Chapter 15 Aurelia #2
I did my best to keep a straight face, to pretend I didn’t care because Enzo clearly didn’t even try to hide all the evidence. He obviously didn’t address the last text I’d sent him with all the fuck-off emojis either.
Enzo moved to one side of the living room, where all my boxes were grouped.
He’d packed everything for me, so who knew what he’d actually grabbed or how he’d organized it.
My entire life was compartmentalized and stacked in the corner, a discreet reminder that I’d ever existed.
It was how I felt to him now, just a thought in the corner of his mind.
Constantine walked to the boxes and got to work, putting the lightest ones aside for me to carry. He went for the boxes at the bottom of the pile, the ones that contained my books, shoes, and clothes.
It was an awkward situation, Constantine and me coming back and forth and grabbing boxes and putting them in the back of his Range Rover before returning to the apartment to grab more.
Enzo sat on the couch and waited. He didn’t offer to help.
At the end, it was only the heavy stuff that Constantine didn’t want me to carry, so I stood there awkwardly and waited for him to finish. Enzo stayed in the living room, and I stayed in the kitchen. We’d been close for years, but now we couldn’t even be in the same room together.
When Constantine grabbed the last box, we headed to the front door together.
“Aurelia.”
I stopped at the sound of Enzo’s voice.
Constantine continued into the hallway. “I’ll meet you downstairs, sweetheart.”
I kept my back to Enzo, feeling weak without Constantine present to give me strength.
But I slowly turned around and looked at the man I’d thought I would marry at some point.
“What’s up?” I folded my arms over my chest, did my best to pretend I didn’t give a damn, that my heart wasn’t racing like mad.
He held my gaze for a long time before he answered. “I’m sorry . . . about everything.”
It was the first apology I’d gotten. The first admission of wrongdoing.
I’d been waiting for that for months. I’d waited for it on the trip.
I’d waited for it when he packed up his things and left.
And now that I’d gotten it, I realized it didn’t make a difference.
It didn’t make me feel better. It just . . . didn’t matter. “Take care, Enzo.”
Constantine pulled up in the cobblestone alley next to the apartment building. He parked his vehicle in a place where he wasn’t supposed to park, but he did it anyway, like he could do whatever he damn well pleased.
He turned off the engine but didn’t move to unfasten his safety belt. “Doing all right?”
I hadn’t said a word after we left Enzo’s. Our final parting was just so . . . anticlimactic. “If you’d told me this was how it would end a year ago, I wouldn’t have believed it. It’s hard to picture, but we were happy. Really happy.”
“He’ll come to regret it. I promise you that.” He looked straight out the windshield, one arm propped on the armrest.
“I don’t care if he ever does.” He’d apologized to me, and I felt absolutely nothing.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he already does,” he said with a slight smirk.
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, it’s a lot more fun sneaking around and screwing in the back seat or in a dark alleyway than playing house,” he said with a chuckle. “Now, he’s got a live-in girlfriend and two kids that aren’t even his. Must be a shock.”
“Yeah, maybe.” Enzo’s shock couldn’t have been worse than mine when I’d walked in there and seen my presence completely erased by his new family.
“What’d he say to you?”
“Apologized.”
He gave a slow nod. “Yep, he knows he fucked up. Got caught up in the secrecy and lost sight of what mattered. He must be out of his mind to trade you for any woman.”
“That’s nice of you to say.”
He turned to look at me directly. “I mean it.”
And Enzo had said a lot of the same things when we’d started seeing each other . . . and look where we’d ended up.
“I’ve been thinking about you like crazy.”
How in the world did I land this guy? He was insanely hot, but his looks paled in comparison to his other features, like his warmth and his smile and how quick and smart he was. The way he cared for his family. His only vice was how he earned a living. “I’ve missed you too.”
He extended his hand over the center console, his arm long enough to reach my thigh, touching me like we were back in Taormina. The touch of his flesh was muffled by the denim I wore, but the pressure and weight of his hand both excited and calmed me.
“Thank you for helping me today.”
“I’ve always got your back.” He squeezed my thigh gently. “I don’t think there’s room for all this stuff in that apartment. Let me hold on to it for you until you move in.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that.”
“I’ve got a lot of space. It’s fine.”
