Page 2 of Depths of Hunger

Ashikaga gestures toward the man sitting in Rainier’s spot. He’s wearing an expensive suit and a smug expression. I hone in on the man. I am able to smell his blood. He’s a turned vampire, not born, as I am. He is puffed up with gym muscles and there is a cruel twist to his mouth. He is the picture of a thug. He does not belong here. He is not one of us.

“Leon Miller,” Ashikaga continues, “and his clan have assumed power of Berlin.”

Everyone assembled at the table, in fact, the entire room, breaks into murmurs. It is most uncommon for an outlier seethe…an assembly of vampires…to mount an insurrection to assume control

“What does that say to our enemies?” someone asks.

My father shakes his head.He is correct. It will be open season on full-blood vampires if these thugs are allowed to remain in control of Berlin.

Agreed. Someone needs to teach this asshole some manners.I am already starting to think of ways we could fortify ourselves against an uprising of any kind. I will immediately put out feelers when I get back. If something is in the works to take over our territory in Italy, I need to know about it immediately. It’s hard enough to keep our human mafia enemies at bay; keeping other vampires, even turned ones, from attacking is not going to be easy.

Miller holds up the Rainier dagger with the tiger’s eye stone and grins at the rest of the table. So that was it. He had the dagger.

“Just because he has the dagger, how do we know Heinrich and his entire family are dead?” the distinguished-looking vampire from Oxford, or was it Cambridge, asks. I always get them confused. “Do we have proof of death?”

“I thought you would never ask.” Miller’s grin is back, and it is ugly.

I brace myself. This is going to be bad.Father, prepare yourself.I offer the warning, not that I think my father can’t handle it. He is over eight hundred years old. I am a baby compared to him. But Heinrich and his family had been our friends for centuries.

Miller signals his second, and the thug behind him clicks a remote. Viewing monitors come out of the table in front of each throne. A video begins. It’s as awful as I predicted, but I show no emotion. I’ve seen death many, many times—probably more than most of the vampires in the room, even though they are much older than I am. I’ve been involved in all kinds of wars; I have sought them out, whereas others have avoided them.

Heinrich and his four adult children are beheaded one by one, their heads and bodies left in the sun. Their names are seared into my brain. Heinrich, Dieter, Fritz, Johann, and even Greta. It’s a horriblescene, with their ashes blowing away in the wind and scorch marks left on the concrete rooftop. Heinrich and his family did not deserve this. Angry lust for Miller’s blood rises within me, but I do nothing. I remain impassive.

My father’s hands are knitted together in his lap, and his knuckles are white. He is fuming. His anger and grief assaults me like a fist.Father, I am so sorry.

Miller stands. “Proof of death provided. If a Fondatori king wasn’t strong enough to hold his position against my ‘pathetic outlier seethe,’ then the honor of ruling that city should never have been his to begin with.”

There are general grumblings, but the king of the Toronto territories speaks out. “Complacency is not the same as weakness. And rest assured, that after realizing someone of your ilk would challenge someone of ours, this will not happen again.”

Miller shrugs. “My goal has been achieved. My people, nor I, are not a threat to any of you. I wanted Berlin, and I took it. I have no wish to take anything else. It is done.” He sits back down.

To calm my father, I comment,It’s too late, though. This one act changes everything. There will be others out there who believe they can do the same thing. None of our kingdoms are safe from this. We need to stem the tide before it turns against us.

Agreed. We will need to discuss how to move forward with your brothers when we get back to Italy.

I say nothing in response. I’m already planning. My mother’s voice once more rings in my ears;Life is fickle; never forget it can change in an instant.

Chapter

One

“Let’s raise a glass to the happy couple, Lorenzo and Mia,” Mario Grimaldi announces, his voice booming through the opulent wedding hall. Crystal chandeliers glitter above, casting a soft glow on the grand marble floors and the richly adorned tables. My eyes drift to the centerpiece on our table—a towering arrangement of white roses and deep red calla lilies, surrounded by flickering candles. The lavish spread of silverware gleams under the warm light, but all I feel is cold.

