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)
“Upon your word of peace, power will be granted,” President Barsetti said. “And you will serve the Roman Republic.”
It wasn’t what I wanted. But just because it didn’t happen today or this year or next year didn’t mean that it wouldn’t happen someday. That the opportunity wouldn’t present itself and I’d take that shot. “Then I give you my word—I agree to the truce.”
I looked out the enormous window behind his desk that faced Saint Peter’s Square. Stared at all the arches and the statues erected on top, one of the seven wonders of the world—in my humble opinion.
Rome was mine to serve and protect, but that responsibility felt hollow.
“I know it’s not what you wanted, Constantine. God doesn’t always give what you want—but what you need.”
I turned away from the window and looked at Pope Zephyrinus, who stood there with his hands together in his billowing robes, a perpetual warmth to his eyes despite the dark subject of our conversation. “The Skull King harms and murders innocents, and your response is to let him.”
“That is not my response,” he said. “But every war fought is paid in blood, and you don’t know whose blood that will be. Will it be yours? Will it be your family’s? Or will it be thousands of innocent people who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time? Wars can be won without guns. Victory can be earned through conversation and diplomacy.”
I rolled my eyes—at the fucking pope. “The Skull King strikes you as an expert in diplomacy? No offense, Father, but you’re out of your element with this.”
“Perhaps,” he said. “But he already took your brother. And if you provoke him, he’ll take everyone else. Are those consequences that you can accept?”
I turned back to the window again. I thought of my mother and my sister . . . of my aunts and uncles and cousins . . . and Isabella. It wouldn’t be hard for him to figure out what she’d meant to me at one point in time.
There was a quiet knock on the door, and then one of the staff poked their head inside. “Father, President Barsetti is here to speak with you.”
“Of course,” he said. “Show him in.”
A moment later, President Barsetti entered the pope’s chambers, in his dark-blue suit with a black tie, his shoes so shiny the sun seemed to reflect off the leather. He greeted Pope Zephyrinus with the type of handshake that remained firm. Then he slid his hands into his pockets and looked at me.
I stared back.
“I know you disagree with our decision, but in your heart, you know we’re right—”
“In my heart, I think you’re a fucking coward, Crow Barsetti.”
The pope remained idle, standing there and blending into the background.
President Barsetti gave no reaction. “I know more about this sort of thing than you realize, Constantine.”
“Really?” I challenged. “From your comfy armchair in your office? With your fancy political science degree from Oxford? Oh, I’m sure you’re the leading expert in kingpins . . .”
He continued to stare at me. “My family has been in Tuscany for several generations, and my roots are not steeped in the vineyards of my grandfather’s estate, but in the blood of the people who have been killed with his arms. My father was a hit man in his day, and a lot of my relatives built their wealth by illegal and sinister means. I know about the Skull King, and I know his predecessor and his predecessor before that. Some of them were good, ruled by a code of decency. But Darius, he’s the vilest man ever to sit upon the throne. My mother worries for me every single day.”
I hung on to his words because this was a chapter of his book I hadn’t read.
“I’m not a coward. But the Skull King is more powerful than the rulers who came before him. There’s never been a Skull King who has usurped power from the police and the military. And Darius’s reach is further and deeper. I could organize a hit on his headquarters since he doesn’t exactly hide his location, but he’s threatened the families of so many people that several people would leak the plan before I could even execute it. It’s happened before, and it’ll happen again.”
“I get it’s complicated, but letting him destroy Florence is not the answer.”
“And I think engaging him in a civil war is not the answer either, Constantine.”
The pope approached us. “It’s the words from our hearts that bind us, not divide us. Perhaps the right words could be said to Darius . . . and there would be civility.”
Not in a million fucking years.
Like the pope could hear the words in my head, he said, “Peace is always the answer, son—always.”
“If you don’t declare a truce with him, he’ll come for Rome,” President Barsetti said. “The Roman Empire fell once—and it could fall again. We both know he’s capable of taking more than Florence. He could kill me and put in a minion in my place, and then the republic would truly fall. You have to remember we’re fighting for more than this city, but the country, the people.”