Chapter 6

Chapter

Six

" W hat the fuck are you talking about?" I snarl, gritting my teeth, struggling to hold onto the last thread of my patience. My lawyer's words are a punch to the gut, and it's taken every ounce of willpower I have not to slam my fists into the table. I shoot a glance at the guard watching us through the glass. If I lose it now, they'll drag me back to my cell in chains. I have to stay calm, even though calm is the last thing I feel.

Federico De Luca, my lawyer—and my cousin—leans in closer, speaking in a low, urgent voice. "Stay in control, Renzo. You need to keep it together. Any outburst can work against you. We're trying to get you out on bail, but you know how quickly that can change if they decide you're a problem."

I glare at him, my temper simmering just beneath the surface. Federico is good at his job; he's been a part of the Valdici clan for centuries. He's old—older than me, maybe seven hundred years or so. No one knows for sure, or at least they won't say. But he's a vampire, just like the rest of us. Unfortunately, he can't communicate telepathically, which means everything has to be said out loud—something that's dangerous in a room monitored by guards .

I pinch the bridge of my nose, forcing myself to breathe. "Tell me again."

Federico adjusts his glasses and lowers his voice further. "Angelo said Mia spoke to him last night. She told him she's taking over while you're in prison."

My jaw clenches. "So, my bride is more ambitious than we thought." My voice drips with venom. He should have known no good could come from marrying a human, even one as sexy as Mia. "Did she put me in here? Is this her doing? We underestimated her. I underestimated her and her damn mother. I should have spent more time with her before the wedding." I want to howl at my stupidity. "Do you think she planned my arrest?"

Federico shakes his head, frowning. "That doesn't add up, Lorenzo."

He's one of the few who uses my full name. It grates on my nerves. "Why the hell not? I've been locked up for less than ten hours, and she's already declared herself in charge. There's got to be something going on." My mind races, picturing every way I'll make Mia pay if she's involved in this.

"Mia didn't do this." Federico punctuates his assertion with a sharp knock on the table. "But she's definitely seizing the opportunity. Her mother's influence is all over this. Angelo said her mother showed up at the house while the Carabinieri were still there. As soon as they left, Mia told Angelo she was taking over."

My anger flares. My new wife is full of unwelcome surprises.

"It's not necessarily bad," Federico continues cautiously. "She's the best qualified for the role. She's a Giordano—respected by all. Her father might be weak, but her grandfather wasn't. There are some who'll try to move in on your territory, to take over as head of the family. Mia's the only one connected to both families…the Valdicis and the Giordanos. She's royalty. This is exactly why you married her—to legitimize the Valdicis as the one true family of Northern Italy."

I curse under my breath. He's not wrong, but that wasn't the only reason. I've wanted her since the first time I saw her, haunted by her dark eyes and the fire she tries so hard to hide. Now, she's stepping into my shoes, and I haven't even been gone a day.

"You must tell your men, including your brothers, to stand with her," Federico says. "Better her than Colucci or one of the other families. She will have a difficult time as it is to be respected. She needs the support of your men so the others see she has your respect."

My respect? I haven't respected a human in a long, long time. I rub the back of my neck, feeling the creeping hunger that I can't satisfy in here. "Colucci's not smart enough to be accepted as the head of the family, but I get your point." My stomach tightens at the thought of being trapped in this cell much longer. Feeding will become a problem soon, and I won't survive on what prison offers without attracting unwanted attention.

"Angelo will keep her in line, and once you're out, you'll reclaim your position. If you don't support her and another capo steps in, it'll be a fight to regain control. Big Tony, Lombardi, and Bobby Sticks—all are circling like sharks. Mia holding your place isn't the worst option."

I want to punch something—anything. "Arrested for the one fucking murder I didn't commit," I mutter bitterly. I've killed plenty of guys, but not Russo. "Fine. Tell Angelo to get everyone behind her. I'll tell my brothers. I'll back her, but if I find out she had anything to do with this, I'll make her regret it." I lock eyes with Federico, my intent clear.

Federico sighs, looking weary. "That's fair."

I sense there's more, and my impatience boils over. "What is it? What else do I need to worry about?" I've always known prison was a possibility, but I thought I'd see it coming. I thought I'd have time to prepare. Time to get my affairs in order and then disappear. The fact that I was blindsided has me alarmed. My dreams, my warnings, have always guided me, kept me one step ahead. The fact that I didn't see this coming shakes me to my foundation.

Federico hesitates before speaking, his voice low. "It doesn't look good, Lorenzo. They claim they have a fingerprint on the murder weapon and an eyewitness. "

My eyes snap to his, disbelief crashing over me. "No. That's impossible. I didn't kill Russo. I wasn't anywhere near him. Why would I risk the truce we have with the 'Ndrangheta?"

