“People can be just as wild as animals,” Naomi said, her eyes hard on mine. “You are just as wild as him.” She nodded toward the cage. “He will kill you first, once he senses it.”
A surge of cold wind swept up, making the lining of her coat rustle in the wind. The same thing happened to the lion’s mane.
She watched me for another minute or two and then turned, leaving with the beast.
We followed her underneath the colosseum, where she entered with the lion and then went in a different direction. We moved toward areas with a bunch of different rooms that could have doubled as prison cells. The air felt colder, and the dominant scent was a dank smell that could only be described as fucking wild, like a mixture between manure and blood-soaked wood. A few workers were talking to one another, preparing for what was to come.
Donato sighed, watching them. “We have a right to know what is going on now. I will find out.”
He went to move, but Rocco put a hand on his arm to stop him. Ettore had slipped past a worker, coming straight toward us.
“Nephews,” he said, a slight grin coming to his face.
None of us returned it.
He looked straight at me, even though he addressed us a group. “You have no business in the bowels of this place,” he said in Italian. “Your seats are reserved above.”
“That’s not how this works,” I said. “I was challenged.”
“The challenge has been vetoed by the owner of this land. The last I checked, it was not Lothario the cowardly lion. He owns nothing, not even his balls.”
“Then why is the lion and his keeper here?” Donato said.
Ettore smiled. “For the game, of course.”
Ettore became lost in the crowd of men again, and I turned, finding Rocco staring at me. He nodded once, real subtle, and I nodded back. It wasn’t Lothario who had vetoed this ancient practice but his brother, our father. This was his land, and like Marzio, he had drawn a clear line.
No wonder Lothario wasn’t here. The game of his life had already fucking begun.
The group of us exited the underground world, and right outside of it, a man stopped me. He was one of Lothario’s. He handed me an envelope and walked away.
I opened the sealed paper, unfolded the letter, and then started to read.
Nephew,
The ludi was for your protection. As much as I feel you are a traitor for dealing with the enemy, Ettore, my own brother, I would have never seen you fall in such a way.
The game was always meant to be for one player. Giulio Cesare. If he made it to the gate, which I doubt he would have, then he had the right to challenge you to a match with metal gloves.
Reconsider my offer. This is the last time I will make it. Once your choice has been set in stone, there will be no going back.
Lothario
“This is for fucking show,” Rocco said, plucking the paper. He was reading over my shoulder, his eyes still moving back and forth, reading over the words again.
“Yeah.” I grinned. “He wants to make it known that he wasn’t going to kill me this time, but instead, was trying to protect me.”
“He is one lowbastardo,” Donato said. “He was using Cesare to get to you, and now he is killing him for it, to cover it up. The letter, and the way he set up thislodi, is serving as his proof.”
“To those who believe him,” Dario said, almost absentmindedly.
“And Cesare is not a blood relation,” Romeo said, his eyes narrowing on Lothario’s scribble. “For him to take Lothario’s side—”
“Means that he already had trouble on his mind, without Lothario putting it there in the first place,” I said. “They were of the same mind, but for different reasons.”
We’d found out that Marzio had Cesare placed with a couple before Luca went to jail. Cesare was a kid, but he was old enough to remember. The couple who had adopted him were older, and only the man was still living, but he couldn’t remember who he was, much less Cesare.
Tito said he needed time to think. He had placed kids with families before for Marzio, but not all of them. I smelled bullshit, but I didn’t press. Cesare’s history didn’t really matter. It usually came down to one thing anyway: vengeance. The Fausti Family had more enemies than friends.
