Page 41 of Cross + Catherine: The Companion

He didn’t say who.

His brother didn’t need him to.

Their families did not hide things from each other.

“You cannot kill Cross Donati, Dante.”

“Can’t and shouldn’t are two very different things, Lucian.”

“Won’t, then. You won’t kill him,” Lucian said. “I’ll make sure of it. For you, though, not for him.”

“Put the gun away,” Lucian said from behind Dante.

Dante knocked on the penthouse door again instead. Footsteps echoed from behind the wood.

“Dante, do not do something you will—”

Cross opened the penthouse door, and Dante had already cocked back his arm, and then let the gun smash into the man’s face. Being pistol whipped was one thing—being beat with a gun like it was a man’s fist was quite another.

Split lip.

Bruised face.

Cross on the floor.

That’s what Dante wanted.

The sight of the blood already coming from Cross’s mouth and nose was good, but not quite good enough. Cross’s shouts echoed, but he didn’t fight back.

Dante just kept going.

Another hit with the gun.

A kick to the ribs, and then another.

More fists.

More kicks.

“Fuck,” Cross grunted, blood staining white teeth.

Cross tried to get away by turning to his side, and Dante reared back and kicked him in the face. Blood arched, and eyes rolled.

That might have been a bit much.

It still felt damn good to Dante.

“Dante, relax,” Lucian growled.

“Fuck off, Lucian. You relax. Let it be your daughter, and you fucking relax.”

“You can’t kill—”

“I can do whatever the hell I want to, actually.”

“You’re not above retribution for this just because you are a boss,” Lucian snarled.

Cross rolled to his back again, and Dante took great satisfaction in the sound of the man struggling to breathe. Blood spatters colored his lips. Bruises marred his face. He clutched at his ribs like they hurt, too.