Federico's expression is grim. "I'm just telling you what I've heard. The plan is to get you out on bail and go from there."

I see the doubt in his eyes. "You don't sound confident."

"We're struggling to find a judge who's willing to play ball," he admits, casting a wary glance at the guard.

Tension crackles through me, anger and fear swirling together. "We've got three judges in our pocket. How is this even a problem? How did I not know I was being investigated? Where the fuck are my contacts in the Carabinieri?"

Federico's face tightens. "I know. Something's off, but until we can figure it out, you might be stuck here. Angelo's working on it, and you should have your brothers looking into it too." He pauses, the weight of the situation hanging between us. "Your arraignment's been moved up to just after lunch. We don't have much time."

I stare at him, every muscle in my body coiled tight with fury. "Then get those fucking judges in the building. I need to get out of here, Federico."

Federico stands and gathers his papers. "I'll bring a suit to the courthouse. But Lorenzo, prepare yourself. There's a chance we won't be able to get you out."

I rise to my feet, my temper barely restrained. "Figure it out." The threat is clear, and he knows exactly what I mean. He nods and walks out, leaving me with nothing but the cold metal and concrete of this interrogation room.

The guard escorts me back to my cell, shoving me inside. The room is small and barren with a cold metal bench bolted to the wall and a tiny window that barely lets in any light. I sit down, leaning back against the hard surface, trying to collect my thoughts. They've isolated me—smart on their part because right now, I'd kill anyone put in here with me.

Rage pulses through my veins, hot and consuming. Someone set me up. I didn't kill Russo, and yet here I am. We need that truce with the 'Ndrangheta. We need them to acknowledge our power so we can infiltrate their ranks. I'm not stupid enough to jeopardize that by killing one of their capos. The only answer is that someone's trying to take me out of the picture without killing me. But who?

The list is long, but it has to be someone on the inside—someone with the access necessary to plant evidence. Someone who benefits from me being alive but locked away. If they really wanted me dead, they would've tried by now, and they'd have failed. Whoever set me up, I'm going to make them wish they'd killed me because when I get out, they won't live long enough to regret it.

Mia's face floats behind my eyelids. I see my wife's head thrown back, biting her lip, totally wet for me. Despite the fury running wild in me, my cock stiffens. I want my fucking wife under me. If she's behind this, then I'm going to make her pay, but not before I fuck her every way I can first. The thought makes my blood burn hotter, and I know one thing for certain: Whoever set this in motion has no idea who they're dealing with. I'm coming for them. And I won't stop until I've torn their world apart.

I sit beside Federico with my nerves coiled tight as we wait for the judge to enter the courtroom. I haven't had a chance to ask my lawyer if he found a friendly judge or if this is another dead end. I can't afford to stay in prison. I need to feed, and smuggling blood inside will be damn near impossible even though we are in the blood trade. Smuggling blood for vampires and other creatures is one thing but getting it into a prison is something else entirely. We might be able to do it once or twice but not long term. Even if we manage that, I won't age, and it's only a matter of time before the guards notice a thousand other things that will give me away. Eventually, they'll figure out I'm a vampire, and then all hell will break loose.

If I end up stuck in here, my only option will be to break out, but then I'd have to disappear and start over from scratch. New name, new identity. I've done it before, but never when I've been on top. I've clawed my way up for centuries to get where I am, and I'm not ready to give it all up.

My thoughts drift to Russo, the dead capo at the center of all this. Why frame me for his murder? It doesn't add up. Who wants me out of the way this badly? I snort softly, my mind ticking through the endless list of enemies I've made over the centuries. There are plenty, both human and otherwise, who want me dead. But few have the resources, the cunning, to frame me so perfectly.

The courtroom door opens, and the judge enters. The proceedings start, but my mind keeps wandering back to prison, back to the bleak possibility of starting over. I could go to the New World—my cousins in Nova Scotia would take me in. But it's one of the first places the Italians would look. No, it has to be somewhere more remote, more obscure. Australia crosses my mind. It's been a few hundred years since I last set foot there. Back then, it was wild, lawless, perfect for someone like me. I remember the chaos, the freedom. A faint smile tugs at my lips.

"Stop smiling," Federico hisses, and I quickly school my features back into a neutral mask.

Federico makes his case—newly married, strong ties to the community, willing to surrender my passport…the usual bullshit. I sit as still as I can, my chest tight as I wait for the judge's response. The seconds stretch like hours. The judge nods at Federico, and my whole body releases the breath I didn't realize I was holding. I'm out on bail. Relief washes over me, almost dizzying in its intensity.

But this is just the first step. Now I have to find out who's trying to take me down. Whoever they are, they've made the biggest mistake of their lives.