Filthy Marcellos: Legacy: A Legacy Prequel

by Bethany-Kris

  “Fine, tomorrow.”

  “Good.”

  Lucian hung up the call before John could.

  Shoving his phone in his pocket, John took the first seat he could. Glancing up from his clenched hands that rested in his lap, he came face-to-face with sapphire eyes.

  John blinked.

  The woman smiled.

  She had a tablet in her hands and one earbud in her ear. A messenger bag rested at her feet, drawing John’s gaze down to the leather boots she wore. Skinny jeans showcased the length of her legs and the curve of her hips. He didn’t recognize her, but something about her was familiar.

  Tucking a strand of her caramel-toned curls behind her ear, the woman met his gaze again. His mouth went dry and he didn’t have the first clue of why. Maybe it was because he’d spent three years in prison and the only females he’d had contact with since he got out was family.

  Or maybe it was because the girl was fucking beautiful.

  Every part of him knew it.

  “Hi,” she said, still smiling.

  “Hi.” John grinned back. “Johnathan Marcello.”

  “The Johnathan Marcello?”

  John chuckled. “There’s only one alive in this city, as far as I know.”

  The woman’s smile turned wider. “Siena.”

  “Like the city in Italy?”

  “Just like that,” she replied.

  “A last name?” John asked.

  “Calabrese. It’s very nice to meet you, John.”

  Shit.

  Chapter Six

  CATHERINE

  Catherine stepped into the familiar restaurant and breathed deep. The comforting scents of pizza, pasta, and all the sauces that came along with the restaurant’s famous dishes washed over her senses. If there was one thing Andino Marcello knew, it was good Italian food. Her cousin owned half a dozen restaurants just like this one all over the city. This particular one happened to be Catherine’s favorite.

  Waving at the server as she passed the woman by, Catherine made a beeline straight for the back of the restaurant where she knew she would find her older cousin. The employees of the business never gave Catherine any trouble when she walked through the large kitchen in order to get to Andino’s office. They had all seen her come through there more than enough times before.

  “Catty,” the chef hollered from behind the stove. “You’re looking good, girl.”

  “Jamie,” Catherine said, smiling. “Do you have time to make me the usual?”

  “For you, of course.”

  “Great.”

  “Andino is in the back,” Jamie said.

  Catherine nodded, and walked on by. The chef had a few years on her twenty-five-years, but that didn’t mean Catherine hadn’t had her fun with the man a while back. She ended the no-strings relationship when Andino found out.

  The rules of their life was simple. Business and pleasure didn’t mix. Jamie was Andino’s employee, and in a way, so was Catherine.

  In a way …

  Jamie’s business with Andino was nothing like Catherine’s, but she gave her cousin the respect he was owed and bent to his demands to end the relationship. It seemed like so far there were no hard feelings with Jamie if his flirtatious nature was any indication.

  Catherine grinned at her thoughts as she pushed open the door to Andino’s office. The man never kept it locked, for whatever reason. She never knocked, either.

  Andino sat behind his oak desk with an opened laptop in front of him, and a dozen knickknacks scattered across several pieces of paper. He had to be the most disorganized person Catherine knew, but somehow, he always knew where everything was.

  Snaps, Andino’s pitbull, barely opened an eye when Catherine walked into the room. The massive, muscular pup simply wiggled his stubby tail and nothing else.

  “Hey,” Andino said without looking up from his laptop.

  “Hey.” Catherine tossed her bag to the empty chair and bent down to greet Snaps. She scratched behind the dog’s pointed ear and watched his stubby tail shake. “Some guard dog you are, Snaps. You don’t even alert that someone is coming.”

  Andino snorted under his breath. “Yes, he does. Why do you think you never get a gun to the face when you walk in here without knocking?”

  Catherine straightened. “Really?”

  Andino tapped his foot to the side of the desk. It rested directly beside Snaps’ large head. “He nudges my foot when someone is approaching the door.”

