Page 29

A few days later, Felix arrived at his half-sister’s farming estate in central Italy. Fields of barley, millet, and other crops stretched over the rolling hills, with fruit trees planted in neat rows near the villa and outbuildings.

He dismounted from his horse and wiped sweat from his brow. Since moving to the coast, he always forgot how much hotter it felt inland, even on a relatively mild day. In Ostia, the cooling sea breeze was a constant presence.

He gave his horse to a stablehand, then entered the villa while another servant ran off to announce his presence.

His sister’s husband, Fulvius, received him a few moments later.

Fulvius, around Felix’s age, was easy-going and good-humored, and today he appeared to be practically buoyant as Felix congratulated him on his new daughter.

Fulvius showed him to the sunny garden at the back of the house where Herminia sat with the baby.

“Lucius!” Herminia looked as if she was about to jump to her feet before remembering the squirming baby in her arms. She had their mother’s delicate features and dark golden hair, paired with Maximus’s lively brown eyes. “Oh, I wasn’t sure you would come!”

She held out an arm to him, and he accepted the half-embrace, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead.

“It’s not every day one gains a niece,” he said.

“Congratulations.” He surveyed the infant.

“She looks very, er…” His brain flicked through several possible adjectives, trying to determine the most fitting compliment for a baby. “Healthy?”

“You should hear her cry.” Herminia smiled indulgently down at the baby. “The midwife said she had the strongest lungs she’d ever heard!”

“How…nice.”

“Do you want to hold her?” Herminia proffered the baby, which gazed at Felix with blue eyes that somehow managed to seem doubtful.

Felix had never held a baby before, and he had a feeling that if he did, she would soon demonstrate those healthy lungs. “Perhaps later.”

Herminia returned the baby to her shoulder. “I need to feed her soon. Mother and Father were just taking a stroll through the orchard. You should go find them. They’ll be so pleased to see you!”

“I’ll do that.” He nodded to her and the baby, then proceeded out the back of the garden toward the orchards.

He walked along the neat rows of plum and peach trees. The fruit was in season at this time of summer, but most of these trees appeared to have already been harvested. Felix managed to find one plum that hadn’t yet been plucked, and stretched his arm up into the branches to grab it.

He didn’t bite into it, but tossed it in his hand as he walked. Marcus was especially fond of plums—not that there seemed to be any food he disliked—so Felix would bring the fruit back to Ostia as a present for the boy, and an apology for being away so long.

He took a deep breath of the fresh country air. It was like a different world out here, a peaceful haven compared to bustling, crowded Ostia. But Ostia had an energy, a vibrancy that he couldn’t stay away from for long.

It also had Lucretia and Marcus. Somehow he already missed them both.

Ahead, he heard the sound of footsteps brushing over grass and the murmur of quiet conversation—his mother’s light voice mixed with his stepfather’s deeper tones.

A booming laugh broke out, scattering a flock of birds from a nearby tree. Yes, that was definitely his stepfather: loud and uncouth as always.

His parents came into view on the path ahead of him, their backs to him. His stepfather’s arm was wrapped around his mother’s waist, and she laid her head on his shoulder as they walked.

Felix cleared his throat. His mother, Volusia, stopped short and turned around. Her eyes widened when she saw him. “Oh, Lucius! You came!”

She crossed the short distance to him and enfolded him in a tight yet decorous hug.

“Why is everyone so surprised that I’m here?” he asked as he withdrew from the embrace.

“Because you might as well live in India for how often you visit!” Maximus, his stepfather, gave Felix a good-natured punch on the arm that sent Felix stumbling into the trunk of a peach tree.

“Ouch,” Felix muttered, rubbing his arm. “Well, I was actually planning an earlier visit. There was a business associate in this region whom I was going to meet. But plans changed.” In that I decided not to pursue my campaign against Lucretia by persuading her guardian to drop his support .

“Oh? Who was that?” Mother looped her arm through his as they ambled down the row of trees. “I wonder if we know him.”

“It was a man named Manilius Cotta.”

Mother frowned. “If I’m not mistaken, I believe that man is dead.”

Felix drew to an abrupt halt. “Dead? It must have been very recent.” Does Lucretia know? She must not.

Maximus shook his head. “At least five years ago. He left no heirs, so his estate was sold to another family.”

Felix couldn’t bring himself to move. Dead for five years? It was impossible. There must be some mistake.

“How did you arrange a meeting with this man, if he’s been dead for five years?” Mother asked.

