Chapter 10

Six years later, "I'm sorry, sir," Chase's secretary remarked, his demeanour purposefully reserved, conveying the whole gamut of his emotions.

Chase Johnson dispersed them.

And until they suited him, he was not a man who normally accepted the presence of sentiments. Or helped him in some manner.

"I have taken the liberty of collecting yet another pool of candidates," Gabby continued in the same tone, for he was not the type of secretary who was hesitant to convey his ideas, sentiments, or thoughts, no matter how they were disguised. "As the previous several have met with disfavour," Chase knew that.

He stood at the glass divider that divided him from the rest of his sleek, contemporary office, not at the window that looked out over one of Rome's richest areas. It was the ideal antidote to the fussiness and weight of Roman history that pervaded the rest of the city.

Chase was all too familiar with the three-thousand-year-old city, from its hidden streets to its most famous piazzas. He