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)
And that was why the council conducted their meetings there, in the moonlight from the open arch in the ceiling, accompanied by Raphael’s coffin buried under the slate of glass. There were five chairs in the front, occupied by each aristocrat on the council.
The first was the president of Italy, Crow Barsetti. The second was General Farina, the head of the Italian military. The third was Chief Romano, the chief of the police force, the fourth was Dr. Conti, the leading archaeologist and historian of ancient Rome. And the fifth was none other than Pope Zephyrinus—my uncle.
“I’ve submitted my records and proof of my lineage through reputable ancient texts and genetic testing—as confirmed by Dr. Conti. Emperor Augustus had a daughter named Julia, and if the succession of power hadn’t been grossly misogynistic, she would have had the throne. I’m the last living descendant of the first emperor of ancient Rome—and therefore, the Roman Empire is mine. I will serve the people of this country, and I will protect them with my life. I will work with the president and the pope, and together, we will ensure the prosperity of the Roman Empire. Do you accept?”
After several seconds of silence, they all looked at one another, convening in my presence even though they’d already had their discussions in private.
“What do you seek?” General Farina asked.
“Everything I just said,” I said. “My time in Cosa Nostra and my other unsavory connections have made me a powerhouse in this country. I will police criminal enterprises by my own laws—and I will protect innocent people from their ways. Women and children will be safe. Innocent men will be safe. I would gladly give my life for this country. The crime has become rampant. There’s graffiti on every single building, even the damn obelisks. The Skull King has poisoned the rivers with his criminality and destroyed this beautiful countryside. I seek to restore it—to rebuild the empire.”
“But are your ambitions truly that altruistic?” Pope Zephyrinus asked.
My eyes shifted to my uncle.
“Because there can be no peace in war. With your newfound power, will you use it to destroy the Skull King—your blood nemesis? Or will you put the people and the empire first?”
The men stared at one another before they looked at me once more.
“You must remember, Constantine,” the pope continued, “that the blood of emperors may run in your veins—but so does the corruption. Rome had kings before the republic, and then they had the greediest leader of all—Julius Caesar. The emperors were a chance to turn over a new leaf, but like all men who seek power, they’re easily corrupted. Can you look us in the eye and prove you’re different?”
My uncle didn’t care about the same blood that ran through our veins, clearly. “The best way to protect Rome and the country is to eliminate the Skull King. He’s vile, evil, and a parasite to our society.”
“I believe the best way is through peace,” the pope said. “I believe you’re capable of restoring this city to its previous glory. I believe you will protect your people from the crime that has infected our veins. I believe your heart is good. But I also believe that your hatred for Darius has poisoned your good intentions.”
It’d been two years since my brother had been killed. Two years since I’d had to return to Taormina and give my mother news no mother should ever have to hear.
“I believe you won’t stop until vengeance is yours, Constantine.”
“I will not deny that his death is what my heart truly desires.” I wouldn’t lie for anything—not for a woman, and not for a position. “He deserves to die for what he’s done to Florence, but more importantly, for what he’s done to me.” It was easy to argue that my brother deserved what he got, but I would never feel that way. There was nothing he could ever do to make me turn my back on him. Alive or dead, he was still my brother, still my family—and I would not stop.
“An outright war with the Skull King would not only be expensive, but deadly,” President Barsetti said. “The police and military have done everything they can to rid the city of him, but he’s too strong and too well guarded. He has access to weapons and bombs and has everyone in his pocket . . . no way to know exactly who. A truce of peace is the only course of action.”
“Spoken like true cowards.”
“That is our condition, unanimously decided among the five of us,” President Barsetti said. “We’ll instate you as Emperor Constantine II of the Roman Republic—but only under a declaration of peace between you and the Skull King. Italy is no place to have a civil war.”
It fucking disgusted me. These last two years, I’d tried to find a way to destroy Darius. Cosa Nostra wouldn’t help me. None of his enemies in Florence was willing to openly oppose him. My only course of action was to seize the power of the emperor and use that to make my move—but even that had been taken from me.