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 approached his bedside and took a seat in the empty chair meant for visitors.
Wordlessly, he stared at me.
I couldn’t figure out exactly what Rocco had been through because his injuries were hidden underneath his gown, but if his body looked anything like his face, then he was lucky to be alive. “You all right?”
“I’m supposed to be dead—so, could be worse.”
I didn’t chuckle, even if it was a joke. Nothing was funny right now. “What happened?”
“Tried to take down Darius. He decided he needed a matching nightstand, so he tried to shove me into one of his oil drums alive. It got rough. Only got away by chance, but not before he messed me up pretty bad.”
My eyes moved to the TV because it was easier to look at the news than visualize his tale.
“It’s not the first time I’ve tried to kill him, but he’s never alone, so it’s hard to manage.”
“I’m sorry, man.”
“I’ll be fine, Constantine.”
“No. I’m sorry that you’ve had to do this alone.” I kept my eyes on the TV because it was too hard to look at him. “I’m sorry I turned my back on you . . . our city . . . the Republic.”
A long stretch of silence passed, packed with things unsaid.
I didn’t expect him to forgive me or even acknowledge what I’d said. But I wanted to say it anyway. Our friendship was probably beyond repair at this point.
“You put your family first—as every man should.”
My eyes left the TV to look at him, to verify he’d actually said the words I’d just heard.
“You didn’t have another choice. I shouldn’t have made you feel like shit about it.”
I was stunned into silence, feeling the invisible weight I carried slowly leave my shoulders.
“It’s better for you to be there for her than to be in this hospital bed like me.”
“You shouldn’t be in this hospital bed either.”
He looked back at the TV and watched it for a while.
It was tense and awkward, like we didn’t know how to talk to each other.
“You came all the way here to see me?” he asked.
“I came all the way here to kill that asshole and protect the Republic.”
He looked at me instead of the TV.
I held his gaze. “I’ve got to kill him, Rocco. I can’t let him come for Aurelia and the others.”
He stared at me for a while before he gave a nod. “Yeah, I know.”
“I know you feel like shit right now and look like shit too—but you’ve got to get out of this bed and help me.”
Rocco signed all the paperwork to indicate he understood he was declining care from the hospital and leaving against their medical advice. He’d just had adnominal surgery due to the lacerations he’d taken from Darius’s knife, and he was being held together by long lines of stitches.
He got dressed in front of me, and that’s when I saw the extent of the damage. “Damn.”
“Asshole got me good,” he said. “What’s the plan?”
“Tommaso and Cosa Nostra are here to help.”
“Good.”
“And I cashed in the debt from the Fifth Republic. Luca’s probably here or almost here. Told him to handle the gangs.”
“You don’t think that will piss off Darius?”
“Darius will think twice before starting a war with the Fifth Republic. Right now, I want him to focus on you.”
“Me?” he asked before he pulled his shirt over his head. “This fucking rag doll?”
“You think he’ll want to finish the job?”
He covered the extent of his injuries beneath his clothes before he started to get his shoes on. “He did say I would make a nice addition to his bedroom set. I’ve been the one consistently pushing back against him. The last resistance of the Roman Republic. Says I’m a modern-day Marcus Aurelius.”
“Quite the compliment.”
He released a quiet chuckle. “Pretty sure it wasn’t meant to be one.”
For a millisecond, I was frozen in time, reunited with the casual banter we’d shared for years. Felt like old times . . . like we weren’t in the midst of a war. I blinked, and then it was gone, the present conflict coming back to the forefront. “I don’t have much time before he realizes I’m here. I’m not sure if he’ll come for me or . . . hit me where it hurts.”
“The second one,” he said. “So we’ve got to move quickly.”
“You think he’s at the palace?” My fucking house.
“I don’t know. Our brawl happened outside the Quirinal Palace.”
The Quirinal Palace was the private residence of the Italian president. And that meant President Barsetti was either in trouble or he was dead. “What happened?”
“He forced President Barsetti to step down. Darius says there’s no such thing as a republic when there’s a king. I don’t know what happened to Barsetti, because when I got there, I almost died. The military police showed up, and an ambulance took me. Not sure what came after that.”