A Legacy Novel

She was once his liar.
He was once her savior.

Cross Donati fills his days with the mafia, family, and responsibility. The wild boy is a distant memory. A waiting prince now sits in his place. An old debt puts the gunrunner right back into the path of his past, but he only sees his future.

Every king needs a queen.

Catherine Marcello learned how to stand on her own, and she no longer needs saving. The sly girl is far more dangerous now. A broken promise taught her how to live again. One conversation puts the hustler face to face with her first love, but she only sees heartache.

Every God needs a prayer.

The scars of their history runs deep. Every lie told, and each secret spilled hurts a little bit more.

Love does not care.
Love will not wait.

So, why does life keep standing in the way?

***

Revere is A Legacy Novel. While it can be read as a follow up to Always, it can also be read as a standalone novel.

Excerpt

“You didn’t answer me. How have you been, babe?”

“I’ve been okay,” she replied.

Cross smiled, but he thought maybe she was only saying that for his benefit. “Still running for your cousin?”

“Maybe.”

Catherine had always been good at three things: loving him, hustling drugs, and lying. Cross doubted much of that changed.

“Sure you are. Why else would you be here?”

Catherine waved at her plate. “Delicious food.”

“Mmhmm.”

Before he could think better of it, Cross reached across the table and grabbed Catherine’s hand. The dozens of bangles on her wrist jingled against the tabletop. He found her skin was still soft, warm, and all his. He squeezed her hand and ran the pad of his thumb across her knuckles. Her fingers trembled just a second before she tugged her hand away.

“Don’t do that, Cross,” Catherine said.

She didn’t want him to see the way she hid her hands from his sight. It was too late; he couldn’t possibly miss it. Only once in their long relationship had Cross truly missed something Catherine wanted to hide from him, and it had been their ruin.

He was never going to make that mistake again.

“Still as stubborn as ever, I see.”

“You liked it,” she retorted, unable to stop her grin.

“I might still.”

Catherine’s eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

No.

Stupid.

Bad.

He was going to get his ass shot.

He had been warned.

Cross didn’t drop his gaze, or move an inch.

“Uh …”

“Go out with me,” he said.

Catherine didn’t blink. “Um.”

“Come on, Catty, you always had a quick response for everything I or anyone else ever said. Don’t disappoint me now.”

“Cross—”

“Catherine, hey.” A man wearing a chef’s jacket that Cross didn’t recognize—and didn’t fucking care to—strolled up to their table. He wore a cocked eyebrow and an irritating smile. Cross considered stabbing the man with the knife on the table just because he interrupted. That shit was rude. “Andino was asking if you were still here. He wants you to head back to the office for a few.”

Catherine blinked up at the man, clearly recognizing him. Cross certainly didn’t like the way the man looked at Catherine like the two were … familiar.

Were they?

He didn’t know.

Cross would bet the man certainly wouldn’t want to know what he would do to him if he did know.

“Who is this, Catherine?” the guy asked. “You haven’t mentioned having a friend.”

Cross didn’t miss the man’s resentment in his words. Definitely something there, he thought. He met the man’s gaze for a brief second, and then dropped it just as fast. Whoever the fuck he was, the guy wasn’t important to Cross.

At all.

“Thanks for letting me know about Andino, Jamie.” Catherine let out a sigh, and stood from the table leaving her unfinished plate and Cross behind. “Cross, it was nice seeing you.”

Cross smiled and murmured, “Likewise, Catherine.”

She stiffened a bit. Something that looked a hell of a lot like memories flashed in her eyes. Then, she was gone.

Jamie, the irritating chef, stayed behind. “Can I help you?”

“Sure,” Cross said with a flick of his wrist, “by fucking off somewhere.”

“Excuse—”

“I said what I said, so go.”

“I don’t know who the fuck you are, but—”

“Andino does, so run back and let him know I’m here.”

“And who are you exactly?”

“Cross Donati.” He looked up at Jamie and smirked. “Or you might know me as the reason you couldn’t keep Catherine interested long enough to get anywhere good.”

Jamie’s face whitened.

Cross flicked his wrist again. “Now do as I said, and fuck off somewhere.”

The man fucked off.

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About the Author

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something … when she can find the time.

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