Page 55 of Depths of Hunger

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look the same as I did before I got married, but inside, I’m completely different. Inside, I’m as much a monster as my husband—a product of my birth, my environment, but mostly, my ambition. I want to live.

I grab my bag and head downstairs, climbing into the back of the black BMW. Ralf shuts the door behind me, and seconds later, we’re speeding down the driveway. The gates loom ahead, still closed, and I hold my breath. The house security knows Renzo is alive because they’ve seen him on camera, and they’ll keep his secret because spilling it would cost them their lives. But did he leave instructions about me? The gates stay closed.

Ralf lowers the window as one of the security guys approaches. I don’t know his name. Ralf waves impatiently. “Che cazzo?” What the fuck?

“Renzo dice che lei non esce di qui senza lui o uno dei suoi fratelli come scorta.” Renzo says she doesn’t leave here without him or one of his brothers as an escort.

Fuck. This was exactly what I was afraid of. I start to speak, but Ralf beats me to it. “Sono il suo fottuto accompagnatore. Sono stata la sua sicurezza fin da quando era adolescente. Ora apri quel cazzo di cancello.”I’m her fucking escort. I’ve been her security since she was a teenager. Now open the fucking gate.

The guard shakes his head. “Renzo mi taglierà la testa, cazzo.” Renzo will have my fucking head.

I place my purse on my lap and lower the window. “I’ll have your fucking head if you keep me here any longer. I have a meeting. Open the fucking gate, or I’ll open it with your head.” I push my hand inside my purse, pretending to reach for a gun. The guard sees my movement, his eyes widening as he takes a step back. I know he’s heard about what happened to Big Tony and Giuseppe, and Angelo’sdisappearance hasn’t gone unnoticed either. All of it flashes across his face as I start to pull my hand out of my bag.

He retreats and signals to the camera. When the gate doesn’t open, he pulls out his phone, speaking rapidly into it as he turns away. I hold my breath until the gates finally swing open. My hands shake as I raise the window again.

I slump back in the seat, exhaling a shaky breath as Ralf accelerates away from the house. First hurdle down. I’m not looking forward to the next part. Ralf has been more than just security; he’s been a friend, of sorts. Or rather, we’ve been friendly. After today, he’s going to hate me.

We pull up in the alley beside my favorite café, just like we’ve done a million times. Ralf and I get out and head inside. Around others, he drinks espresso like all Italian men do, but when it’s just us, he orders an Americano with a load of sugar. “You wait here,” I tell him. “I’ll get our coffee.”

He nods, taking his position by the door to scan the crowd inside and out. I order our drinks and add sugar to his coffee at the bar. I also add the crushed sleeping pills I’d gotten from Albert. I told him I was having trouble sleeping when Renzo was gone, and Albert gave me some, no questions asked. I never took them; I couldn’t let my guard down like that. Today, while Renzo was downstairs with his brothers, I crushed them up.

I carry the cups back to Ralf. “Not sure when Luna will get here. She just texted saying she’ll be a bit late. How about we sit outside? I’ll take the corner table where you can see me from the car, and you’ll still have a view of the street. I want to people-watch; you know how I love it, and I get so little opportunity these days.”

Ralf hesitates but then takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes narrow, studying me. Shit. Can he taste the pills?

“Si, okay. You be careful, eh?Non fare niente di stupido.”Don’t do anything stupid.It’s the mantra he’s been saying to me for as long as I can remember. Ralf is like an older brother, just ten years my senior. I nod and take my seat at the table. Now, I just have to wait for the pills to kick in.

I dial Pippa’s number from memory. “Hey,” I say when she answers, trying to keep my voice casual. “Can you talk?”

“Yeah, just give me a second.” I hear her murmur to someone, “Torno subito, zia.” I’ll be right back, Auntie.A door clicks shut, and she comes back on the line. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the café.”

“Oh, nice. Are you meeting Luna or something?”

“No. Are you at Luigi’s?” I ask, trying to keep my tone light but every muscle in my body is wound tight. I don’t want to reveal too much because I know Renzo will question Pippa. I have to be careful.

“Yeah. He had to go out for something and asked me to stay the night.” She sighs heavily. “So, what are you doing at the café?”

“I’m waiting for Ralf to fall asleep.”

Pippa’s gasp is sharp, and I can visualize the shock on her face. “You’re doing it? You’re leaving?”

“Yes. Luna said things are getting worse on her end. There’s so much happening that I can’t tell you, but it’s a now-or-never situation, so I’m going for it.” My heart beats like a drum in my chest, and saying the words out loud makes my escape feel all too real. And terrifying.

“Good for you. Once you’re settled, let us know. Luna and I will join you.”

I close my eyes, a lump rising in my throat. I want that more than anything, but I know the chances of us meeting again without Renzo finding out are slim to none. The realization stabs at me, and sudden tears burn at the back of my eyes. I’m saying goodbye to my friend, and it hurts more than I expected. I clear my throat, struggling to keep my voice steady. “That would be great. I’ll send you a postcard to let you know I’m okay, and then we can figure out how to stay in contact.” It kills me to utter this lie. Maybe I can find a way to make it work. But even if I can’t, I’ll do everything I can to help Pippa and Luna escape, even if it means keeping them in the dark about where I am.

I glance toward Ralf, watching him sip his coffee. The minutes tick by, each one feeling like an eternity. Those damn pills better work, or I’m stuck.

“I’m going to miss you,” Pippa says softly. “Luna’s not the only one with changing circumstances. Now that you’re married—or were—Papa thinks I need to get married too. He’s looking for a husband. It’s awful. I don’t want to be married. Husbands suck.”

“Oh, I don’t know. There are some good things about it,” I say, trying to lighten the mood, even as dread twists my stomach.

“Yeah, sure. The sex on demand is great if you actually like your husband and the sex is good. But knowing my luck, that won’t happen. By the way, how was it with Renzo? We never really talked about it. Was he amazing in bed?”

“Yes,” I admit, swallowing the lump in my throat. “He was amazing. But it’s not just the sex. It’s nice having a partner who takes care of you, who keeps you safe, and who respects your ideas. That’s worth a lot.”

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