Chapter 1 Constantine
Constantine
I walked into the Temple, and my boots hit the sand. The heater below warmed the sand just like it was in ancient times, from the forges below and the sun beating down from the sky, making it even harder for the gladiators to handle the heat—especially barefoot.
“Drop him.” I turned to the men behind me—the ones who carried Timothée’s unconscious body.
They dropped him on his back in the sand.
“Thanks, boys.” I could have carried the kid myself, but as the emperor, I didn’t carry anyone. Well, except my woman when she needed a ride from the couch to the bed or a ride from the bed to my lap.
Timothée began to stir, probably because the heat had started to warm his clothes.
Rocco called from the stands, “Let’s have him fight a lion.”
“We don’t have lions,” I replied.
“Yeah, but that’d be fun.”
I chuckled quietly. “Not for the lion.”
“I think it’s something we should do. Make it like the real Colosseum. The guys would love to watch.”
“I’m not doing that to a lion.”
“Come on, the lion would win.”
“And in the meantime?” I asked. “He’s just sitting in a cage. Come on, fuck that.”
“Didn’t realize you were such an animal lover.”
“I’m just an asshole.” I turned back to Timothée.
He blinked a couple of times as he looked up at me, still not understanding the predicament he was in.
“Rise and shine, asshole.” I kicked him hard in the leg.
He gave a strained moan, his throat still not working properly after being knocked out cold.
But the sudden sense of pain made him alert, and after he hugged his knee to his chest, he crawled backward across the sand to get away from me.
The panic really set in when he looked around and realized where he was. “What the fuck?”
“Remember me?” I winked at him.
He finally got to his feet to run away, but when he looked and saw all the armed guards with machine guns, he changed his mind.
I whistled to get his attention.
He whipped back to me, out of breath from the panic rather than the exertion.
“Listen up.” I pulled out the dagger identical to the ones used in ancient times, where the handle weighed just as much as the blade, making it a remarkable weapon for the slaves who weren’t meant to win.
“You were paid to profile victims for Vladimir, and as Emperor Constantine of the Roman Republic, I sentence you to fight in the Temple. If you survive, you walk out of here as a free man.” I held out the blade to him.
He glanced at the dagger, then at me, like he couldn’t believe this. “You’re fucking crazy.”
“You didn’t realize that when I broke down your front door and put my boot against your head?” I smirked before I spun the blade in the air and caught it by the hilt. Then I threw it down hard into the sand—the hilt up by his feet. “Good luck.” I walked off to the stands where Rocco was seated.
I could tell that Timothée had picked up the knife and started to rush me from behind. I knew it even before Rocco made a gesture with his hand for me to spin around.
I ducked before he could strike me, the blade and his arm flying by.
I righted myself again, then kicked him in the back so he hit the sand. Then I stepped over him and slammed my boot so hard into his knee that the socket popped.
“Ahhhhhh!”
“I think you just hurt your chances.” I continued my walk to the stands, then up the stairs to join Rocco. I whistled for the show to get started, the doors rising and the armed guards coming out to cut Timothée into pieces.
He continued to hug his knee and shriek in pain as he looked at the two men coming right for him.
Rocco turned to me. “Get anything out of him?”
“Nah,” I said. “He was paid in cash, stashed in electrical boxes behind buildings. And the number he would call has been deactivated. So Vladimir connected Aurelia to Timothée and got ahead of it.”
“Damn.”
“But hey, it’s still fun.” I put my feet up on the chair in front of me and watched Timothée try to get away from the guard carrying a full sword, about to hack him to pieces. “So, at this point, I think we need to call Luca. He owes me anyway.”
“For what?”
I shook my head from side to side. “Eh, long story—”
Timothée screamed when he was stabbed with the sword right in his chest cavity.
“Well, that didn’t last long,” Rocco said.
“Eh. Could have given him a gun, and it’d still be over.”
Rocco chuckled. “So what’s the status with you and Aurelia?”
I gave a shrug. “It’s water under the bridge now.”
“Good.”
“I don’t know what it is about her, but I just can’t stay mad. She’s got these beautiful green eyes, man. They get me every time.”
He released a loud laugh. “I don’t think it’s her eyes, man.”
I laughed too, knowing he had me dead to rights.
But I wasn’t going to tell him about her killer pussy.
“I thought about it, and if the situations were reversed, if she barged into my place because she knew Isabella was there and threatened her and barked at her and all that . . . I don’t think I’d stick around. ”
He gave a nod. “Yep.”
“So yeah, I fucked up.”
“You did.”
“I just admitted it. You don’t gotta keep repeating it.”
“Just want that message to sink in so you don’t fuck it up again.”
“Why do you care if I fuck it up or not?”
“Because.”
“Because why?” I nudged him in the side.
“Because she makes you happy.” He nudged me back.
A smirk moved on to my lips. “Aww, that’s kinda sweet.”
“Shut up,” he said. “Don’t make it weird.”
“Maybe I like weird.”
“Okay, let’s change the subject before it gets any weirder. When am I going to meet her officially?”
“I don’t know. You want to meet her?”
“She’s your woman, isn’t she?”
“Damn right she is.” She was all mine, not one foot halfway out the door. And it was fucking glorious. No bullshit. No second-guessing.
“Then yeah, I should meet her.”
“All right, I’ll set it up. But try not to stare, all right?”
He turned to look at me hard, one eyebrow raised.
“Because she is fiiiiiine.”
“I’ve already seen her.”
“Yeah, but that was chaos. Not her natural environment. So you can look a little bit.” I brought my forefinger and thumb together, the tips almost touching. “But that’s it. Just a glance.”
He gave a quiet chuckle. “Thank you for your generosity.”
I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I’d show you a picture but, you know, none are exactly PG . . .” I’d taken pictures and videos of her sleeping, going down on me, a picture of her ass when she rode me reverse cowgirl. All just for me. I found Luca’s name in my contacts and called.
It rang a couple times before he answered. “Luca.”
“Constantine.”
There was a pause before he spoke. “It’s been a while. Need something?”
“Yes, in fact, I do. I’ve got a guy down here who keeps evading my net. Thought you might be of some help.”
“Not sure why.”
“Because it seems all his cronies are French.”
“Ah, I see. What’s he dealing?”
“Illegal transplants. Organs on the black market. Shit like that. Targets young people, and they just disappear. Every time I get close, he changes the tactics of his operation. None of his men roll on him because he doesn’t let them know anything.”
“Then he must pay them a lot not to ask questions.”
“Yeah, probably,” I said. “All I have is a name. Vladimir.”
“Last name?”
“Nope.”
Luca was quiet for a while. “I’m sure you heard about the commotion we had up here?”
“You’d have to live in North Korea not to know about it.”
“Well, Bastien is out. I’m the First French Emperor now.”
“Congratulations.”
Luca paused over the line like he wasn’t sure if I was being genuine. “Give me some time to figure it out.”
“Great. Thanks.”
“Yeah.” He hung up.