“That’s nice of you, but it’s not your problem—”
“Think I’m going to go through your panties or something?” he teased, his smile forming. “I mean, I can’t promise that won’t happen . . .”
I chuckled quietly, the first time I’d somewhat laughed all day. “Well, thank you.”
He stared at me for several heartbeats, his eyes, dark like the underworld, so comforting. “Let me take you to dinner tonight.”
“I would, but . . .” I felt bad for rejecting him when he’d just done something nice for me. “I’m just not in that place right now.”
If he was disappointed, he hid it well. “Then how about lunch? I know a good spot nearby.”
“Now?”
“You aren’t hungry after moving all those boxes?”
“Well, you’re the one who carried all the heavy ones.”
He gave my thigh a pat, the way he had with my ass. “Like I’d let my woman do a damn thing.” He clicked the button to free his safety belt and started to hop out of the car. “Come on.”
“I really don’t think you can leave your car here.”
He grinned as he came around the car and opened my door. “Oh sweetheart, you’re cute.”
We went to Cambio, a restaurant that had great Roman pasta. I’d been there a couple times. Of course Constantine knew the guys here too, just like in Taormina. He made small talk near the bar before we were given a table in the back, away from everyone else.
Also just like in Taormina, he ordered a bottle of wine for the table and barely glanced at the menu, as if he already knew what he would order. “What are you thinking, sweetheart?”
I’d had no appetite at all when he’d asked me to lunch, but now that we’d changed our surroundings, the desire for food started to come back. “The cacio e pepe.”
“Excellent choice.”
“What about you?”
“I like their steak.”
The waiter came to the table, and the guys had a small conversation about tennis before Constantine ordered our lunch for both of us.
“So, you really know everyone, huh?” I teased.
“Yep,” he said with a nod. “Got eyes and ears everywhere.”
Whenever his profession was mentioned, I became more curious . . . and more wary. “How was your week?”
“Busy.”
“What did you do?”
“Work.”
“The entire time?”
“Yeah, that’s how it works.” He grabbed his glass and took a drink. “The job and I are the same entity.”
A job I still didn’t understand. “Could you . . . tell me more about it?”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he said.
“So, I’m sure you already know that President Barsetti is the head of state of Italy and oversees the laws that govern this country.
And I’m sure you also know that Pope Zephyrinus is the leader of the Catholic Church, the head of the Vatican.
So you have the president.” He raised one finger.
“And then you have the pope.” He raised a second finger.
“But there’s another ruler in Rome—and that’s the emperor. ”
I felt a shiver down my spine, straight from my neck to my ass. It was ice cold and terrifying.
“And that’s me.” He raised a third finger. “Emperor Constantine. Leader of the Roman Republic, ruler of Italy. We all have very different roles in this country and abide by our own rules.”
It was the first time in my life I’d been stunned into complete silence.
“Like it was for the emperors after Christ and the death of Julius Caesar, it’s my job to protect this country, not just from enemies outside our lands, but from those within.
To protect the civilians who call this place home.
Some have called my tactics ruthless and savage, but I take that as a compliment. ”
I did not expect to get into this at lunch. But I did ask . . .
“I police the criminals operating within this country, make them adhere to humanitarian practices that keep people like you out of harm’s way.
I make sure that whatever drugs hit the streets are not laced with fentanyl.
I won’t judge anyone who wants to take a hit, but I’ll make sure people aren’t dying needlessly because the dealer wanted to maximize his profits.
Trafficking has been outlawed under my rulership.
I won’t put up with that shit. Anyone working in a gang has to be at least twenty-one.
No kids. I do that sort of thing.” As if he’d said something insignificant, he took another drink of his wine.
I was still stunned. “How—how do you enforce all that?”
“With the men I employ under my rule. I have four barons who work with me, ones that I trust the most to enforce my laws. It’s a large network of people.
I also leverage resources from President Barsetti.
My job is to focus on the crime aspect of the city, to protect the country from terrorism, and President Barsetti is more concerned with nonviolent legal matters.
Like tax fraud and tax evasion, city and building codes, petty crimes, arson, stuff like that.
The really violent assholes are my responsibility.
And the pope . . . he brings me back to God when I stray too far. ”
“You know Pope Zephyrinus?”
He nodded. “I know him well.”