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“There are. The white one was supposed to be here for your visit, but my trainers work with them individually, so they might’ve needed him on stage. But you have the videos I sent, and I’ll make sure you’re able to meet him.”
“It’s no matter. He’s the only white cub?”
“Yes, yes. They’re very rare, and you’ll have the only one in Emerald Beach. I’m keeping these two for parties in the VIP suites. I might as well get value out of them while I can. But the white cub is our first viable specimen from the breeding program. He will become Constantine Dio’s most favored pet. That is, if you still want him.”
The cage door swings open, and I hear one of the cubs squeak as Constantine picks him up. “I want him,” he says firmly.
The man out there is Constantine Dio. Claudia and Antony have mentioned his name in a hushed whisper – the third member of the Triumvirate, the head of the Dio crime family and the king of all assassins in Emerald Beach. The Augusts manage commerce. Nero provides entertainment. Constantine Dio deals in death.
And he’s going to make Casper his pet.
Over my dead body.
I regret the pledge as soon as it enters my mind. Constantine Dio’s just the man to take me literally.
Outside, the cub squeals again. Livvie looks at me, and it takes everything I have not to burst out of our hiding place and rip the animal away from them. Casper finishes his steak and sits back on his hind legs, licking his lips. He doesn’t deserve to be mixed up in this.
“Good.” Nero laughs again, even though he’s said nothing humorous. “I’ll deliver one beautifully-trained baby white tiger to you after Saturnalia. Call it a Christmas present. But I need you to side with me against the Augusts.”
“Ah, I wondered when we’d arrive at the Augusts.” Constantine sounds wary. “Cali hasn’t been able to locate Brutus.”
“I suspected as much. His soldiers keep putting me off as well, even though he has shipments for me arriving any day now. If your best assassin hasn’t found him, I think we can conclude somebody has finally put a bullet between the bastard’s eyes.”
Constantine chuckles. “Julian will be dancing in his grave.”
“Indeed. It’s good news. It saves us from doing it. He was becoming a liability. I put it to you that the killer deserves a handsome reward, perhaps a tiger cub or a deadly snake of their own, if only they weren’t too afraid to reveal themselves.”
“Careful, Nero.” From the way he snaps the words, Constantine reads something into Nero’s words I don’t yet understand. “Cali knows our rules. Brutus’ killer is untouchable.”
“Indeed, although I doubt they’ll risk going public with their triumph. Meanwhile, unless they can raise dear Julian from the dead, Brutus’ demise leaves us with the thorny matter of his succession.”
“They’ll put someone forward for Imperator. Probably Antony. He’s proven a strong leader. It’s without precedent, but I think none of us anticipated—”
“Yes, yes, Antony would make a strong leader, I agree,” Nero says. “Too strong. And too attached to Julian’s legacy. Now is the time for us to strike. The Triumvirate has served us well, but perhaps this city doesn’t need three rulers. The August family has devoured itself – an empire collapsed in ruin, leaving only the victors behind. Why should we stand in the way of progress?”
There’s hesitation in Constantine’s voice. “I don’t disagree, but the Triumvirate was designed to prevent any of us from gaining too much power. I must insist—”
“Are you implying I’ll take more than my fair share?” Nero chuckles. “Why, Constantine, I’m hurt.”
“Of course not. Simply that we will need to reach an agreement over his empire and assets.” There’s another squeal from the cub. “I have my eye on the weapons trade. But first, our case needs to be airtight. Antony’s hungry for power. He wants this. He’ll go down fighting.”
“I wouldn’t expect anything else. We can oppose on blood grounds. There may be retaliation, but nothing we can’t handle. We’ll have to get rid of Antony, of course, but if we do it now it’ll look suspicious. Best for us to bide our time, to pretend we know nothing about Brutus’ disappearance.” I can hear the smile in Nero’s voice. “The proceedings of our sacred council must remain secret.”
Claudia’s right.
Nero and Constantine are planning to kill Antony and take the August empire for themselves.
I hug Casper to my chest and bury my nose in his fur. I feel as though I’m trapped on a train with faulty brakes, hurtling down the rails into certain death without anything to hold onto.
Saturnalia will be a bloodbath unless we stop it.
Claudia
While the student council decorates Stonehurst’s hallways with glittering fairy lights and organizes Secret Santa deliveries, we make our plans for a darker pagan celebration.
As the ancient Romans once honored the god of harvest during Saturnalia, the three crime families celebrate the bounty of their illegal acts. Every year in mid-December, big parties are held across the city, usually in the bars and private clubs owned by Nero. The Imperators give gifts to their favorite soldiers and offerings are made to the gods to protect the families for another year. My father always hosted a Saturnalia feast at our home – my mother spent six months planning the menu and guest list and ensuring everything was just so. I wasn’t allowed to attend, but I often hid in one of the secret chambers in our home and listened to the festivities.
The festival always begins with the Council of the Triumvirate. The three leaders, their tribunes, and trusted bodyguards meet in a secret location to air grievances and hash out plans for the coming year.