Mario turns to look at me, and I force a smile onto my face. My new husband, Lorenzo Valdici, the head of the Valdici mafia family that now controls all of Northern Italy, raises his glass. I do the same, tapping mine against his. The sound rings hollow in my ears. “Happy” isn’t in my vocabulary anymore. I take a large gulp of champagne and the bubbles burn down my throat. I’m not much of a drinker, but I have a feeling that’s about to change. My whole fucking life is about to change, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it.

My hand trembles as I raise the glass to my lips again. Renzo notices. His grip tightens on my thigh under the table, making my heart slam into my rib cage. I can’t tell if it’s from fear or excitement. My new husband is equal parts sexy and terrifying, and I have no idea how to handle either.

Renzo leans in close, his breath hot against my ear. “No wife of mine will ever be drunk in public,” he murmurs, his voice a low threat. Our gazes lock, his emerald eyes glittering with a dangerous intensity. “I will not have my wife drunk on our wedding night, either. Your family drew up the rules—no sex before the wedding was one of them. The wedding is over, and I want you stone-cold sober when I fuck you for the first time. I want you to remember every fucking detail because now you’re mine.” His eyes flick to the glass. “If you keep drinking, I’ll take you to one of the side rooms here at the hall right now and fuck you.Capisce? And Mia, do not embarrass me. You won’t like what happens when I’m angry.”

His eyes are the color of green fire—intense, mesmerizing, and terrifying as hell. I can’t seem to make my vocal cords function, so I just nod. Nothing else needs to be said. It’s not a request; it’s a decree. I set the glass down on the table, resolving on the spot to become a secret drinker. Why not? My life isn’t my own anymore. There’s no point in not becoming an alcoholic. Except, of course, Renzo wouldn’t like that either and he might take it out on not just me but my family—exactly how I ended up sitting at the wedding table as the guest of honor in the first place.

My gaze drifts over to my parents, standing nearby in conversation with Renzo’s brothers. Bile rises in my throat. I hate my parents with everything I have in me. They sold me into this marriage. “It’s a business arrangement,” my mother had said. “You’re a Giordano, Mia. You are the golden prize. The Giordano family is among the strongest and most connected in this world. You carry the name to your husband, and now the Valdicis and the Giordanos are family. Our ties are all the stronger for it. The business will grow, and we’ll be able to stop the ‘Ndrangheta and others from even thinking about moving in on our territories. No one will dare take us on now.”

When I made the unforgivable mistake of saying I didn’t want to marry Renzo, my mother slapped me, then backhanded me again just to drive the point home. I had no choice. My family was in trouble, and no one could know that. The Valdicis could save us, and my parents were willing to offer me up as the sacrificial lamb to makethat happen. If I didn’t comply, my mother would marry off my two best friends to the absolute worst men possible. They’re part ofla famigliatoo, and my father has the final say on their husbands. My mother is the meanest, most vindictive bitch I’ve ever known. I couldn’t let my dearest friends end up with a fate similar to the one I faced. In a cold, loveless marriage to a monster.

The fake smile stays plastered on my face as more people make toasts and approach the “happy couple.” The entire charade is brutal. My stomach churns, and I feel like I might vomit. Across the room, I catch Maria Delmonico’s eye. She gives me a tight smile. Her family married her off to Frankie Peaches—whatever his real last name is. Frankie’s a loser, but his family controls a significant chunk of the drug business in Milano. Rumor has it Maria has stepped in and is taking over because Frankie’s too incompetent to manage it. At least I won’t have to worry about something like that. Who the hell would want me to take over from Renzo?

“Mind if I borrow your bride for a moment?” Luna asks. My best friend squeezes my shoulder and directs a big, fake smile at Renzo. We’ve all become experts at pretending to be happy while hiding our hatred. A skill honed over a lifetime.

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