Page 8 of Depths of Hunger
“Good evening, sir, and may I offer my congratulations,” the butler says as we enter the grand foyer. The inside of the house is just as imposing as the outside—marble floors, high frescoed ceilings, and what appears to be expensive artwork on the walls.
“Thanks, Albert. Bring champagne up to my room,” Renzo commands, still carrying me as if I were nothing more than a sack of groceries.
“A chilled bottle awaits you already, sir,” Albert replies, his voicefloating up through the grand foyer as Renzo crests the stairs and strides confidently down the hallway.
My heart pounds against my ribcage so hard I’m sure Renzo can feel each thump as he strides along the plush carpet.
The hallway is grand and stately, lined with intricately patterned marble that glistens under the warm light of antique brass sconces. The walls are adorned with dark wood paneling, rich and glossy, interspersed with ornate frescoes depicting scenes from Roman mythology. The air is thick with the scent of polished mahogany, mingled with a faint, sweet hint of vanilla that clings to the old-world elegance of the space.
Renzo carries me effortlessly, his strides confident and unhurried, as we pass under an arched ceiling with hand-painted murals. At the end of the hallway, a set of grand double doors looms, carved with intricate floral motifs and framed by Corinthian columns. With a swift kick, Renzo pushes them open, revealing a room fit for royalty. The primary bedroom is bathed in a soft glow from a crystal chandelier. Floor-to-ceiling windows draped in heavy silk curtains line the walls.
I gasp. The room is enormous, with sliding glass doors along the left wall that open onto a balcony overlooking the dark, still water below. The rhythmic murmur of waves is just audible through the thick glass. A large fireplace dominates the wall near the entrance, its dark stone hearth matching the room’s moody, luxurious atmosphere. But it’s the bed that really catches my attention—a monstrously huge piece of furniture, draped in a black duvet and adorned with an excessive number of plush pillows. The sight of it sends a rush of blood through my veins, making my head spin.
Renzo throws me onto the bed, and my teeth snap together as I land with a soft thud.
“Take your clothes off,” he growls and strides toward a short hallway on the right that leads to what I assume is the bathroom. “I want you naked and waiting when I get back.” With that, he disappears behind a door, leaving me alone in the massive room.
I sit up slowly, my gaze drifting toward the sliding glass doors. Thedarkness outside feels oppressive, and I can barely make out the faint shimmer of the water. My heart races as I realize Renzo is expecting me to undress, too fucking bad—I can’t reach the zipper of my dress on my own. It’s a small victory, but I’ll take anything I can get.
Sweat breaks out on my palms. I’m a twenty-five-year-old virgin. How does that happen? Try being a mafia princess. No one is allowed near me. Peter was my tutor in economics, the only reason he was allowed into my world. And he wasn’t even that good-looking. Tony and Ralf, my security, didn’t think I’d want to sleep with him, so they didn’t worry about leaving us alone. But school is over, and I have no more opportunities to meet anyone else. Figures the one man who’s allowed close is too fucking scared of the consequences of sleeping with me to get it up.
A half-laugh, half-sob escapes from my throat, and I clamp a hand over my mouth. What the hell am I going to do?
Chapter
Four
Istand under the hot water, bracing myself against the slick, tiled shower wall. The scalding heat pounds over me, but it does nothing to wash away the frustration simmering in my veins. The wedding was long and fucking painful. The crowded room filled with humans and the murmur of too many voices had grated on me. The stifling mix of their perfumes clung to my senses. My hunger for blood claws at me, increasing with each passing moment. It’s a damn good thing I’d fed before the ceremony, or things could have gotten ugly.
Marrying a Giordano—mafia royalty—means no one can challenge my authority now. The Valdici clan is finally on top, both in the human world and the magickal one. It’s taken centuries, but we’ve done it. I could have done it through violence, but Mia was too enticing to give up. I sold it to my father as if this was the last thing I wanted but in reality, I’ve been looking forward to having Mia for a while now. Marriage doesn’t interest me, especially to a human. I find them hard to tolerate at the best of times. She better be worth what I’ve signed myself up for, otherwise her time on earth will run short.
Lorenzo, we are downstairs. My father’s voice cuts into my thoughts, echoing in my mind.
Speak of the devil.Father, it’s my wedding night. What’s so fucking important that you’re here to interrupt that?
Come down, is all my father says.
I curse under my breath, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. I dry off quickly, irritation simmering just beneath my skin. Pulling on a robe, I stalk out into the bedroom. Mia is standing in front of the glass doors, staring out at the darkening sky. “Why are you still dressed?” I snap as I stride past her. “Be naked by the time I get back.” I don’t wait for her response. I march out of the room and down the stairs, the tension knotting tighter in my chest with every step.
My father is waiting in my office when I enter, his imposing presence filling the room. “Congratulations again, Renzo,” he says, his tone approving. “You’ve done right by the family, as I knew you would.”
“Yeah, congrats, bro,” Luca chimes in, trying to suppress a smirk. He knows all too well why I married Mia.Not a bad way to take one for the team.
“Thanks.”Asshole, I add telepathically. I force the word out, trying not to let the bitterness creep into my voice. I want to get back to my wife and I’ve had enough company this evening. I have a brief flash of guilt. I should have told my father the truth, that I want my wife but that would only earn me lecture after lecture on why getting involved with humans is bad unless there is a major power gain. I am very well aware of the problems with humans, especially the female ones. I bite back a sigh. My wife has no idea she’s married to a vampire but understands she’s just a pawn in a chess game about the ultimate control—she just doesn’t know that it’s one that will ultimately end with her death.
As if reading my thoughts, my father adds, “Enjoy her for a while. It’s a necessary sacrifice. Once the ‘Ndrangheta fully understands that we control the northern half of the country, you can rid yourself of her and return to your true nature. It won’t be long now.”
I suppress a snort. I fully intend to enjoy my wife, over and over again. And when have we ever not been our natural selves? Thethought lingers, but I keep it to myself. Instead, I say, “I have a meeting set with the ‘Ndrangheta in a few weeks. The first step in negotiating the division of the territory. It’ll take a few months to sort everything, but after that, we’ll be free to proceed as planned.”
My father takes a seat behind my desk, a subtle yet pointed display of dominance that frays my nerves. Luca and Nico sink into the visitor chairs, Nico’s grin widening as he catches my eye. He knows how much it irks me when our father commandeers my space.
“Salvatore Palma reached out to congratulate you,” my father says. “As head of the ‘Ndrangheta families, his acknowledgment of your marriage is a good sign, but there’s no need to rush. The humans’ days are numbered regardless. We are vampires. We have centuries to accomplish our goals. Establishing ourselves here in the north, with spies embedded in the ‘Ndrangheta families, is crucial before we make our move. We must attack from within, both here in Italy and in the New World.”
I nod, keeping my face neutral.
I hope this isn’t going to be a long speech. Nico’s voice echoes in my mind.I have plans with Esme tonight.
You have plans with Esme every night,Luca interjects. The three of us have always communicated like this—holding side conversations while Father lectures. I’m sure he knows, but he lets it slide.