Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95013 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I headed straight home, and when I walked in the door, I ignored Medusa, who came over to greet me. I headed right past her into the living room, but Constantine wasn’t there. I looked out the floor-to-ceiling glass windows to the terrace outside.
I saw him standing there at the railing, in just his black sweatpants and nothing else, his hands gripping the iron rail as he looked out at the sea.
All I could see was his back . . . and I knew.
I headed outside and approached him from behind. I knew he could hear me behind him, but he still didn’t turn around. He remained slightly bent over the railing as he looked at the view that would have been breathtaking any other day.
I stepped up to his back and pressed my forehead against his shoulder blades before I hugged his waist. I closed my eyes and held on to him for comfort—and to comfort him in return. I was devastated by what had happened, but I was even more devastated by how much this must kill him.
After a couple minutes of silence, he slowly turned around to look at me.
I’d only seen him look like this one other time. When he’d shown up with his crew to rescue me from Pierre and that organization. He’d been maniacal in his anger, ready to burn everyone to ash.
But he’d taken that anger to another level.
His eyes were wet like he’d shed tears, angry ones.
The veins were plump in his forehead in a way I’d never seen before. He had a red tint to his face like he’d gotten sunburned, but it was just the rage making all his tissues inflamed. The cords in his neck popped too, like he’d just gotten done lifting in the gym, but he probably hadn’t even had a chance to hit the gym that morning.
I was completely lost for words, having no idea what I could possibly do to make this better.
To make him feel better. To make me feel better . . .
Chapter 25
Constantine
The first person I called was Rocco, but he didn’t answer.
I didn’t assume the worst. I just figured he hated my guts even more now that Rome was on the brink of ruin and he blamed me for it. I walked back and forth across the terrace as I made more calls. Most of them went unanswered, and others who did pick up said they parted ways with Rocco when I left.
Aurelia sat on one of the couches with Medusa and watched me pace. She didn’t try to tell me everything would be all right, soothe my anger with meaningless words, fill the dead air with empty promises.
I finally reached someone who had some answers. “Hey, Roger. I’m trying to track down Rocco. Know how I can get ahold of him?”
The sounds of conversation were all around him, like he was among a large group of people. All the voices sounded male, so he wasn’t home with family but still with the crew. The talking died away as he headed elsewhere so we could hear each other. “Rocco got messed up bad. Ambulance took him to the hospital, and I haven’t heard anything since.”
I came to a halt on the terrace, unable to take in the beautiful sight of the sea in the distance. My heart turned to stone and dropped into the endless pit in my stomach.
“But from what I saw, I doubt he’ll make it.”
First, there was anger, the kind that made my eyes smart because the rage had no other pathway to escape my body. But the heartbreak came next . . . and then the guilt.
“The Roman Empire has fallen.”
I hung up the phone without saying a word and turned to Aurelia.
All it took was one look to get to her feet, to know whatever I had to say was important.
“Rocco’s in the hospital. Sounds like he won’t make it.”
Her hand immediately cupped her mouth, and she gasped. “Oh god . . . no.”
“I don’t know what happened.” The gunmen wouldn’t have been able to take him down, so I suspected it had something to do with Darius. Maybe Rocco had taken advantage of the chaos to try to decapitate the king.
Her eyes started to water, and she took a breath before she dropped her hands. “You have to go, Constantine.” She looked at me with wet eyes full of sincerity that shone from her soul.
“You know I can’t—”
“Save Rocco while you still can,” she said through her tears. “He might make it, but he won’t last long if Darius comes back to finish the job. Rome can still be saved, but you need to go now in order to save it. The Roman Empire needs its emperor, Constantine.”
Her voice was packed with emotion, packed with so much sincerity that I knew she meant every word she said. That she was putting our home and our people before herself.