Dante (34 page)

“Look,” Cat whispered to her husband teasingly. “They’re welcoming me.”

“Hush,” Dante said, smiling slyly.

The room was deathly still as Dante walked his wife across the floor to the head of the table. Several tables had been pushed together to create one long conference area. Lucian shot Dante a look Cat couldn’t decipher as she took a seat Giovanni offered. Dante stood behind his wife with his hands on the back of her chair. She didn’t like that she couldn’t see his face, but decided this wasn’t the time to push it.

When Dante pushed Cat’s chair in, the rest of the men sat down.

“Evening, gentlemen,” Dante greeted.

Silence.

Dante had told her to behave, but he said nothing about making the other men uncomfortable. There was nothing Cat did better than unsettle men. Cat shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and surveying the men watching her like she was a foreign object about to lodge in one of their eyes.

Several gazes caught her form, raking over her features, taking her in. Cat didn’t mind, she was used to being looked at like a piece of prized meat. Despite her husband’s light protesting earlier that morning about her choice of what to wear, Cat made a special effort to appear a certain way for the meeting of the bosses. Her signature bodycon-style dress, black, spiked heels to accentuate her legs, smoky eyes, and blood red lips.

Sure, Dante would have to resist beating the hell out of a few people, but that wasn’t anything new. Cat needed to be on her game, which mean she needed the men around her to be completely thrown off theirs. A woman like her, looking a certain way, would do just that.

Her husband, however, didn’t have the same kind of patience for the nonsense she did. Dante was a jealous man and Cat loved it.

“I realize my wife is beautiful, and I’ll take your visual surveying as a compliment, but right now you’re pissing me off,” Dante said warningly. “And worse, if you keep looking at my wife like you want to fuck her, I’m going to start nailing people to the wall with bullets.”

Throats cleared around the room and gazes shifted from Cat’s body to her face.

Dante’s hand rested to Cat’s shoulder, his fingers grazing her neck. “Thank you.”

Cat reached up and patted her husband’s hand. “Who needs to behave now?” 

Dante huffed under his breath. “Some of you already know my wife, but for those who don’t, her name is Catrina Marcello. She goes by Cat to me and our family, so don’t be surprised if my brothers regard her as such. Beware, calling her Cat without her permission may earn you a slice or two from her claws. She is half-Sicilian, half-American-Italian. We married a few months ago in our family’s church with close friends and family as our only guests.

“Cat is an extremely successful Queen Pin and her profession takes her across the country handling a variety of clientele that some men in this room would die to have connections for,” Dante continued, keeping a confident, cool tenor. “She is, in all aspects of the Marcello family, my partner. And not just as my wife. Believe me when I say she has earned the respect of a couple of men in this room already, as well as my men, simply by being who she is.”

“And I’m wonderful,” Cat added, laughing lightly. “In a very terrible way.”

Giovanni chuckled to Cat’s left. “I think the word you’re looking for is hellish.”

“Be nice, Giovanni.”

Dante ignored his brother and tugged on a lock of Cat’s hair gently. “You are.” Turning his attention back to the table, Dante said, “My father has formally stepped down and has been for a while now. My seat was chosen and given without issue or refute. I’ve met every requirement demanded by the Commission in order for me to be a suitable Don for the Marcellos. Would anyone like to object to my leadership in New York?”

Again, nothing but stares answered them back. Cat was getting bored.

Cat tilted her head back and smiled up at Dante in a way she knew looked as sardonic as her next words. “If they continue this silent treatment, it’s going to be a short meeting.”

“That it is,
Amore
,” her husband agreed. 

“Not that I mind,” Cat added, pulling out her nail file from her clutch. Nothing pissed men off more than when a woman acted as if they didn’t matter. She went about buffing her nails. “I have things to do, so the quicker this is done with, the better.”

“Like what?” Terrance asked. “Getting your nails done?”

