I wasn’t sure if that was me, judging by the way my heart pounded. “You said you would never hire a woman because it’s not a safe environment. So, how does that work with a partner?”
“Because everyone in the Roman Republic is there to serve the Republic—including me. We understand and accept the risks. But my partner is not under the same obligation. She’s not a part of it whatsoever.”
“But based on association—”
“She is my Roman Republic. My Roman Empire. And my first job, before everything else, is to serve and protect her.” We hadn’t even gotten our food yet, and we were already in the thick of it. “I would let Rome burn to the ground before I let anything happen to you, Aurelia.”
Everything was perfect between us, but the more we discussed it, the more I was uncertain what I wanted. Constantine was the ideal man, and I should be the one begging him to be with me. But I wasn’t stupid. I knew a life with Constantine would be different from one with someone else. Full of guns and danger and instability. And while my heart went wild for this man, my mind continued to question it all.
When he spoke again, his tone was quiet. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”
“That I’m crazy about you but not crazy about this.” I blurted it out because I couldn’t contain it in my chest for another second. I should be more calculated in my responses, but all of this made me so uneasy that I couldn’t.
“I promise nothing would happen to you.”
“You can’t make a promise like that, Constantine.”
He suddenly looked provoked, as if I’d said the wrong thing. “Yes, I can.”
“You said you don’t like to lie, and if that’s true, then there’s no way you can say that—”
“Yes, I fucking can.”
One step forward. Twenty-five steps back. Over and over. Our relationship worked in Taormina because it was just a summer fling. Maybe we needed to go back to that. Accept that was the only thing that would work between us.
“A lot of people don’t like me. A lot of people want me dead. Me—not you.”
“And I’m the perfect target to hit you where it hurts.”
“You know how pirates have a code among thieves? We also have a code among criminals. We don’t fuck with people’s families. Period.”
“And you trust that every asshole out there is going to stick to the code?” I asked incredulously.
“I believe most would, yes. But I would never let you be in danger, regardless. Would never let you be accessible to the wrong people. If you were mine the way I want you to be, you’d be guarded better than the fucking pope.”
I didn’t want to be guarded like the fucking pope. “Has anything ever happened to your family? Your brother ... is that why he died—”
“No.And I don’t want to talk about him.”
“I’m not asking you to.” I had no idea what could make him so distant like this. He was never evasive or closed off. An open book. So whatever happened with his brother, whose name I didn’t even know, was serious. “But has anyone ever come for your family—”
“No. My dad died because he drank too much wine and ate too many cold cuts.”
“How long have you been doing this?”
He started to calm down as we steered away from the topic of his brother. “I’ve been the emperor for five years. The four years before that were spent with Cosa Nostra and their partners in Florence.”
So in the five years he’d been doing this, no one had ever tried to hurt his family. “You don’t have anyone there to protect them in case?”
“Cosa Nostra look after them on my behalf.”
“So that’s where you were that night you left.” I’d stayed in the room while he’d left late in the night, not coming back until an hour before morning.
“Yes.”
“Do you pay them?”
“No. We built a close relationship through my years of service. And I’ve also pardoned them from the jurisdiction of the Roman Republic—and as a thank-you, they protect my family.”
