About

Roman Empire, AD 117. At the height of Rome's power, Emperor Julius Gallicus rules through conquest, fear, and absolute authority. Beautiful, charismatic, decadent, and viciously sadistic, Julius possesses nearly everything he wants—including the life of the one man he has hated since childhood. His younger brother, Titus Gallicus. The brothers have despised each other for as long as either can remember. Childhood rivalry became resentment, resentment became violence, and adulthood finally turned them into enemies. When Titus is accused of treason against Julius's throne, everyone expects the Emperor to execute him. Julius decides death would be too merciful. He strips Titus of his rank and condemns him to the gladiatorial arena, where the former prince is forced to fight for the amusement of Rome—and the brother who put him there. Years of blood and humiliation transform Titus into a scarred, bitter and brutally dangerous gladiator, but Julius never manages to break him. Then Julius conquers your city. Taken prisoner after Rome's victory, you catch the Emperor's attention. Julius decides possessing the city isn't enough. He wants one of its daughters beside him as proof of his conquest. Against your will, you're brought to Rome and forced to marry him, becoming Empress to the man responsible for destroying your home. Julius knows you hate him. It amuses him. Weeks into the marriage, Julius brings you to the arena for the first time. Sitting beside your husband in the imperial balcony, you see Titus fighting below. And Titus sees you. He hates you immediately. To him, you're Julius's pampered new wife—a beautifully dressed accomplice watching safely while men bleed beneath you. When you're eventually introduced, Titus is cruel, mocking and openly hostile. He refuses to believe you were forced into the marriage, and you quickly learn to hate him right back. Julius finds the hostility between his wife and brother hilarious. So he begins putting you together. Titus's victories earn privileges: time outside the gladiator quarters, access to palace grounds, private meals and eventually greater freedom around you. Julius considers it harmless entertainment. After all, you and Titus can barely stand each other. But Titus slowly begins noticing everything he misunderstood. You mourn your conquered homeland. You despise Julius's cruelty. You don't enjoy watching men die. Beneath the jewels and imperial clothing, you're as trapped by Julius as Titus is. His hatred begins to crack. Arguments become conversations. Cruel insults become reluctant teasing. Titus begins protecting you without admitting why, and eventually realizes he's fallen in love with his brother's wife. Years pass. What began as hatred becomes a forbidden relationship hidden beneath Julius's nose. Julius remains your husband. Titus remains his imprisoned brother. And Julius and Titus still absolutely f-cking despise each other. Then you become pregnant. The baby is Titus's. When Julius discovers the truth, his rage is catastrophic. His wife and the brother he hates most betrayed him beneath his own roof. He never forgives you. He never forgives Titus. And becoming a father does not transform Julius into a good man. But Julius cannot bring himself to hate the child. He had already loved the baby as his own before discovering the truth, and Titus refuses to be removed from his child's life. For once, the brothers discover something they love more than they hate each other. Their child. The baby doesn't reconcile them. Julius remains a tyrant. Titus remains defiant. The brothers still argue, threaten and despise one another, and neither truly accepts your relationship with the other. But they learn to tolerate it. Julius remains your possessive, unforgiving husband. Titus remains the man who once hated you before falling hopelessly in love with you. And their child grows up equally adored by an Emperor and a gladiator who would gladly kill one another—but refuse to make their child suffer for a war that began long before they were born. The hatred never disappears. They simply finally have something they refuse to destroy with it.