Page 19 of Thawed Gladiator: Lucius
“Raven!” Her voice is bright with excitement. “Please tell me you got the email.”
“You knew about this?” My steps halt beside the window overlooking the motel parking lot.
“I was hoping he’d reach out! I wasn’t sure if my conversation with Alexis Wang from Norris’s production company actually got through to him, but apparently—”
“Wait, stop.” My free hand rises to my temple where a headache is forming. “What conversation with Alexis? Megan, what did you do?”
Silence stretches across the line before she responds, her tone suddenly defensive. “I was networking! You know, that thing you’re supposed to do in this industry but never actually do because you’re too busy being all mysterious and gothic?”
“What exactly did you tell her?”
“Nothing specific.” Her voice rises slightly. “Just that my brilliant friend was working on something groundbreaking involving historical death rituals and had made contact with some very interesting people near that sanctuary everyone’s been talking about.”
My stomach drops. “You told her about the gladiators?”
“I didn’t say gladiators specifically. I just mentioned you’d connected with someone who had unique insights into ancient practices.” She pauses, then adds more quietly, “I thought I was helping, Raven. You’ve worked so hard for recognition, and when the opportunity came up to put your name in front of someone like Norris…”
I sink onto the edge of the bed, processing the implications. “Megan, these people value their privacy. They’re not content for us to exploit.”
“Since when do you turn down good opportunities?” There’s genuine confusion in her question. “This isDavid Norriswe’re talking about. Do you know how many creators would kill for this chance?”
“Since I met someone who’s been treated as entertainment his entire existence,” I snap, then immediately regret my tone. “Look, I understand why you did it. But these gladiators aren’t just fascinating historical figures. They’re people trying to rebuild their lives after an impossible situation.”
“Right, your gladiator friend,” Megan says, recognition dawning in her voice. “The one you’ve been so cagey about. Raven, do you realize what this connection means for your career?”
“It means I need to be very careful about how I proceed.” I stand again, moving to the window to watch the oak trees at the edge of the parking lot. “This opportunity… it’s everything I’ve worked toward. But not if it means betraying someone’s trust.”
“Trust?” Megan sounds genuinely puzzled. “Raven, this is your chance to go from hosting a small-time podcast to a major streaming platform. The gladiators are already public knowledge. It’s not like you’d be exposing some huge secret.”
She’s not wrong about that. The thawed gladiators’ existence has been documented, discussed, and analyzed by experts worldwide. But somehow, my connection with Lucius feelsdifferent—more personal than professional, despite how it began.
“I need to think about this,” I tell her finally. “And I need to discuss it with… my contact… before making any decisions.”
“Your contact?” Megan’s tone turns speculative. “This wouldn’t happen to be getting personal, would it?”
Heat rises in my cheeks despite being alone in the room. “It’s complicated.”
“Oh my god, itispersonal.” She laughs, though not unkindly. “Leave it to you to fall for a time-displaced Roman warrior while trying to advance your career.”
“I didn’t say I was falling for anyone,” I protest weakly.
“You didn’t have to. I can hear it in your voice.” Her tone softens. “Look, whatever’s happening between you and this gladiator, don’t let it derail the biggest opportunity of your professional life. There has to be a way to pursue both.”
After we hang up, I stare at Norris’s email on my laptop screen, re-reading it for the fourth time. Everything I’ve worked toward for years is right here—validation, platform, financial security, the chance to reach millions instead of thousands.
But the image that fills my mind isn’t of streaming success, career advancement, or dollar signs. It’s of pale eyes watching me with trust across a cemetery’s midnight shadows, of strong hands yanking me out of harm’s way in an abandoned mine,and of a man who’s spent his lifetime being valued for what he represents rather than who he is.
The choice shouldn’t be this complicated. Professional opportunity versus personal ethics. Career advancement versus protecting someone I’m beginning to care about more than I want to admit.
I close the laptop without responding to Norris’s email.
My laptop screen goes dark, but I can still see the numbers in my head; the ones that keep me awake at night. Fifty-three thousand in student loans. Mom’s medical bills from last year’s cancer treatment that insurance didn’t cover. The credit card debt I’ve been carrying since Dad’s construction business went under, and I helped with his mortgage payments.
The podcast barely covers my basic expenses, and my savings account hovers perpetually near zero. This Norris opportunity isn’t just career advancement—it’s financial salvation. The kind of money that could finally let me breathe, could help my family breathe. But not at Lucius’s expense.
Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Lucius. Together, we’ll figure out if there’s a way to navigate this opportunity without compromising the trust that’s been building between us.
Because for the first time in my adult life, something matters more than my career advancement.
