Chapter 20 Aurelia
Aurelia
I worked on my edits at the dining table throughout the day, working through a wedding I shot last weekend and a couple other events.
It was one thing to get the shot, but it was another to make the photo as aesthetically appealing as possible.
To smooth out the complexions and blemishes of the subjects.
To change the tint of the photo, remove the red-eye that popped up.
I didn’t dramatically alter anything, but I did manipulate it quite a bit.
At the end of the day, people wanted to see the best version of themselves—not the real version.
After lunch, I made another cup of coffee and continued to work.
There were still lots of boxes around the apartment because I hadn’t fully unpacked.
Between work and Constantine, I hadn’t had that much time to finish the job.
And I’d much rather spend my time getting nailed by the sexiest man who ever lived than moving shit around my apartment.
A knock sounded on my door, and my first hope was that Constantine had come by for a visit. But he’d never done that before, stopped by unannounced, so I assumed it was a neighbor or maybe a delivery for something that I’d ordered.
I checked the peephole before I opened it—and spotted Enzo on the other side.
What in the actual fuck?
I opened the door and blinked a couple times, staring at a man who that now felt like a stranger. “Uh . . . what do you want?” I blurted, not thinking before speaking. I felt a little guilty for my rudeness, but it wasn’t like we were friends . . . or even ended on good terms.
“You got a minute? I wanted to talk to you.”
“If you can say everything in a minute, you should’ve just texted.”
“Okay, well, maybe it’ll take a couple minutes.
” He slid his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as he shifted his weight to one leg.
The shadow on his jawline was thick, like he hadn’t shaved in a while.
I used to find him really attractive, but now I felt nothing.
If I had a dick, nothing about him could get me hard.
“Um, okay . . .” I stepped aside and let him into the apartment.
The second the door was closed, I felt guilty. Guilty for being alone with my ex when I was seeing someone, I guess. I wasn’t sure if Constantine was my boyfriend or what, but we were definitely together. “Everything okay?”
Enzo took a long time to start the conversation, scanning my apartment as his hands remained in his pockets. “Nice place.”
I ignored what he said. “Everything okay?” I repeated.
“Yeah,” he said with a sigh as he reached into the back of his jeans, pulling out an envelope. “Found these under the bed the other day. I knew you’d want them, so . . .” He handed them over before he returned his hands to his pockets.
I opened the envelope and found old pictures of my mom.
Pictures from when she was young. One of her on a motorbike, one of her outside her secondary school.
Pictures of her before I was born. There was one of my father too, the two of them together.
“Thanks.” I returned them to the envelope and tossed it on the dining table next to my computer.
When I looked at him again, I expected him to be headed for the door already.
But he continued to stand there.
“Something else?” I asked, just wanting him out of my apartment. I wasn’t sure how Constantine would react to this because I didn’t know if he was a jealous guy or not, but the last thing I wanted was to risk what we had over this doofus.
“Yeah, um . . .” He rubbed the back of his head as he gave a sigh. “I just want to apologize for everything—”
“You already did, Enzo.” I didn’t need to hear it again. I could hear it a million times and would still feel nothing. “We’ve both moved on. It’s fine. I’m happy. You’re happy. It’s all good.” I’d say anything to ease his conscience if it just got him to leave.
“Are you happy?” he asked, dropping his hand to his side.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Are you seeing that guy who came by the apartment?”
It took me a second to realize what was happening.
“Are you serious right now?” My eyebrows furrowed before I issued a laugh.
“You’ve got a lot of balls to ask me that, especially since I asked you what was wrong, what, fifty times?
And you lied each and every time. But yet, you think you deserve the 411 on my life? ”
“Look, I didn’t mean to upset you—”
“Yes, I’m seeing him. He didn’t just move all my stuff because we’re friends.” Oh, we were definitely not friends.
He dropped his gaze before he gave a slow nod. “I wanted to explain what happened with Luna—”
“Why? I don’t care.”
“Well, I think it might have been a mistake. I mean, I don’t think, I know.” He looked at me, self-loathing in his gaze. “It started as a kiss at work, and then it just got carried away and—”
The front door flew open.
Constantine walked inside—a fucking menace.
His maniacal gaze was reserved for Enzo as he approached, leaving the front door wide open. He didn’t say a word, but his presence was utterly terrifying. The way he carried himself, the stiffness in his shoulders, the palpable anger that radiated off his body like hot rays from the summer sun.
