Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79336 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
He gave a nod in understanding.
“I need to speak to him, but I’m afraid I’ll kill him.”
With eyes that held no judgment for anyone on this earth, he continued to listen to me.
“You’re the only man he respects and reveres.” Because everyone in this country, and the world, revered the man before me. Whether you were a civilian or a criminal, it didn’t matter.
“It’s not my place, Constantine. All I can do is bring him closer to God.”
“But perhaps I can speak to him here—so I’ll behave and so will he.” Because all I’d want to do would be to pull out my knife and carve his mouth from his face, his eyes from their sockets. I couldn’t think of the man without my heart racing, without my blood pressure skyrocketing. Every fiber of my being wanted him dead, and I’d want him dead until I was dead myself.
After another round of packed silence, Pope Zephyrinus addressed my request. “My service is not only to God, but to my fellow man, to the people of this country, and to this world. So yes, I will mediate your meeting.”
“Thank you, Father.”
He gave a nod in acknowledgment. “How’s your family?”
“Good. Living their idyllic lives in Taormina.”
“And the restaurant?”
“Business is good. Too good, honestly.”
He gave a quiet chuckle. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had your mother’s arancini.”
“You’re always welcome for a visit, but we understand you have bigger obligations.” Like being the head of the Catholic Church and the most famous man alive.
“Maybe someday, Constantine.”
“Yeah, maybe someday.” We both spoke of it like it was a dream that would never come true.
“What else is new with you?”
I was the busiest I’d ever been at work. But that ebb and flow was typical. There was a reign of peace between the wars, and even though that period could be long, it felt so brief. “Well . . . I’ve met someone.” The smile that came on to my face was impossible to restrain. There had never been anyone in my life who made me as happy as she did . . . at least not in nine years.
“That’s wonderful, Constantine. Tell me about her.”
“Her name is Aurelia.”
“Gilded. Noble. Beautiful name.”
“Yeah, I like it too,” I said. “She . . . means a lot to me.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve had someone.”
A long time since Isabella. “It has.”
“I wish the two of you the best.” He rose to his feet, his hands together and hidden under the long sleeves of his robe.
I rose to my feet as well.
He came to me and blessed me. “God be with you, Constantine.”
“And with you, Uncle.”
Prologue II
Constantine
Six months had passed since I’d ended things with Isabella.
I took the ring back to the jeweler and lost a few thousand, but I was relieved to have it out of my home.
Out of my life.
Taormina was a small place, everyone knew each other, so while I had offers left and right from women who had shot their shot before, I kept to myself. I didn’t just do it out of respect for Isabella, but I wasn’t ready. I’d spent almost two years with her, and I’d really believed she would be my wife. The mother of my children. And the idea of being with someone else after such a committed relationship . . . nearly felt like infidelity. I had to move on at some point, but today wasn’t that day.
I still wouldn’t speak to my brother. Didn’t give a damn if he was my flesh and blood. He had stabbed me in the back and sabotaged a relationship he would have fumbled if it’d ever been his. He hadn’t actually tried to talk to me, like he understood an attempt was pointless.
I worked in the kitchen at Rosticceria Da Cristina in the morning, prepping everything for the day. I used to listen to music while I worked, but I hadn’t done that in six months. Silence was my companion of choice these days.
My mom opened the unlocked door and walked inside. “What did I tell you about locking the door, Con?”
My eyes stayed down, and I continued to work. “Didn’t know you were coming in today.”
“What does that matter—”
“I’m not in the mood for this.” I picked up the rack of arancini and slid it inside the oven so it could bake. I put all the other trays inside and then set the timer before I worked on the next batch. Keeping my eyes on my hands, I waited for my mother to walk into the office, but she just stood there.
“Constantine.”
She never called me by my full name, so I knew whatever she had to say was heavy. My head lifted to meet her gaze.
Her eyes shifted back and forth between mine. “This isn’t you, son.”
My face remained steady and stoic. Even though her words were painful because they rang true, I felt nothing. I had become an empty vessel that would shatter if I hit the floor.