  “But that doesn’t tell you who is coming.”

  “If he didn’t know you, then you would know when you barged in here.”

  Catherine decided to take her cousin’s word for it. Snaps always seemed terribly lazy whenever she was around.

  “Do you have the dues?” Andino asked, still focused on his laptop.

  “Yes.”

  “Pay up, Catty.”

  Catherine wished people would forget that nickname of hers. Everyone called her mother Cat, and by default, she got labeled Catty. She hated it.

  “I’m going to start charging you for every time you or one of your guys calls me Catty, Andino.”

  Andino smirked, flicking Catherine with a dismissive look. “Sure. Pay up.”

  Grabbing her bag, Catherine opened the top and pulled out a yellow legal-sized envelope that was three inches thick. She tossed it to Andino’s desk. The heavy payment landed with a dull thud. Snaps lifted his head at the sound, but quickly dropped back to the floor like nothing was amiss.

  Lazy dog.

  Andino appraised the package with his eyes before he reached for it. Balancing it in his palm, he lifted it up and down like he was checking the weight.

  “Damn,” he muttered, approvingly. “How much?”

  “A little over one-fifty.”

  “In total?”

  “Yes. One-oh-five for you. Seventy percent, right?”

  Andino nodded. “Yes. That’s not bad for two months. You do realize I have dealers on the street that take a few months to bring in a haul like this, right?”

  Catherine shrugged. “I’m not like them, Andino.”

  “I’m aware. You’re being careful, aren’t you?”

  “I do okay,” she said instead of answering his question.

  The thing about Catherine’s business was that she wasn’t like every other dealer on the street. In fact, she didn’t even work in the damned streets to sell product for her cousin. She didn’t have to.

  Catherine Marcello was, and always had been, for as long as she could remember, one of the elite in New York. Some called her family royalty. Others called them a legacy, which afforded her the ability to be in situations with people who had more money than they knew what to do with. Her family’s status and last name gave her the chance to rub elbows with some of the best of the best. Rich, old money, and celebrity were her games. She played them well. Club scenes, charity events, exclusive parties, and spoiled little sons and daughters of people who would cry foul if their kids were ever caught up in a scandal.

  Yeah, Catherine knew her game.

  She wasn’t like Andino’s other dealers.

  “How much Molly and powder do you want for next month?”

  “Same as last.”

  Andino flashed her with a smile. “As long as you keep paying me, I’ll keep supplying, Catherine.”

  “You know it.” Catherine wondered where John was, as she thought her oldest cousin was supposed to be with Andino ever since he got released from prison. “Where’s John?”

  “Handling business.”

  In other words, none of her business.

  “Does he know I’m working with you on stuff?” she asked.

  “I’ll get around to filling him in.” Andino grinned wickedly, adding, “Or he’ll figure it out in his own time. John’s got a lot of catching up to do. Have you ever considered stepping out on your own with it all?”

  Catherine arched a brow high. “What would happen if I did step out on my own, Andino?”


  Andino chuckled quietly. “Well, you’d have to find another supplier, of course. But on the upside, you would have your own shit to manage and you could be your own boss instead of answering to me.”

  Like her mother had once done, Catherine thought.

  Catrina Marcello had once been the Queen. A supreme ghost Queen Pin in the world of celebrities, athletes, and politicians alike. Anyone who couldn’t afford a scandal, Catrina supplied with coke when they needed it, however they wanted it.

  Catherine, on the other hand, had stumbled into dealing by accident. She’d caught her brother working the private school’s locker rooms once, dealing Molly and weed to all the little rich kids who wanted a smoke or pill to pop before their games or exams. When Michel graduated and went on to Medical school, Catherine took over his spot as the school’s supplier when people came to her asking where they could get some substance from.

  She knew right where to go. Her whole family’s empire was made on drugs, guns, and territory. Her parents thought she had turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to their business growing up, but Catherine had access to the internet just like anybody else did.

