Page 3 of Depths of Hunger

“Of course.” Renzo leans over and kisses me again. The feel of his lips might be exciting if we’d met some other way, in some other time. Now, all I feel is dread. He isn’t going to be happy when he finds out my secret.

Renzo is devastatingly handsome with his jet-black hair, worn slightly longer so it falls over his forehead. His bright green eyes and chiseled jawline make him look like a movie star, but the power and danger that lurk beneath the surface is what makes him as terrifying as he is irresistible. His eyes can turn cold in a heartbeat. I saw it firsthand during our “get to know you” dinner, chaperones in tow.

We were sitting in a private courtyard when some drunk stumbled over, shouting about how Renzo’s brother, Nico, had screwed him and how the whole Valdici family were a bunch of pigs. Or at least that’s what I think he said. My Italian isn’t as good as it should be, thanks to attending boarding school in the United States since I wasfive. Renzo waved his bodyguards back and approached the man, then proceeded to beat the hell out of him. I thought for sure Renzo was going to kill him, but he finally let the guy drop, and the bodyguards dragged him away. Renzo disappeared inside to clean up, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the whole thing was some kind of show—a warning to me. This was my future husband, and I’d better toe whatever line he drew in the sand, or else.

On shaky knees, I follow Luna to the back of the hall. I think we’re heading to the restroom, but she directs me to a small door to the right of the stairs. She puts a finger to her lips and pushes me through.

I find myself in a coat closet, the scent of cedar and leather thick in the air. My other bestie, Pippa, is already there, holding a bottle of champagne. The dim light casts long shadows on the rows of elegant coats hanging neatly on wooden hangers.

“Need a drink?” Pippa asks, holding out the bottle.

I grab it, take a long gulp, and hand it back. “Thanks. This is just…”

“A fucking disaster?” Pippa finishes for me.

I nod, swallowing hard. “On so many levels.”

“Could be worse,” Luna says, taking the bottle from Pippa.

“How?” I demand, my voice sharper than I intend.

Luna takes a swig and hands the bottle back to Pippa. “You could have to marry Ignocio Dicerbo.”

A violent shudder runs through me, and I gag a little. “Oh my God. I can’t.” I glance around, spot a small stool, and flop down onto it.

“She’s right,” Pippa agrees. “He’s older than dirt, mean as hell, and weighs more than three hundred pounds. He’d squish you the first time you had sex.”

Suddenly, it all seems incredibly funny, and I start laughing. My friends join in, the sound echoing off the closet walls. The thought of marrying Dicerbo is hilarious—except it’s not, and I still can’t stop laughing. Pippa’s expression shifts as she realizes something is seriously wrong. She hands the bottle to Luna and takes my hand.

“Mia, that’s enough.”

But I keep laughing, doubling over with it.

“Mia,” Pippa repeats, more firmly this time.

I try to catch my breath, but the laughter keeps bubbling out, unstoppable. It’s like I’m outside my own body, watching myself lose it. Pippa and Luna exchange worried glances. Finally, Luna slaps me hard across the cheek.

The shock sobers me immediately. I stare at my friend, the sting on my cheek grounding me. “Thank you,” I whisper, my voice shaky. “I’m sorry.” Tears prick my eyes. This is a nightmare come true.

“It won’t be that bad,” Luna says, trying to reassure me. “Lorenzo is hot as hell. He’s like a dark, twisted Lucifer.” She chugs the champagne, then burps and hiccups. We all start laughing again, but a sound outside the door makes us clamp our hands over our mouths.

“Si lo so, ma deve essere presto o sarà troppo tardi. Sta negoziando l’accordo ora. Non abbiamo molto tempo.” The voice fades away, leaving us in tense silence.

“That sounded tense. What did he say?” Pippa asks as she takes the bottle from Luna.

Her Italian is worse than mine so I translate for her. “He said something along the lines of, ‘Yes, but it has to be soon or it will be too late.’ Then something about negotiating a deal and not having much time.” I shrug. I’m sure a lot of business is happening at my wedding. I don’t need to know about any of it, yet.

“Be happy you don’t know what it’s about,” Luna commented echoing my thoughts. Then she turned to me, “Seriously, Mia, are you okay?”

I meet her gaze, wanting to lie, to tell them I’m strong enough to handle this. But I can’t get the words out.

“I fucking hate them,” Pippa snarls. “You, of all people, shouldn’t be married to Lorenzo Valdici. He’s mean as hell and tough as nails. They all are—Nico and Luca too. Goddamn your father. That man should be shot.”

I reach out and squeeze her arm. “Pippa, don’t say that. I don’t like it either but killing my father won’t solve the problem. My mom is just as bad. Maybe worse.” I suppress a shudder. “If it’s not them, then the uncles or cousins will take over and decide who we marry. You can imagine how that would go.”

“Ignocio Dicerbo,” Pippa spits out the name with utter disgust.

“He’s the second choice. Dicerbo has all the best connections after Renzo’s family.” I muster the courage I have left and stand. “Let it go. We don’t have a choice. I’m married to Renzo, and I just have to make the best of it. At least for now.”

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