a great plan.
Unfortunately, their large family dinners were not as large as they used to be. As the Marcello cousins became older, and had lives of their own, it made it difficult to get everyone to gather at the same time.
Cella—Lucian and Jordyn’s second daughter—had married a lawyer, and being that she was heavily pregnant with her first child, often came depending on her mood and energy. Liliana, the older of the two sisters, married Joe Rossi from Chicago, and only came home a couple of times a year. Their youngest sister, Lucia, newly turned eighteen, had just left for college in another state. Johnathan, the oldest of the four, was the only one actually at the dinner.
Andino, too.
All of Catherine’s aunts and uncles.
Her grandparents.
Gabbie and Michel.
And of course, her parents.
Still, the large table that her grandparents had specially made for their ridiculously large dinners was not nearly filled with a good portion of people missing from the place. Somehow, their dinners still managed to be especially loud, and always fun.
For as long as Catherine could remember, this was how she spent her Sundays. Church in the morning, and family in the afternoon. She hadn’t needed to help in the kitchen, though, so … winning. Cooking under the eagle-eye watch of her grandmother, Cecelia, was fucking unnerving. The woman could tell if someone used even a pinch of too much anything, even from across the damn room.
Catherine had no sooner sat down in the chair she always used—directly across from her parents, and next to her brother and his wife—than her aunts, mother, and grandmother began serving food.
Once the plates were filled, and everyone was seated her grandfather, Antony, said his usual prayer. The moment amen left his lips, utensils scraped plates, and voices came from all directions. Catherine tried to keep up with the conversations between everyone, but it was difficult. Especially when there were at least five different conversations happening between them all.
This was her family, though.
She loved it.
“How is Lucia doing in California?” Antony asked.
Lucian frowned. “Really well.”
“Why are you frowning, then?” Michel asked.
Jordyn—Lucian’s wife—laughed. “Because he misses her terribly.”
“The house is quiet now,” Lu
cian said.
“I remember that feeling,” her grandmother said from the head of the table. “One day there’s echoes in the hallways and handprints on the windows, and the next, nothing.”
“Empty,” Dante said across from Catherine. “It makes a home feel empty, Ma.”
“But she is doing well?” Catherine’s mother asked.
“A little homesick, maybe,” Jordyn answered, “but I expected that.”
“When is she coming home?” Catherine asked.
“Three weeks for Christmas.”
“That’ll be nice,” her grandfather noted. “At least the little ruckus over the summer with her and that boy has calmed down.”
Catherine cleared her throat, sensing the awkward cloud that floated over the table at her grandfather’s words. Lucia had apparently gotten involved with a boy her parents did not approve of, and some … things happened. Catherine was not the person to judge where boys were concerned. Especially boys that were bad, or a little too wild for their own good.
All she had been told—as Lucia’s parents wanted it kept quiet—was that she headed off to California once they got her home again, and the boy was … well, Catherine didn’t know. Shit, she didn’t even know the guy’s name. She was told not to ask or talk about it.
Lucian brought the attention back to him as he said, “Three weeks for Christmas gives me time to convince her to stay.”
Laughter rumbled from around the table.
Then, attention turned to Catherine.
She almost wished it hadn’t.
“You were late to church today,” Cecelia said.
Catherine shrugged. “Late night, Grandmamma.”
“Oh, why?”
Yikes.
“I was out with a friend,” she settled on saying. “We went to dinner, and then to a club.”
And then back to his place, Catherine added silently.
That’s why she had been late for church because she needed a proper dress. The one she wore to dinner and the club with Cross had not been appropriate at all.
“I didn’t know you were seeing someone,” her grandmother said.
The noise at the table stopped. Catherine did not miss the looks being passed between her uncles and father, not to mention the way Catrina smirked and reached for her wine glass. Even her older cousins quieted, but that didn’t stop Andino and John from shoving food into their mouths. The two men’s gazes darted between Catherine and Dante like they knew exactly what was going on behind the scenes in their family.
She supposed they probably did.
Catherine met her father’s stare from across the table. Dante’s posture and stone-still expression gave her a dozen warnings without saying a thing.
Do not mention his name at this table.
Do not say you’re seeing that man.
Do not.
She could hear exactly what her father was thinking. She didn’t need him to actually verbalize it.
Catherine figured now was as good of a time as ever to make her position clear with her family, and her father. Maybe then, Dante would finally back off.
“Catherine?” Cecelia asked. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Well … we’re trying things out again,” Catherine decided to say after a moment.
“Again.”
“She’s talking about the—”
“Hush, Andino,” Giovanni barked from his seat.
Andino shot his father a glare, and shoved another forkful of potatoes into his mouth, mumbling, “Fine.”
“Cross Donati,” Catherine told her grandmother. “Do you remember him?”
For a second, Cecelia couldn’t hide her surprise. Her gaze widened, and her mouth popped open as her gaze drifted to Catherine’s father, but her grandmother quickly schooled her expression. “Well, yes. I think we all remember that young man.”
Catherine smiled. “Saves me the time of explaining, then.”