“I—I was given his name by another.” Felix struggled to summon a facade of calmness. “Perhaps a miscommunication.” What did this mean? Several possible conclusions jumped into his brain, tangling themselves in a web of confused suspicion.

His mother was asking how long his journey had taken, so he forced himself to put the question of Lucretia’s guardian from his mind—for the moment.

Felix managed to keep up polite conversation as they meandered through the orchard back to the house. Upon reaching the villa, he retreated to the bedroom he’d been assigned under the excuse that he wished to wash and change clothes after his long journey.

In the quiet room, he paced, his mind spinning. Lucretia’s guardian was dead. Could Siro have given him the wrong name? It was possible, but Siro didn’t make mistakes like that. Felix had to assume the name was correct.

If Lucretia’s legal guardian had been dead for years, even before her husband’s death, there was no way she didn’t know of it.

Which meant she had arranged the situation exactly as she wanted.

When Cornelius had died, she must have decided to invent a guardian. She had no father, brothers, or uncles in Ostia or Rome. Manilius Cotta probably was her closest male relative before his death. And a distant relative who lived far from Ostia would suit her purposes very well.

In reality, the system of guardianship was not strictly tracked, so it was likely that no one had ever bothered to check. It was usually assumed that an independent woman could manage her affairs as she pleased, unless her guardian raised an explicit objection.

Which was exactly what Felix had been planning to convince Manilius Cotta to do.

But that was before their truce. So this new information, of course, didn’t matter to Felix.

He sat on the bed, dropping his head into his hands. A headache pulsed in his temples. The room was so quiet his ears rang.

This could be damning for Lucretia if anyone were to find out.

The rules around guardianship might not be closely monitored, but the fact that Lucretia had been brazen enough to invent a guardian would not go ignored.

Women were supposed to appreciate such regulations, which existed to safeguard their interests and ensure no one took advantage of them.

They were not supposed to flout the rules.

Lucretia’s business operations would be considered unlawful. All her assets would be seized. It would ruin her. And all it would take was a whisper in the right magistrate’s ear.

If Lucretia was removed, that would clear the way for Felix to attain unquestioned control over all shipping in Ostia, as he’d always intended.

You have a truce , he reminded himself. It was reprehensible to even consider betraying her, given their current arrangement.

He rose from the bed and resumed pacing, hoping the orderly movements would bring some logic to the chaos of his mind.

As far as he could tell, he had three options.

One, he could anonymously reveal her secret to the magistrates. She and Marcus would lose everything. But she might never find out it was Felix who had destroyed her.

That option seemed cowardly, and besides, Lucretia was too smart not to realize that her old rival had finally vanquished her. He would lose her, even if he gained everything else.

The second option was to tell her of his discovery. To convince her it was in her interest to transfer all her operations to his control, before anyone else should discover her secret. Perhaps they could come to an amicable agreement. Perhaps he would be able to keep her in the bargain.

You think she’ll consent to sleeping with you after you blackmail her? Idiot .

The third option was both the easiest and the hardest: do nothing. Say nothing, either to a magistrate or to Lucretia. Pretend none of this had ever happened. Go on with their highly enjoyable carnal explorations, and maintain their truce in Ostia.

Part of him—the ambitious, greedy, scheming part—was shocked he could even consider this option. Two months ago, he would have been gleefully running to the nearest magistrate to expose and ruin her.

But much had changed. His gaze lit on the plum he’d pilfered from the orchard for Marcus. Her son would despise him if Felix took any action against Lucretia. And Lucretia—

Nausea spiraled in his stomach as he contemplated betraying her.

Something about this situation felt different than any of the other efforts he’d undertaken against her.

With a jolt, he realized why: it wasn’t fair .

This dilemma wouldn’t exist for any other business rival—any male business rival.

But because the world had decided that women required legal guardians in order to run businesses or manage property, he now had a unique opportunity to demolish everything she’d worked for.

For some reason, his mind went back to his first meeting with Marcus, that three-on-one beating in the alley.

There was nothing wrong with schoolboys scuffling with one another, but Felix had intervened because it wasn’t a fair fight.

There was no possible way Marcus could win against three bigger, stronger boys.

Just like there was no possible way Lucretia could win against a society that believed she required guardianship.

He picked up the plum, its smooth skin cool against his hand. The decision settled into place in his mind.

Lucretia didn’t deserve to be beaten like this. If their truce ran its course and their rivalry renewed, he would eventually best her.

But he would do it in a fair fight.