Page 1 of His Stolen Princess

Apollonia

I never wanted to come back here, never wanted to see any of these faces. Old friends and enemies—sometimes one-in-the-same. But I had to come. One last time. It’s hard enough as it is, but then I see him. The reason I’m here, the man who took my brother away from me. He may be the most powerful man in Italy, but right now, I don’t care. Right now, I want him to hurt the way I do.

Cato

She comes to a funeral with pain and beauty. Lashing out, she aims for me. I take her fury, her sorrow, and finally, her. I can’t let her walk out of my life, not when I’ve found her again. The last time I saw her, she was a child and I wasn’t much more than one. This time, though, this time, I won’t let our bond break. I’ll do everything I can to convince her that her life is here with me, not on the run from a past she can’t escape. But I soon discover I’m not the only one with my sights on her, and old enemies never truly die.

Apollonia

The rain falls. It’s so fitting. I’d like to think the world mourns with me. That for a moment everything and everyone stops, and we understand the pain. I reach up and wipe a tear from my cheek.

Why am I here? Have I really traveled thousands of miles to say goodbye? To a man who said goodbye to me long ago? A sob leaves me. I cover my mouth to silence it. I push down the hurt that I don’t fully understand, not wanting to draw attention to myself. Well, anymore than me showing up here already has.

The church continues to fill up inside behind me as I sit on the cold stone stairs and I find myself unable to take the last few steps to say my final goodbye.

Run, my mind screams. I’m good at it. I ran from here many years ago, vowing to never return. Now I’ve run right back. I’ve gone days without sleeping or eating to get here, hoping that if I got here sooner, maybe the outcome would change. But there was no saving him. He was already gone. I reach into my small purse and pull out a pack of cigarettes, then shake one loose.

It’s not long before I notice a pair of shiny black shoes beside me. I don’t bother to look up.

“Anyone ever tell you smoking is bad for your health?” the deep voice asks.

“Did anyone ever tell you to mind your own business?” My words surprise me. I guess grief can make you bitter.

The man with the deep voice ignores me and proceeds to sit down next to me. I still don’t look at him, but I can tell he’s a large man.

“You need a light?”

I laugh. I guess I do. I hadn't thought that far ahead when I’d grabbed the cigarettes off my roommate's nightstand. I don’t even smoke, but times like these make you do all sorts of things you wouldn’t normally do.

“Please.”

He takes the cigarette from my hand. I finally look over at him. My eyes go to his mouth as he puts the cigarette to his lips and lights it. He takes a long draw, savoring it before handing it back to me. He blows the smoke out. He almost makes it look sexy.

“Thanks.” I take it with trembling fingers. I stare into the darkest eyes I’ve ever seen. They would be almost scary, but when he gives me a sad smile it drives the fear away.

I drop my gaze and lift the cigarette to my mouth. I take my first drag and immediately start coughing. So much for not drawing any attention to myself.

“It’s all yours.” I hand him back the cigarette and stand, then run my hands down my wrinkled dress. I should have ironed it or something, but I couldn’t find the will to care. I bet someone ironed Carter’s suit before they put it on him. I close my eyes. The sadness threatens to overwhelm me. I take a deep breath to try to get myself together.

My mind flashes back to being a small girl. I’m putting on Carter’s tie for him. He looks uninterested even though it’s the day of his graduation. He keeps joking that he’s not going to walk. But I continue to fasten his tie. I’m twelve years old and so proud of him. The memory almost brings me to my knees. I push it back, knowing I need to get through this. Memories only hold me back.

There were so many other choices he could’ve made, but he hadn’t. So now here we are. I really am alone in this world. I haven't seen my brother in years, but I always knew he was out there. That he was only a call away.

“Selfish,” I mutter as I walk up the stairs. Yet, that thought doesn’t make the pain any less. People lingering in the aisle part for me, stepping back. I keep moving forward, each step heavier than the one before.

I drop my head when I see the white coffin at the end. Tears fall, but I smile. Of course he has a white coffin. I would have demanded black. Something not too flashy, but that wasn’t Carter.

I lift my chin and keep walking, trying to hold my head high. Hushed whispers surround me. I have no idea who these people are. I never understood the life my brother chose to live. He’d seen our father do it, and now they’ve both met the same fate. The only difference was our dad took our mom with him. I wouldn't let Carter take me with him. I’d made it out of that lifestyle. It hadn’t been easy, but I’d done it.

I stop when I get to him, his body so still, his face so pale. I reach out and place my hand on his suit. “Even dead you look handsome, but you knew you would. Didn’t you?” I can’t remember a time when girls weren’t falling all over him. “I hate you,” I whisper. A tear falls and hits his motionless cheek. “But I’ll always love you. Tell Mommy I miss her.” I place my hand on his, needing to touch him one last time as I say my final goodbye. But his skin is cold and hard. I put my hand to my mouth to muffle the sob.

I step back quickly and run into someone. They grab me to keep me from falling. “Sorry.” I turn to see the man from outside standing there. I steady myself, and he drops his hands and gives me space. Everyone in the church is sitting now except the three men standing a few feet behind the dark-eyed man from the steps.

“Apollonia.” He’s not asking if it’s my name. He knows it.

I give a weak smile and try to step around him. There’s nothing to say to anyone here. These people might have been my brother's friends, but they mean nothing to me. They may be who he called his family, but they aren’t mine. They are a part of this world and contributed to his death. I have nothing to say to any of them. They should be in the casket with him. “Your brother—”

“Is dead.”

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