Page 1 of Depths of Desire
CHAPTER ONE
The ship glowed like it was dressed for Christmas, strings of bulbs dangling in every conceivable space. Shadows are nearly non-existent, leaving me exposed in the glaring light. Metallic clanking as the cargo is loaded vibrates through my chest, each sharp clang setting my nerves on edge. I grit my teeth and whisper to myselftwelve days. Just twelve days on this rust bucket, and I’m home free.
Once I reach the U.S., I’ll disappear. Twelve days.
“Voi! Cosa fai?”
The shout slices through the noise, and I freeze.
A man wearing grimy coveralls and a hard hat strides toward me. His voice echoes with authority, and my stomach twists.
“I…” I lick my lips, struggling to remember the words. My Italian is barely passable, despite my heritage. Boarding school in the U.S. ensured that English is my true first language. “Um…Ho prenotato… il passaggio… sulla nave?”
The man eyes me with a sharp, assessing gaze. A long scar cuts across his chin, twisting with his smirk. His leer sends a shiver racing down my spine.
“Your Italian isn’t so good,” he says in heavily-accented English. “You book passage, huh? Rybeck mentioned someone would be joining us, but he kept the details to himself.” His grin widens, revealing teeth stained either from too much coffee or tobacco. “I’m Dante. Come. I’ll show you to your room.”
I grab my duffle bag and follow him across the deck. Thanks to my shorter legs, I struggle to keep up with his brisk pace. The air reeks of salt, oil, and something metallic.
After a dizzying maze of turns and stairs, Dante finally stops in front of a narrow door and taps the jamb. “Here. You stay in here.”
I peek inside. The room is a claustrophobic cube—a single bunk shoved against one wall, a tiny table that’s bolted down, and a lamp screwed in place. A small, round window offered a limited view of the outside world.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I asked hesitantly.
Dante shrugs and jabs his thumb toward the hall. “Two doors down, on the right.” His gaze rakes over me again, lingering too long. “You should stay in your cabin. Don’t wander. Not safe. Not for you.” He thrusts a key into my hand, his meaning hanging in the stale air between us.
I nod stiffly. “Food?” The word comes out awkward, stilted, and I wince at how timid I sound.
He grins, the kind of grin that feels more like a warning. “Two decks up.” Then, without another word, he disappears down the passageway, leaving me alone.
I shut the door and collapse onto the thin mattress. My chest tightens, and I struggle to breathe. This is my only way out, I remind myself. Flying isn’t an option—my father would track me. Taking the train? He’d find me before I even reached the border. But this? He’d never expect me to vanish via cargo ship.
Still, it’s a gamble. Twelve days is plenty of time for him to figure out where I am. If he does, he could have men waiting forme in Baltimore. Or worse, he could land a helicopter right on the deck and drag me away. I doubt the crew members would do anything to stop him, either.
I’ve laid false trails, spent weeks devising the perfect escape. If my plan works, he’ll search in all the wrong places. He has to, or… I don’t even want to float the words in my mind, certain the universe would find a way to make my worst fears happen.
My stomach growls, pulling me out of my thoughts. Dante had said I’d find food two decks up. Maybe I should grab some now, while the crew is distracted preparing the ship to leave the harbor.
I stand and immediately grab the wall for balance. The ship is barely moving, but I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. My stomach churns. Seasick. Perfect.
Squaring my shoulders, I step out of my cabin and lock the door behind me. The hallway stretches endlessly, and after ten minutes of wandering, I realize I’m hopelessly lost. Panic flutters in my chest, sharp and relentless. Stumbling, I enter a stairwell, gripping the railing for support.
Voices drift up from below. My pulse quickens as I peer over the edge of the railing. A man disappears through a doorway two floors down. Hope flickers that he might help me.
I descend the stairs, each step echoing in the silence. When I push open the door, my heart sinks. I couldn’t find the galley, but I did stumble into the cargo hold.
The space is massive. Floor-to-ceiling stacks of shipping containers resemble towering skyscrapers. The center of the hold opens to the sky, and faint starlight casts eerie shadows. The catwalk beneath my feet vibrates with each step, and I grip the railing tightly.
Voices echo again, louder now. Like they have minds of their own, my feet carry me toward the sound, the metal of the catwalk creaking beneath me.
Ahead, on a lower level, I see them—four men. Three in coveralls and hard hats. The fourth? I’d know him anywhere, even if he wasn’t in his impeccably tailored suit.
Niccolo Valdici.
Terror lances through me, cold and suffocating. How did he find me? My parents aren’t expecting to hear from me for days. I told them I was visiting Mia in Venice. They only let me go because I begged and because they knew Renzo wouldn’t let anything happen to me. And he wouldn’t if I were actually there. There’s no way my parents could know I’m here.
I press a trembling hand to my mouth. Then I realize—he’s not here for me. Nico’s voice rises in anger. “It’s not my fucking fault you lost the shipment overboard. You screwed up, and I’m not paying for your mistake.”