Cat flashed her teeth at the man in a sneer, canting her head as if he were a small child needing a scolding. “Perhaps, they are feeling terribly underused this week. I’ve been looking for the right throat to rip out and yours just might do.”

Dante chuckled. “Enough, Catrina.”

“I have no issue with your new status,” Maximo stated, his voice turning dangerously calm. “I do, however, take issue with you bringing a woman to this—”

“This woman is my wife,” Dante interrupted sharply. “And she is not like your wife, or anyone else’s wife in this room today. As I already said, she is also my partner, which means if I choose to bring her along as a councillor because our businesses tend to intermingle and what benefits me is also good for her, I have every right to do that.”

“She is a woman!” Terrance barked. “Women are not allowed in—”

“You are not Cosa Nostra,” Dante replied, shutting the man up instantly. “It would be extremely wise of you to remember that right now, Terrance. You choose not to follow the rules the rest of the men in this room do, so do not throw them in my face when it feels convenient for you to do so.”

“I also don’t like this,” the Guzzi leader at the end said, his dark brow lifting in Cat’s direction. “Women in business never mix well.”

Dante moved to the side, pulling out a chair and sitting beside Cat. “Mine does.”

“You’re making a charade of Cosa Nostra, and I can’t accept that,” Maximo said from across the table.

Dante shrugged under his black suit jacket. “Then ask me to leave.”

The men were quiet.

“You won’t though, will you?” Dante asked, humor coloring his words. “Because if the Marcellos leave this table, the rest of you might as well go, too. In one way or another, too much of your business is tied to New York and the families here. Without our contacts in the shipping district, many of you would need to rethink your imports.”

“Without our contacts in the political scene, some of you wouldn’t be nearly as integrated into the political side of things as you are,” Lucian added.

Giovanni laughed. “I’m just here for the show.”

Dante gave his younger brother a look, and Cat suppressed her knowing smile.

“Regardless, it gives you some things to consider,” Dante said, resting his hands to the table and lacing his fingers. “How many times have the Marcellos offered protection to one of you, or even pulled their weight with connections to take the heat off your mistakes? We are the dominating family at this table both in size and territory. We are the most profitable, and because we tend to work with others, if we cut you off in some areas, your connections to New York will drop like flies. Trust me when I say the families in this state have no issue with accepting my wife into the fold for their own gain.”

“Are you trying to suggest we might think of you as the
capo di tutti capi
at this table?” Maximo asked.

“Absolutely not,” Dante answered.

Cat didn’t bother to hide her smile that time. Dante’s unspoken words were a hell of a lot louder than his actual ones
: But we both know I am
.

“I would like something clarified,” a voice to Cat’s far left said.

She tensed at Carl Calabrese’s arrogant tone. She disliked him from their first meeting, but she also knew he wouldn’t take issue with her. Not after their dinner and Dante’s offer.

“What’s that, Carl?”

“A rumor has been going around,” he said.

“Oh?”

“Yes, that you adopted a little boy.”

Dante straightened in his chair as every gaze landed on him. He had forewarned Cat their son might be brought up at the meeting, but she didn’t like the way the word
adopted
was all but spit from the man’s lips. As if Michel was worth less than any other child because of the way he became Dante’s son.

“What about it?” Dante asked.

“It’s true?”

“Adoption isn’t looked highly upon,” Terrance put in, shaking his head. “And not just by Cosa Nostra this time, Dante.”

“He’s my son,” Cat said, wanting to take the attention off her husband for the moment. “And not in the adopted way, but biologically, he’s mine. My reasons for keeping him from my husband’s attention were for the little boy’s safety from his biological father.”

“Where is his father?” Maximo asked.

“Dante is his father,” Lucian said instantly.

“His real father, then.”

“Dead,” Dante murmured. “And my son won’t miss a thing with the man in the ground where he belongs. Technically, my adoption of him can be considered safe, and since he has no family but my wife, there would be no future issue with anyone else. Can we move on? Michel’s status as my son is solid—I won’t argue about it.”