  She was aware her cousins worked in Cosa Nostra. She knew her father was the Don. So, she went to John when kids started coming to her. When John had his spell a couple of years back, Catherine turned to Andino.

  The rest was history.

  But the money was damned good. Not that she needed it. Her family had more wealth than they knew what to do with. Catherine had a sizeable trust fund for her education and life after she finished her schooling.

  Somehow, her trust fund and her family’s money didn’t feel the same as making her own did. By her own hand, she was successful, respected, and wanted. She didn’t need to be her mother to have those things, either. She was just Catherine Marcello.

  “I don’t know,” Andino drawled, eyeing Catherine. “I think you could do it. Step out on your own and set something up, I mean. Without being the middle woman for your supplier, I mean.”

  “Like my mom did?” Catherine asked.

  Andino leaned back in his chair and rested his arms behind his head. “You’ve got to give the woman props, Catty, she was a hell of a dealer.”

  “I’m not using my mother’s name or history to get anywhere, Andino.”

  “I never suggested you should.”

  “Being her is the same thing. Besides, this is easier. Simple and clean.”

  Andino laughed as he pulled a black book out of his desk. He dropped it to the desk, opened it up, and scribbled Catherine’s numbers for the month. Her cousin always did that to keep track of their business dealings.

  “Just keep being careful, huh?” Andino said.

  Catherine nodded. “I am.”

  “Good. Because if your father ever figures out that a part of my dues are coming from his daughter, he’d cut my fucking balls off.”

  Yikes.

  “He won’t find out.”

  Andino scoffed. “Careful, Catty. You never know. Dante isn’t a stupid man, so don’t treat him like he is. Catrina isn’t an idiot, either, for that matter. Besides, as it is, you’re making quite a name at parties and whatnot. It won’t be long before your father or mother figures it out.”

  Catherine cringed. It wasn’t even the mention of her father that irked her, but her mother. Catrina, despite all her attempts to shelter Catherine from her Queen Pin dealings as she grew up, had failed. Catherine still dipped her hands into the water of the business.

  There was no such thing as being a little wet with the mafia. You were either soaked or dry. Women weren’t allowed to be in la famiglia. Cosa Nostra would never approve of Catherine’s dealings.

  “They’re too interested in making sure I’m not flunking out of college,” Catherine said, dismissing Andino’s concerns.

  And lately, even her desire to become a lawyer like her sister-in-law, Gabbie, was being forgotten more and more as her business on the side became prevalent in her day to day life. How long would it be before her mother and father found out she had dropped three classes last semester?

  Dammit.

  Maybe Andino had a point.

  “You have met your mother and father, right?” Andino asked.

  “Andino, be serious.”

  “I am. They know everything, even when we think they don’t. It’s their job. Why in the hell do you think Dante is still the boss at fifty-nine? If he was a stupider man, he’d be dead. The same goes for your mother. Chances are, they suspect or already know, Catherine.”

  “Now you’re just trying to freak me out.”

  “Twenty-five and the thought of your mother or father disapproving of you still drives you nuts, doesn’t it? You need to get over that and stand on your own, Catherine. Shit, I think your mother and father might even surprise you if you did speak up and let them in on your little side business. Stop being a pincipessa all of the damned time.”

  Catherine visibly bristled. “I have food waiting for me. Jamie is cooking my regular. I’ll be around to pick up my next batch on Monday. I’ve got a movie premier invite, after all. I need to be stocked up and ready for that. Okay?”

  “Deflection, nice.”

  “Go to hell, Andino.”

  Her cousin’s laughter followed her out of the office. She slammed his door hard enough to knock a handwashing sign off the kitchen wall. Snaps growled inside the office.

  “Don’t slam my door just because you’re pissy!” Andino shouted.

  Catherine kept on walking.

  Chapter Seven

  “Here you are, Catty,” Jamie said.

