Page 25 of Depths of Hunger

I hit the bottom of the stairs and Albert slides my fur coat over my shoulders. I put on a pair of massive dark sunglasses. It’s fucking fall and not cold yet, but I wear the fur because it’s a status symbol. Nothing says mourning mafia wife like big dark sunglasses and a fur coat.

“Thank you,” I say. “Is everything ready to host everyone after…” I let my voice trail away. I don’t need to finish the sentence.

“Of course, Signora.” Albert gives me a slight bow and then backs away.

“Please save me a plate of food.” I’ve learned over the last two weeks that I will not be able to eat whenla famigliais together. Too many people want to chat with me. I am the most powerful person in the room so my time is spoken for, with none spared for eating. I know the capos are just biding their time until one of them makes a move to rise to the top, but they’ve managed to keep me busy anyway. They’re testing me; hoping I’ll fail. But I’ll pass with flying colors. No one is taking this from me. No. One.

Angelo displays a bit of a limp as he ushers me out the door. Whether it’s for sympathy from me, or because it really pains him, Idon’t give a shit.

Ralf is standing at the bottom of the steps, holding open the car door. “Ciao, Ralf.”

He nods to me and gives me a wink while I slide into the car. He’s taken over as my driver and personal security since Paulie is still in the hospital. “How is Paulie? When is he getting out?” I ask as Angelo slides in beside me. I scoot over, putting a respectable distance between me and him. It annoys me that he thinks he needs to be this close.

Ralf walks around and gets into the driver’s seat of the black stretch limo. “Paulie is doing much better. He’s going home in a few days.”

“Good. Let me know when,” I say and then put up the glass partition. I need to do something nice for him since I’m now his boss too.

Angelo clears his throat. “The service has been all planned by your mother with limited input by Nico and Luca.”

“Will they be there?” It seems a stupid question to ask but my brothers-in-law have not been around much since Renzo died. They’ve preferred to stay over in Venezia where their father reigns supreme. The trio was thought of as the three Princes of Venezia before Renzo moved to take over the family.

“Yes, of course. Leonardo will be at the house later.” Angelo reaches out and rests a hand on my knee.

I turn to him. “Angelo.” I look pointedly at his hand. “My husband is not even in the ground.” This has gone way too far. I try not to sigh loudly.

His lips go into a thin line and the friendliness leaves his tone. “Mia, don’t bullshit me. It wasn’t a love match. You need a man as a partner and you and I make a good team. I don’t see the problem.”

I push his hand off my leg. “The problem is you’re my consigliere. You’re here to advise me, not to fuck me.”

“But we could be so good together.” He leans toward me as if to kiss me.

I smell the liquor on his breath. I move out of the way. “I’m not interested. If you can’t control yourself then I’ll have to have you moved somewhere else.”

He laughs. “You think you have power? Do you think those men are gonna listen to you, a puttana? You might have been a mafia princess before but once you married Renzo, and he died, you became his leftovers. You’re gonna need me if you want to stay in charge.” He twists around and puts his left hand on my thigh and tries to pin me to the back of the seat by squeezing my arm with his right while leaning in to kiss me.

“Stop it.” I push against his chest. My side is hurting. “I don’t want you. We’re not doing this,” I half-yell as I struggle to get him off me. He tries to claim my mouth, but I manage to slap him. He freezes and then his lip curls up. He slides his hand up my leg and tries to grab my pussy, but the car comes to a stop and Ralf is at the door opening it. I leave my fur in the car and slide out with Ralf’s help. My small hand is shaking in his large one. I let go of his hand and smooth out my dress.

“You look fine,” Ralf says. He glances into the car where Angelo is just climbing out the other side. “Do you want me to take care of him?”

My heart is still hammering against my ribcage. A huge part of me wants to say yes, kill the motherfucker. While I have come to loathe Angelo, he’s not wrong. I do need him. He has everyone’s ear, and his advice is usually spot on. I need that. We’ve accomplished a lot in the last couple of weeks. My leadership is precarious but with him, it’s on more solid footing. If I replace him, I’m not sure it would be the same.

“Not now,” I tell Ralf. It’s not a ‘no’ I realize, and now I know for sure that I’m going to give my consent at some point. Before the wedding, I would’ve been appalled at the thought of having someone killed. Today, that thought means it’s just another Friday.

Making that decision means I need to find a replacement. As much as I dislike my mother, I will ask her for help with this issue. She will provide a list of three or four names for me to choose from. That decided, I walk up the steps into the church. The priest is there, clutching my hand and offering words of comfort. Someone escorts me to the front of the cathedral. I take a seat in the family pew next to Nico, and Luca. My mother and father sit behind me and Angelo slides in with them. The next few hours will be long and painful forme. I grit my teeth and start the countdown in my head. T-minus two hours until I can be home, safe again.

As the priest drones on, I study the frescos above the altar. Was it just three weeks ago that I walked toward those same frescoes in a wedding dress and veil, prepared to marry a man I barely knew? A man I now admitted I missed. How my life had changed and changed again in a dizzyingly blip of time.

The service finishes with the fading notes of the last hymn. As I stand, Nico takes my arm and escorts me to the back of the church. People are waiting to give me their condolences. I don’t want them. I want all of this to be over. Fatigue hits me and I sway.

Nico puts his arm around me. “Are you okay?” His voice is so much like Renzo’s that my knees wobble.

Stupid that I should be this upset at losing a husband I didn’t want in the first place. I didn’t even know him that well and yet I missed him with a longing I don’t understand.

“Yes. Sorry. I’m tired. It’s been…traumatic.”

Nico looked at me with eyes that are so similar to Renzo’s and cocked an eyebrow. “You were only married a couple of weeks,” he said in between shaking hands with the people in line.

I nodded to a woman I’ve never seen before in my life. “True, but seeing my husband mowed down in front of me and getting shot myself is a bit more than just a typical date night.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “At least for me. Not sure about you and your family. Maybe it’s the norm for you.”

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