Page 35 of Depths of Hunger

Renzo looks at me and smiles. “I know, gattina.” He turns back to Angelo and drops him.

Angelo lands on his feet and staggers into the island. “How are you alive?” he asks and then starts coughing. “She’s a whore, Renzo. A slut. She sleeps with anyone that will have her,” he rasps. His voice is odd.

“Fuck you! That’s not true. Renzo?—”

He holds up his hand to me. “I know, gattina. Angelo is just trying to save his own ass. Did he hurt you?”

Angelo is still coughing. I hesitate, but I nod. My breasts are scratched, and my lips are bruised. I don’t want to tell Renzo that Angelo grabbed me. It’s too personal, and I feel dirty.

Renzo’s eyes narrow. “He touched you?”

I lick my lips and nod. “Y-es.”

Renzo’s eyes glitter a deeper shade of green as he turns back to Angelo, who rasps, “She’s nothing but a whore.”

“You don’t ever speak of her,” Renzo growls, and then, in the blink of an eye, he rips Angelo’s throat out. Blood sprays across the kitchen.

Angelo stares in shock, as if trying to understand what just happened. Renzo snarls as his fangs come out, and he leaps on Angelo, who tries to scream but it’s way too late. He’s already dead; his body just doesn’t know it yet. Renzo takes a chunk out of Angelo’s shoulder and starts drinking his blood.

I cannot believe what I’m seeing. My knees give out, and I collapse to the floor. My husband, the man I just let fuck me, is a vampire. A real honest to God vampire. What the hell am I going to do?

Chapter

Fifteen

Are you sure she’s okay, Renzo?Nico’s voice breaks the tense silence among my brothers and I, his eyes locked on me with a mix of concern and skepticism. I follow his gaze to Mia, who sits curled up on the dark leather sofa in my office. Her slender frame is wrapped in a tight, defensive ball, knees pulled to her chest, staring blankly at the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the sea below. Her oversized sweater and sweatpants make her seem smaller still. The room is dim, lit only by the warm glow of the fireplace, casting long, flickering shadows across the rich mahogany bookshelves and antique furniture. My office feels like a fortress—dark, imposing, with heavy drapes that shut out the world, likely adding to how small Mia looks, so vulnerable, swallowed by it all. But I know she is tougher than she appears. She just needs time.

“She’s fine,” I say, though I’m not sure I believe it myself. I am worried. I have dreamt of Mia since that first night in her dorm. I’ve fantasized about having her, both carnally and tasting her blood, but not once in any of that time did I imagine I might care about her. She is so much more than I bargained for. Tough, smart, ambitious. The perfect mate, except she’s human. A human mate is always a bad idea,but I can’t bring myself to see Mia that way, not now. She is my gattina, my kitten, and woe to anyone who dares to lay a hand on her.

I stare out the window and tried to hide the bemusement I feel. The truth is, I lost control with Angelo. I shouldn’t have killed him in front of her, or at the very least, I shouldn’t have fed on him so openly. I thought she understood when I told her I was a vampire, but clearly, the reality is much harder for her to swallow. I should be angry, but instead, I find myself troubled. Two weeks ago, I would’ve seen this as a perfect excuse to rid myself of my wife, but now the thought of Mia dead constricts my chest. My gattina has gotten under my skin—her fire, her intelligence, and God knows her presence in my bed. I can’t afford to lose her now. It takes everything I have not to go over and wrap my arms around her. I want to comfort her, make her feel safe from the monsters, except I am the monster, and she doesn’t want me near her.

Luca leans casually against my desk, his tailored navy suit hugging his athletic frame, his gaze sharp and calculating. “So, do you think Angelo tried to have you killed?” His tone is nonchalant, but there’s a hard edge beneath it.

“It would make sense,” I say, forcing a laugh that comes out bitter. “He was practically salivating to take my place in more ways than one. My body wasn’t even cold.”

“No.” Mia’s voice is sharp and firm, slicing through the room like a knife.

It’s the first thing she’s said since the incident, and all eyes turn to her. She looks up, her face pale but composed, her dark eyes piercing as they meet mine.

I prompt her, “What do you mean, Mia?”

She hesitates for a moment, then her gaze locks onto mine, unwavering. “Angelo was an opportunist. In his core, he was nothing more than a gossip who’d learned to turn information into currency. He only ever shared what he knew because he saw you rising to the top. He was ambitious, yes, but he wasn’t strategic. Angelo couldn’t think five moves ahead. He’d collect all the data, but he’d leave the decisions to you. At least that’s how he operated withme since you’ve been dead.” She snorts like she finds my death funny.

Her words are precise, calculated. I study her, absorbing every detail—her clenched hands, the subtle quiver in her voice. She’s scared, but that hasn’t killed the fire in her, a determination that’s impossible to ignore. It fills me with pride and wonder. This is my wife. Mine. I want to take her upstairs right now and make her call out my name. I clear my throat and try to clear my head of the image of Mia, wet for me, shouting my name.

I think back to my relationship with Angelo; the way he always delivered what I needed without question. There was truth in what she said. Angelo never led; he followed, waiting for me to tell him what to do.

“You’re right,” I say. I want her to know I respect her opinion. “So, if you don’t think it was Angelo, who do you suspect?” I ask, my voice lower, more serious. A curious sense of expectation settles on me. I want to know her thoughts because I now recognize their value.

Mia shrugs lightly, but there’s tension in the movement. “I’m not sure. But it wasn’t Angelo. He was only hoping to step into the void you left behind. Whoever’s behind this took the time to plan. They framed you for Russo’s murder, and when that failed to get you locked up permanently, they looked for another way to take you out. This is bigger than Angelo’s ambitions.”

Nico turns from the window, the low lamp light reflected in his cold green eyes. He leans against the glass, hands in the pockets of his light gray suit, and studies Mia like she’s a puzzle he can’t quite solve. “You think it’s one of the capos? Someone on the inside?”

Mia nods, her expression tightening. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. Someone wants Renzo gone, and they don’t care how they do it.”

Luca taps his fingers against the polished surface of my desk, his gaze flicking between us. “All right, let’s go through the list,” he says, straightening and ticking off names on his fingers. “Big Tony?”

I’m about to interject, but I realize Luca is speaking directly to Mia, watching her with a curious intensity. The way his eyes linger onher as if he’s testing her resolve, irritates me. I clench my jaw and fight the urge to remind him who she belongs to. Luca smirks, sensing my unease, but he doesn’t back down. My desire to pummel him is equal to my desire to take my wife upstairs and fuck her until she screams. I grind my teeth.

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