Prologue IX Constantine
Prologue IX
Constantine
The plane landed in Catania, and the driver picked me up.
It was an hour’s drive from the airport to Taormina.
I’d been the emperor of the Roman Republic for two years now, and that time had flashed before my eyes.
I had to hire a crew to serve me, had to build the infrastructure, had to come in hard and fast so all the assholes knew I was a force to be reckoned with.
As a result, I hadn’t been home in two years.
I should have visited more, should have been there for my mom while she spent the last years grieving, but I’d been grieving too. And staying busy was the way I coped. My endgame was always the death of the Skull King, but I had to play it right.
I agreed to stay with my mom even though I would have preferred my own space, but I knew it meant a lot to her to have me there instead of at a hotel, so I let her have her way. The driver dropped me off outside my childhood home, and I carried my bag over my shoulder before I knocked on the door.
I heard a muffled scream from inside the house. She was probably working in the kitchen to make me all my favorite meals. I wouldn’t be surprised if she dropped whatever she was holding when she heard me at the door.
A minute later, she opened it and screamed. “My boy!” She launched into me and squeezed me hard, her face buried in my chest. For a petite woman, she had serious strength, and she literally squeezed the air out of my lungs.
“Ma, can’t breathe . . .”
She released me, then cupped my cheeks, looking up at me with the eyes of a puppy. “Oh, my son . . .” But then her eyes changed as she looked me over. She took a step back, examining me with a critical eye, looking at me from head to toe. “You’re—you’re so big.”
Nearly a hundred pounds of muscle bigger. I’d hired a nutritionist and a chef and hit the gym twice a day—no exceptions. Didn’t matter if it was my day off or if it was a holiday, I still hit the weights.
I looked forward to the day Darius and I crossed paths.
I came into the house and dropped my bag in the entryway. “Been working out.”
“And I was worried you wouldn’t be eating enough.”
“Nope, definitely been eating, Ma.”
“You’re so sexy. Big, sexy man.”
“Ma.”
She moved into me again and hugged me tightly. “Oh, I’m so happy my baby is home. You have no idea how much—” Her voice broke, and she started to cry, cry like she’d been holding it in for a long time. “How much I missed you.”
She put five platters of food in front of me. An entire pan of meat lasagna, arancini, a seafood platter with red shrimp, octopus, and fried calamari, an entire pizza, and then, of course, the cannoli.
No way in hell could I eat all this. “Everything looks good. Thanks, Ma.”
She sat across from me with her coffee, fully prepared to just sit there and watch me eat.
I purposely hadn’t eaten anything at all that day because I’d known this was coming. I served a little bit of everything onto my plate and started to eat.
“How are things in Rome?” she asked.
“Good. Busy.”
She didn’t ask for specifics, like she’d rather not know.
“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come. Isabella told me you RSVP’d, but I still wasn’t sure.”
Isabella was getting married tomorrow, and she’d invited me to come.
I wasn’t sure if she actually wanted me there or not.
It was complicated, a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t kind of situation.
My mother would have been pissed if I hadn’t been invited, but she also pitied me for being obligated to go.
“Wouldn’t miss it.” I took a few bites of the food, my mother’s home cooking that I missed often, but the subject made me lose my appetite.
My mom continued to study me, her sharp gaze piercing my flesh. “You okay, baby?”
I nodded. “Yeah, Ma.”
Her eyes continued to cut into me deep.
“If you ever really love someone, you always love them. So, I guess . . . it kinda hurts.” It’d been six years since we’d broken up. I’d been with a lot of other women, but no one who made me feel the way she did. No one who made me want to settle down. No one who made me . . . feel something.
I was close with my mom, but I didn’t share every thought and feeling that came into my heart.
But when I really felt lost and couldn’t find my way back, I turned to her.
“Sometimes I wonder if I made the right decision. Maybe I was too hard on her. Maybe I was too harsh. Maybe I should have given her another chance.” I would have been married for years, stayed in Taormina, and Edric wouldn’t have joined Cosa Nostra and would still be alive.
I’d probably have a couple of kids by now.
One shitty night had drastically changed our lives forever.
My mom released a quiet breath and brought her hands together. “You made the right decision, Constantine.”
My eyes looked at the platter of food that would take me days to eat. And of course, she’d make me take leftovers, even though that would be a nightmare on a plane. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
My eyes lifted to hers again.
“Because when you meet the one, you won’t have to wonder.
You’ll know with every fiber of your being that you can’t live without her.
You’ll know that you would burn down the entire world in her name just because she asked you to.
I love Isabella, but I know she’s not your person, Constantine.
You wouldn’t have lived without her these last six years if that were the case. ”