Enzo took a step back . . . and then another.
I was so utterly shocked by all of it that I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t really describe the phenomenon, but when Constantine spoke, he didn’t yell . . . though his voice was loud. It carried, shook the walls, reached all of my neighbors down the hallway. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”
Oh Jesus.
I was tall, so every man I dated was also tall. Enzo was a little over six feet in height, but he looked tiny in front of Constantine. Not just in height, but in size and strength and masculinity. Completely dwarfed by Constantine’s potent presence.
“You don’t belong here, asshole. You forfeited the right to a minute of her time when you stuck your dick in someone else.” He continued to move forward, crowding Enzo, moving him back until there was nowhere else for him to go.
I wasn’t Constantine’s target, but even I was fucking scared.
“She’s mine now.” He slammed his fist hard into his chest and made a loud thump—like the muscle that covered his sternum was unbreakable. “Come near my woman again, and I’ll carve your eyes out of your fucking head and feed them to my dog.” Then he yelled. “You fucking understand me?”
His voice was so loud, it made me flinch and step back, moving toward the kitchen counter.
“Yes—yes.” Enzo raised both hands like he had a gun pointed at him. “Sorry . . . I’m sorry.”
Constantine stepped aside so Enzo could pass. “Go.”
Enzo made a step for the door but glanced at Constantine, like it was a trap.
I wasn’t sure if it was a trap or not.
So Enzo moved around the kitchen table, walked past me, and went all the way around to get to the door.
Constantine turned his head and watched him the entire time, a hawk observing its prey slither through the grass.
“Like a fucking table will save you, little punk-ass bitch.” Then he barked, barked like a fucking dog, and Enzo took off at a run.
He smacked his shoulder into the doorway and grimaced before he made his way around it and into the hallway.
The door was left wide open.
Constantine miraculously dropped his ire when he looked at me—as if he could just turn it on and off like nothing. “You all right?”
“Yeah. But I was fine before you burst in the door like that.” Like a fucking guard dog.
He seemed to understand that I was upset, read it on my face or heard it in my words. “I’m not sorry.”
“You acted like you were going to kill him.”
“Your point?”
“You said you don’t hurt innocent people.”
“Did I hurt him?” he challenged, taking a step closer to me. “Why are you defending him?”
“I’m not. But when you scared the shit out of him, you also scared it out of me.” I’d never witnessed Constantine act like that. He was all smiles and jokes and sexy, smoldering looks. He’d never . . . lost his mind.
“I would never hurt you.”
“I know that, but you were still fucking terrifying.”
“Well, I’m a terrifying guy.” He remained completely unapologetic.
“I’ve just never seen you like that. I’m a little shaken up.” I always believed him when he told me he was the Roman Emperor of the Roman Republic. But now, I really saw it, witnessed it with my own two eyes. I could imagine how lethal he was when his intention was to kill.
“It’s over now,” he said. “But I promise I would never come at you like that.”
“I’d probably start crying if you did.”
He smiled slightly. “You wouldn’t. But it doesn’t matter, because I don’t raise my voice to women. So, what did he want?”
“Um . . .” I crossed my arms over my chest, and I looked at the envelope he’d left. “He brought some pictures I’d left at the apartment. Some of my mom’s old stuff. I was glad he brought them back, because they’re important to me.”
“And that was it?”
I wanted to keep it from him so this conversation would end, but he said he was an honest guy, and if he would always be honest with me, then I would always be honest with him. “He apologized for everything—not that I needed to hear it.”
“And what else?” His tone hardened like he knew exactly what else.
“Said he made a mistake.”
His stare was stone cold.
“That’s when you came in. So he didn’t say anything else.”
“I didn’t feel bad before, but I sure as fuck don’t feel bad now. A fucking peasant coming to a queen like he deserves a moment of her time.” He shook his head. “Better not show his fucking face around here again.”
“Are—are you jealous?”
He laughed, but it was packed with sarcasm. “Sweetheart, I don’t get jealous. But I’m protective, and if some asshole who broke your heart thinks he can kick up some dust, he’s fucking mistaken. I was there to pick up the pieces that he broke—so he can fuck right off.”
“How did you even know he was here?” Had he just happened to stop by at the right time?