“You know,” Cat said quietly, bringing everyone back to her as she began buffing her nails again. “Arguing over whether or not I have the balls to sit at this table with the rest of you is pointless. I have little to prove to any of you, nor do I have to. So, you can choose to keep acting like you’re afraid that a pair of tits and a set of ovaries might have something important to say, or we can sit down like the business people we are and get to work. Your choice, boys.”

Dante leaned back in his chair, unfazed at Cat’s side. “I think she said that quite well, don’t you?”

The men started talking.

Chapter Twenty

A two-year-old Johnathan ran past his uncle’s legs, his forehead missing the corner of the kitchen counter by only millimeters. Dante tried hard not to laugh when the kid lost his footing at the surprise turn and toppled head over heels to the floor. It wasn’t a blink before Johnathan was back up on his feet, brushing off the fall like it never even happened, and running right back out of the kitchen.

Dante shook his head, wondering where Johnathan got his constant energy. Lucian was always so laidback. Well, unless someone pissed him off, but that wasn’t even remotely the same as Johnathan’s hyperactivity. Johnathan was like a toddler on fucking
speed
.

There was something about his oldest nephew that always made Dante happy, no matter what his day was going like. Johnathan seemed to have that effect on everyone. The kid was always trying to pull some nonsense that had hilarity ensuing. He certainly gave Lucian and Jordyn a run for their money.

Dante turned to the three women sitting around his new kitchen table playing a game of cards. The brothers, their wives, and the kids still went to Antony’s and Cecelia’s for Sunday dinner, but Saturdays were now reserved for their families to get together and do whatever. This Saturday was Dante and Catrina’s, which usually meant barbeque, beer, and no business for the brothers.

Catrina and Dante had settled in their new home a half of a year earlier. Sometimes he missed his condo, but mostly, he loved his home. Because he made it with his wife and son.

“Jesus, he’s got energy to burn,” Dante said, chuckling.

Jordyn smiled from her spot at the table. “Tell me about it. He might as well get it out of his system while we’re at your house. He’s less likely to break something at home that way.”

“Thanks for that,” Catrina replied, popping her middle finger up at the same time.

“Hey, just saying it like I see it.”

“Clearly you’ve been spending too much time near Giovanni,” Kim said, glancing at the cards face up around the table and then at her own hand. She hummed indecisively before folding her hand. “You should stop that before you catch his nonsense like a bad habit you can’t break.”

“Are you fucking counting cards again?” Jordyn asked, eyes narrowing. “You’re such a cheater!”

“I am not!”

“That’s a habit right there,” Catrina put in, jerking her thumb in Kim’s direction. “She does it every time, and you keep expecting her to stop. She’s never going to stop. Addiction is a disease, don’t you know.”

“I was not counting!” Kim half-yelled, laughing.

“Liar,” Jordyn muttered. “Don’t know why I play poker with you. Even your own husband refuses to play with you.”

“That’s not why he won’t play. Gio just doesn’t like to be beat at his own games.”

Dante hid his grin from the women, knowing they’d turn on him. Leaning on the counter, Dante nodded at Jordyn and asked, “How’re you going to keep up with Johnathan when the next one gets here?”

Jordyn shrugged, her hand falling to the roundness of her midsection. “Coffee. Lots of coffee.”

“And a benny or two,” Kim joked.

Jordyn snorted under her breath. “Hey, I’m not ruling that out, yet.”

Jordyn was just over eight months along in her pregnancy. It wouldn’t be long before the first Marcello
principessa
for the next generation was going to be making her appearance. There was a whole new level of excitement for the family with this baby.

Good God. A
daughter
. Dante hoped his brother was ready for that world of trouble right there.

Catrina caught Dante’s eye across the room, her eyebrow cocking. “What are you doing in here, anyway?”

“Forgot my sauce.”

