His Mafia Prince
Chapter 265: Not This Again!

Chapter 265: Not This Again!

(SASHA)

Tyler’s favorite restaurant in Rome is a hole-in-the-wall place in a side street a little ways from the touristy areas near the Forum. The only main course on offer at the restaurant is filleti di baccalà, although there are a few other appetizers on the menu, along with several side salads or cooked greens.

At first I’m taken aback; I expected fine dining, despite Tyler insisting that my jeans and black shirt were fine for where we were going. As for him, he’s in jeans as well, but wearing a white tee so thin that I can see the pink of his nipples underneath. Against his glowing tan and dark hair, it makes a tempting combination. And we do fit in perfectly with the crowd around the restaurant, all casually dressed.

The meal, when it comes, is maybe the best fried fish I’ve ever eaten. The sides of thick-cut fries and sautéed chicory are perfect accompaniments. The restaurant is tiny, Tyler and I bumping knees under the table as we eat, but somehow all the more private for it although the room is stuffed full of people. The chatter and the sizzle of frying fish cover our conversation perfectly.

Afterward, there’s a gelato bar down the end of the street, where we each take our picks and then end up swapping when I prefer Tyler ’s salted caramel and he prefers my pistachio. The gelato tastes both sweeter and fresher than any I’ve had before, although I’m pretty sure it’s the environment, the atmosphere, the fact that I have Tyler close to me, smiling up at me, making me fall a little deeper in love every moment.

"What next?"

"Well, later on we’re gonna dance at this awesome gay club I found online," he says, taking my hand. "Thought we should check out the Roman nightlife while we were here."

"Keeping an eye on the international competition? I’m in. But it’s a little too early for a nightclub, and after all that food—"

"Oh, it’s a long walk to get there," he tells me. "Correction: it’s a long, moonlit, romantic walk through the ancient parts of Rome to get there. We go this way first—"

He must have memorized the directions, because we’re carrying dumb rather than smartphones with us, only capable of calls and texts, and no map. Harder to trace.

"You picturing me walking these streets with some Italian hottie other than you? No, honey. Only for you would I ever walk through a bunch of old rocks and ruins."

He takes me to the ancient Roman Forum, where the people gathered, their senators spoke, and their Emperor paraded. Tyler might claim to have no interest, but he’s a surprisingly informative tour guide as he takes me to what he claims is the best overlook of the Forum. It’s a beautiful view when we get there, with fewer tourists this time of night. The heavy moon swells in the sky overhead, not full, but getting there, and as the clouds part, its cool light paints the Forum in silvers, grays and blacks. The ancient lines of the buildings show up in stark relief. The night air is cool, and I pull Tyler close to my side and kiss his temple. He snuggles up to me and we stand there in silence, looking at the remnants of a once-great empire.

I think of my own empire; my own Rome waiting for me across land and sea, and I make a vow not to let it fall apart under my watch. Under the chilling light of the moon, I feel as though something—someone—some ancient pagan deity, perhaps—has heard my vow.

And they will keep me to it.

"Dancing next?" I ask Tyler after we’ve strolled down into and through the Forum for another hour. It’s late enough that we’re mostly alone, apart from small groups of college-aged students, and even they disperse as we wander down the Via Sacra, past the old temples, and then past the Arch of Titus. I can see the Colosseum, too, right down the end.

"Mm, not quite yet," Tyler says, but he’s leading me more firmly towards the Colosseum, so I have no complaints. "You really wanted to see inside it," he sighs, as we arrive at the monument.

"It’s just a pile of old rocks," I remind him. "Really boring inside."

"Yeah," he agrees, and then: "So I hope you won’t be too disappointed by this private night tour I booked."

He takes my hand, pulling me over to where a small group is waiting around a tour guide, who is taking names and signing them in on a tablet.

"How?" I ask, bewildered. "And when?"

"I snuck down to ask the concierge at the hotel," Tyler says, and of course he did. It would never occur to me to do that, but to Tyler , so used to hotel living in his younger years, it would have been the obvious thing to do.

"Baby bird..." My throat hitches, and I have to clear it. "Thank you."

"You think I’m going to let you come to Rome and not see everything you want to see?" he asks, proud of himself, excitement giving him a bounce in his step. "No way. Only the best for my husband. And this is the best way to see it—fewer grubby tourist-types, and we can have our privacy if we want it." The look he gives me is flirty and sexy.

"I am not fucking you in the Colosseum," I tell him in a low voice, but he just laughs.

And maybe I would. Maybe I’d chance a night in a Roman jail to be able to experience that. So we join the group of six, where Tyler gives our false names, and then we follow the guide into the Colosseum.