“Catherine, can I speak to you for—”
“No,” Catherine interrupted her father. “You cannot.”
“Catty.”
“I’m eating, Daddy.” Catherine waved at their family. “We’re all eating.”
Dante’s expression hardened instantly. “Catherine.”
Without looking up from her plate, Catherine simply said, “I already told you that you don’t have to like it, Daddy. As far as I understand it, you’ve made it quite clear to Cross just how much you don’t like it, actually. I wonder, what happens if the next time someone approaches him, I’m there, too? Might that be … dangerous for me?”
“We’re not discussing that at this table, Catherine.”
She looked up at her father. “We won’t discuss it at all. Yes, I’m dating Cross again … or, we’re attempting something of the sort. No, you don’t get a choice. Stop trying to intimidate him to stay away from me. It won’t work, and it might actually get one of us hurt. Then what, Daddy?”
Dante’s gaze blazed.
Catherine only shrugged, and looked down the table to the rest of her family. “So, that’s that. What else is new? Anyone?”
No one said a thing. Catherine felt awkward as hell, but it had needed to be done.
Michel cleared his throat beside her. “Gabbie and I are expecting.”
Catherine didn’t miss how Gabbie’s head snapped to the side so that she could stare at her husband with wide eyes. Clearly, she had not been expecting him to announce their little secret like that.
Instantly, congratulations lit up the table. Attention was gone from Catherine. Her brother passed her a sly smile like he knew exactly what he had done.
“Thanks,” she mouthed.
Michel nodded.
Sometimes, her brother was a shit.
Right then, he was her savior.
What was family for?
“Catherine, please let me—”
Catherine shrugged out of her father’s hold. She stepped aside as her aunts and uncles came down the hall, and disappeared into the sitting room. Her mother was probably still helping to clean in the kitchen.
“What, Daddy?”
Dante frowned. “I’m sorry, Catty.”
She held her ground, refusing to let his apology soften her. She didn’t entirely know what he was apologizing for, after all. She wasn’t going to just assume.
“For?”
“Making this more difficult than it needs to be,” her father said quietly.
“What is this exactly?”
Dante shook his head. “Catherine.”
“I’m serious. A lot has happened or been said. You couldn’t even let me tell my grandmother that I was seeing Cross without making it obvious that you have a problem.”
“Because I do have problems with it!”
Catherine nodded, and turned away. “Okay, I’m done. I have some studying to—”
“I’ll back off,” Dante said quickly.
She didn’t turn around. “Will you?”
“If that’s what you need.”
“And you’ll keep your opinions to yourself,” she pressed.
Dante blew out a hard breath. “That’s going to be easier said than done.”
“Try.”
“I do not like that man, Catherine.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I don’t trust him.”
“I can’t help that, Daddy.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“Then let me be that,” Catherine said. “This isn’t hard to figure out, Daddy.”
Dante turned her around so that she faced him. “I don’t want you to be angry with me. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t want you to control my life. I don’t like that.”
He scowled. “I’m not—”
“You are.”
“Protecting you is controlling you?”
“It is when the only thing you’re protecting is some false idea you’ve created in your own head. Your fears are not mine. Maybe this is going to be nothing,
or maybe it’ll be something. That’s for me to figure out. Okay?”
Dante pushed a stray wave of Catherine’s hair behind her ear. “Visit us this week, Catherine. Stop ignoring us.”
“You, not Ma.”
“Me, then. Stop ignoring me.”
“It doesn’t feel good when someone you love makes choices that hurt you, does it?”
Dante looked upward with a chuckle. “I deserved that one.”
“I’ll come over.”
“Alone,” her father added. “I mean, I will back off, but … you have to help a bit. So yes, alone.”
“Obviously.”
Catherine considered that a battle won.
“Small change of plans.”
Cross scowled. “That’s a bad choice of words the moment I step into a warehouse ready to finish up my plan for running these guns, Andino.”
Andino waved Cross’s statement off. “It’s not going to bother your plans that much. If anything, it might make things easier.”
“It better be good,” he warned.
“It’s about the boat,” Andino said.
“The yacht you want me to use, you mean.”
“Yeah, it belongs to a friend. The captain regularly makes side trips, if you know what I mean. The timing of this run is going to coincide with a pickup he needs to make in Cancun.”
“Keep going.”
“He’s not going to be able to bring you back up to the States, that’s all,” Andino said. “He’s going to spend a bit of time in Cancun while the Mexican Navy is doing a drill in the Gulf. Then you’ll be able to take the boat out yourself for the drop.”
“But after?”
“After, when you bring the boat back in, he’s got elsewhere to go. You’re going to have to stay in Cancun.”
“So, I don’t have a fucking way home is what you’re trying to tell me.”
Andino looked up from the map he had spread out on the table. “Technically, yes.”
“You’re a shit.”
“But,” Andino drawled with a glare, “I did get you set up with a private jet. Bit more money than I wanted to spend on this run, but if it makes your stupid ass less whiney, why not?”
“I’m not whiney. I’m—”
“Extremely annoying when you have to change your plans,” Andino interrupted.