“Well, get it and get out. We were having a nice non-male involved conversation before you came in.”

Dante could see the humor glittering in his wife’s gaze, but he still acted offended. “This is my house!”

“My kitchen,” Catrina retorted. “The only things you own in this room is your shelf in the fridge, your chair at the table, and that ugly coffee cup in the cupboard. Now get out.”

Damn it. It was like growing up in his parents’ home all over again.

“Besides, Dante, are you interested in having a discussion on the postpartum side of pregnancy?”

Dante cringed. Nope, he most certainly was not interested.

“Later, ladies.”

Laughter followed him as he grabbed the container he needed from the fridge and made a hasty exit. There were some conversations men did not need to have or be a part of. That was one of them.

Dante was not getting caught up in that mess.

• • •

Dante fell into the lawn chair, taking the beer he was offered by Lucian and handing over the container of sauce as he sat. As his brother made the move to go towards the house, Dante muttered, “I wouldn’t do that, man.”

Lucian turned, brow lifting. “Why?”

“They’re a particular brand of their special kind of nasty today.”

“But … my whiskey is in your freezer. I can’t make whiskey chicken with no whiskey, Dante.”

“Not my kitchen,” Dante replied, repeating his wife’s words. “You should have put it on my shelf in the fridge. And guessing from Catrina’s spiel this morning before you guys got here, she’s
this close
to labeling the damn shelf. So hey, pretty soon you won’t even have to guess which one is mine.”

Gio chuckled at Dante’s left. “She’s just like Mom.”

Dante scowled. “Don’t say that shit. It really screws with my head. There’s nothing sexy about that thought.”

“What, like you married your moth—”

“I said don’t fucking say it!”

Lucian didn’t even try to hide his amusement. “They get worse and worse every time they all get together in the same room. I swear to fuc—” His eyes cut to his son running across the lawn with a miniature wooden baseball bat in hand. “—fudging God they feed off one another.”

“Like Johnathan doesn’t know the word fuck,” Gio said, scoffing.

Dante popped the top off his beer, tossed the cap into a steel can, and took a long swig. “Truth.”

“Because you taught it to him, Gio,” Lucian grumbled. “Jordyn still doesn’t believe me when I tell her that, by the way.”

“Hey, at least I had the insight to teach him how to use it properly. Give me credit where it’s due.”

“That’s not the point, Gio. Besides, you ought to curb your own mouth, considering …” Lucian trailed off, shooting a pointed glance at the baby boy snuggled into his youngest brother’s chest.

Gio shrugged, his hand rhythmically patting Andino’s bottom to keep him asleep. “I’ve still got time before I need to worry. Should have known your kid was going to pick up some bad habits off me eventually, man.”

Dante shook his head, still disbelieving that Giovanni was a father to a nine-week-old son. It wasn’t that Gio was a bad father, because he wasn’t. He was great, actually, and that was a little surprising, too. Maybe it shouldn’t have been, but shit, it was
Gio
.

Gio was the biggest mess of the three brothers growing up. There was no self-control or restraint. His attitude towards life in general was frightening at times. If someone would have told Dante his younger brother would grow the fuck up, settle the hell down, and be a dad—a great one who was totally enamoured and in love with his son—he might not have believed it back then.

A father. Gio was a father. A
dad
.

Kind of crazy.

“Baseball!” Johnathan shouted repeatedly the closer he came to Lucian. “I wants baseball,
Papà
!”

“You want to play baseball,” Lucian corrected.

Johnathan’s foot stomped into the ground. “
I says that
!”

Lucian sighed. “You need the ball, too. Go find it and we’ll play.”

Johnathan dropped the bat to the ground and turned on his heel at the same time, running back towards the garage where all the outside toys were kept. Once the kid was out of sight, Dante turned back to his younger brother.

“When’s your next one coming?” Dante jokingly asked Gio.

Gio smirked. “It’s not. I got clipped at Andino’s two week checkup. One and done, Dante.”