  A dish of fettuccini chicken Alfredo slid in front of Catherine. She slammed the textbook beside her closed, tossed it into her bag, and smiled.

  “Thanks, Jamie.”

  The chef leaned against the table. “How’s school?”

  “Busy.”

  “I bet. Still going for law?”

  “Trying,” Catherine said as she stabbed her fork into the hot pasta.

  “You know, it might help if you came here to visit Andino a little less, and spent more time at college”

  Catherine’s fork froze midway to her mouth. She glanced up at Jamie, her gaze narrowing. “Should I? Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind.”

  Jamie frowned. “Hey, I’m just looking out for you.”

  “Not your job.”

  “I—”

  “It’s not your job,” Catherine interrupted coolly. “Even when we were messing around, it still wasn’t your job. We’ve had this discussion before, and if I wanted rules and demands, I have a father to go to for that. Remember that talk?”

  Jamie straightened fast like someone had shoved a metal rod up his spine. “Yeah, I remember.”

  “Good.”

  “Enjoy your food.”

  Catherine smiled sweetly. “I will.”

  The chef stalked away without a look back. Catherine didn’t mind. Obviously, the man was a little sour over their kind of, sort of relationship coming to an end months ago. She had thought he was good with it, but maybe that was just her. Catherine didn’t know what to tell the guy except to move on. She already had.

  She enjoyed her pasta and chicken in peace while she got her textbook out and began to study for an upcoming exam on social conditions and factors of law in the factions of government. It sounded as boring as it read. Catherine still wasn’t sure why she decided to go into law. Honestly, she didn’t know what she wanted to do.

  Law probably wasn’t it.

  She didn’t have a choice, now.

  “I thought I recognized that face.”

  Catherine’s head popped up from her textbook as she withdrew the fork from her mouth. With a mouth full of pasta and wide eyes, she looked in the direction of the familiar voice. Dark, wild hair, broad shoulders, a cocky as fuck smirk, and a lean form waltzed toward Catherine’s direction with a stride that oozed confidence.

  Christ.

  Cross Donati was sex, sin, and hell on two
legs. He was arrogant when he wanted to be, difficult on his good days, and sexy as fuck all the times in between.

  Catherine wondered why in the hell Cross was anywhere near a Marcello business. While their families were friendly in the world of Cosa Nostra, territory was still territory. Cross had his own family and territory to be on.

  This was not it.

  “Catherine,” Cross said, his smirk melting into a sensual smile.

  She forced the mouthful of food down her throat just so she could take a breath and speak.

  “Cross. What are you doing here?”

  Cross shrugged, pulled out the chair across from Catherine, and sat down in a fluid motion. He radiated sexuality and coolness with every movement. “Business, bella. Nothing unusual.”

  Beautiful.

  Catherine ignored the shiver crawling down her spine.

  “It’s always unusual when Cosa Nostra families mingle.”

  “And what do you know about that, hmm?”

  “I know enough. I was never an idiot, Cross.”

  “No, that you were not.”

  His assertive posture and easy smile reminded her of what he’d been like back in high school and college as the king of the baseball field and the alpha everywhere else. He was a year older than her, but way back when, the two had been close … So close that he’d been Catherine’s first for a lot of things.

  “How have you been, Catherine?” Cross asked.

  She didn’t have a proper answer for him.

  His question felt laced with a great deal that he hadn’t actually said. Like time was catching up to them with just a few words. Her first kiss was Cross. Her first time with a man was Cross. He’d given her five crazy years full of more memories than she cared to count. Her first love was Cross.

  If she had a checklist handy of things she had done so far in her life, Cross’s name would own every mark.

  Being good together wasn’t always enough. When they were good, they were so good. But when they were bad, they were downright awful. Sometimes, they spent more time breaking up through high school and into her first year of college than they did being together. Young, stupid love wasn’t enough for it to work.