"You’ve been so well behaved," I murmur to Tyler an hour later, once we’ve been released by the tour guide to have a look around the Colosseum for ourselves. The others in the group have been told strictly to stay in the lighted areas and within the signposted areas, but I saw Tyler slip the guide a substantial amount of cash and give him a wink.

"Come on, baby," he said to me. "You and me, we go where we please."

So that’s how we managed to find a place well away from all the other tourists, more dimly lit, a place where we can sit where ancient spectators once sat, and take in the wonders of the Colosseum.

"Well-behaved?" Tyler says, walking his fingers over my thigh and dipping his hand between my legs. "Does that mean I can misbehave for a little while now?"

I take his hand in both of mine, kiss the back of it, and hold it in my lap. "Even for us, this is probably too public," I tell him. "Besides, we still have the club to get to, right?"

"You’re right; the bathroom of a Roman nightclub is a much more romantic place to get our freak on," he says with mocking sincerity.

I shake my head with a smile. "You really outdid yourself tonight, baby bird. You know that?"

"Hell yeah, I know it," he says confidently, looking back over the Colosseum and squeezing my fingers. "I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far."

"I have. So much." I lean into him. "Thank you."

The moonlight has leached his eyes of their color, but they still shine with love when he smiles at me. "I’m glad."

We share a sweet, lingering kiss, and then Tyler pulls back. "I’m gonna give you some time alone for a minute," he declares, hopping up off the stone bench.

"I don’t want time alone. I want to experience all of this with you."

"Sure, but I need to give the tour guide the second half of the huge tip I promised for letting us go off alone. And by tip, I mean bribe. I’ll just be a minute. And then maybe I’ll stand in that broken-up bottom part for a minute and pretend I’ve been thrown into a cell with four really sexy gladiators, while my Emperor watches them take me, all at the same time. Gladiator gangbang. Actually, I think I’ve seen that movie."

"Your Emperor would never let anyone else have you."

"Yeah, yeah. But it’s hot to fantasize about, right?"

"Any man who touched you would lose his hand," I tell him firmly, but Tyler ’s laughter carries behind him on the warm, gentle breeze that blows through the Colosseum.

I do appreciate the moment alone, and appreciate again the way Tyler knows me better than I know myself sometimes. I sit in silence, letting the sound of the traffic outside die away, the giggles and chatter from our fellow tourists below, until all I hear is the whisper of the past in my ears. I let go of my cares, just for a moment, and feel the power of this ancient place. Remember the blood spilled.

I think about how lucky I am to have found Tyler , so perfect for me, who opened up new worlds for me. I can hear him somewhere in the Colosseum, his voice though not his words, and then I catch a glimpse of him waving at me from the other side.

"I took a wrong turn coming back," he shouts.

I chuckle, raise my hands to my mouth to shout back, but with a noisy ka- chunk-a-chunk, all the lights go out.

I spring to my feet, tensed for action, my eyes burning into the sudden dark. The clouds have shrouded the moon, and I have to strain to see anything in the black bowels of the Colosseum. "Tyler !" I shout.

"I’m okay," his response comes.

There aren’t that many people here, but I can hear them all chattering, the faux-scared screams of some of the girls, the laughter, the reassurances of the tour guide.

"Move down towards the base!" I shout towards where I saw Tyler last. My eyes are adjusting, and the occasional moonlight flashes through the clouds and ambient light from the city are bright enough that I can pick my way down from the higher stands. I keep my hand on any available guide rails as much as possible. My heart rate is elevated, and part of me wants to move faster, but I try to stay calm, think fast, move carefully. The last thing I need right now is to stumble or fall.

This stupid, broken body...

"Say something!" I shout. "Baby bird—"

I hear Tyler cheerfully bellow out a dirty limerick that I’m not sure is advisable in public, but at least I know he’s safe. As long as he’s talking, he’s still okay.

Maybe there’s just been a power failure. Maybe the tour guide lost track of time and we were all supposed to have left the monument by now. But those are a child’s fantasies that a man like me can’t allow himself. I have to treat every incident like it might be leading up to an attack on Tyler .

"Tyler !" I shout again.

"I’m with the group!" he hollers back, and that affords some measure of relief. At least in a group, he won’t be so easy to grab.

I’m near the bottom of the Colosseum when it occurs to me that if this is the precursor to another kidnap attempt, it suggests there are at least two Irish agents around. One to turn off the lights—because they wouldn’t trust to a bribe for something so important—and at least one more to nab Tyler .

But if they’re smart, they’ll have a whole battalion with them, because they’d need one to stop me from getting to my husband.

I’m so focused on Tyler , and on making my way under the deceptive light of the moon, that I only hear someone behind me seconds before they strike. I whirl around, but it’s too late.

There’s a tearing sting in my arm as a needle stabs in; I stumble back against a wall; everything goes dark.

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