“Seriously?” Lucian asked.

“Yeah. Did it right in the doctor’s office. If you don’t watch, it’s not that bad.”

“No, I mean, you’re done having kids altogether?”

“I just said that, Lucian. Clean out your fucking ears.”

Dante was confused as hell. “But you’re a great dad.”

Gio waved the comment off. “So I’ll be great to only Andino. One felt right. Kim and I are fine with stopping at him.”

Quiet childish murmurings and giggles coming from the baby monitor beside Dante stopped him from questioning Gio further. Knowing Catrina was thoroughly enjoying herself inside with the other girls, Dante didn’t want to interrupt his wife to go fetch Michel from his nap. Excusing himself, he slipped back into the house and trekked upstairs to find his nearly two-year-old adopted son bouncing up and down in his crib.

He probably should have been out of the damn thing by now and into a toddler bed, but Michel was too curious for his own good and got into everything.

“What are you doing,
piccolo
?” Dante asked, picking the brown-eyed boy up. 

“Out,
Papà
.”

“Come see Daddy, Michel.”

The big grin his son sported at merely being in the presence of his father warmed Dante instantly. There were so many things in life Dante thought he would have to live without—the child in his arms being one; the woman downstairs with his last name who he loved entirely being two.

After all, if he couldn’t offer a woman the normal things that came along with love and marriage, what did he really have to give?

Not a lot.

Dante couldn’t have been more wrong.

It had always been a wonder of Dante’s how his father Antony never treated Lucian any differently from his other sons. It wasn’t that he thought his father loved Lucian in a lesser way, but maybe that it couldn’t possibly be the same as the children he helped create.

Again, Dante was crazy wrong.

For Catrina and Michel, Dante
lived
. No one else gave him those feelings or that desire. No one in the world could bring forth the almost possessive need to protect, cherish, and love like his wife and son.

And Michel … God,
Michel
.

All brown eyes, blond hair, and little fingers waving.

Every little inch of him was amazing.

The child may not have shared Dante’s blood or his genes, but he sure as hell shared everything else. From the moment he held the boy for the first time, Dante didn’t care about what might have been, or could have been. He let his lingering anger towards his wife for her lies go—he loved.

More than he ever thought possible, he
loved
.

“Guess who’s here?” Dante asked his son while he changed Michel’s clothes into something suitable for playing outside. “Uncle Lucian … Johnathan … and—”

“
Kunckle Gio
!”

Dante laughed. There was something about Gio the kids adored. It was probably his lack of a filter and the fact everyone was always giving him shit for something or other, much like the kids. Gio was also uninhibited in basically everything he did, so fun was a guarantee whenever he was involved.

Tugging on Michel’s pants, and putting on a pair of small Adidas sneakers, Dante set his son down to the floor. Michel was out of the room in a flash, tiny feet smacking all the way down the hall. Dante ran to catch up, keeping close as his boy maneuvered his way down the stairs.

Dante was just passing the kitchen and happened to notice his wife wasn’t sitting at the table with Kim and Jordyn. He let Michel go on ahead, waiting as his son pulled open the porch doors and disappeared outside.

“Where’s Cat?” Dante asked, popping inside the kitchen.

Jordyn looked up from her phone. “You didn’t see her upstairs?”

“No.”

“That’s where she went, I guess. Something about a load of clothes in the washer.”

Dante nodded and slipped back out of the kitchen. He didn’t make his way outside, though. Instead, he went in search of his wife. Catrina was anal about keeping the house clean, laundry managed, and everything in order, but never on the days when their family was there. Something felt off, so he followed his gut.

Sure enough, the laundry room upstairs was empty. The attached bathroom to their master bedroom, however, was not. The anxious stare Catrina wore mixed in with her teeth chewing on her bottom lip said Dante was correct in thinking something might be wrong.

“What’s up?” Dante asked his wife, leaning in the doorway.