Page 8 of Depths of Desire (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #3)

She’s not stupid. She knows my family has properties scattered across Europe—places meant to disappear into when things get messy. "Not one of my family’s," I say, keeping my tone even. "This one is mine."

Her gaze sharpens, her fingers tightening around the blanket. "Why?"

I let a smirk curl the corner of my mouth. "Doing you a favor, sunshine. If we go to one of the Valdici safe houses, someone will find out you’re with me. And I don’t think you want that."

She doesn’t argue, but I catch the way her shoulders stiffen.

She knows I’m right. This isn’t just about keeping her hidden.

It’s about protecting her from my own family.

Because if my father knew she was with me, he’d see her as nothing more than a pawn in whatever game is being played.

And for some reason, that doesn’t sit right with me.

Luna lets out a quiet sigh and turns to stare out the window.

She doesn’t ask any more questions. Maybe she’s too tired, or maybe she’s starting to trust me.

Either way, she’s mine to protect now. I take comfort in the fact that her heart isn’t racing in fear right now.

If anything, to my senses, the beat is sluggish.

The drive takes a little over two hours, winding along the coastal roads of the French Riviera, the dark Mediterranean stretching endlessly beyond the cliffs. The scent of the sea filters through the car, mingling with the rich leather interior.

Luna dozes off somewhere around Alassio, her head lolling against the window, her breathing soft and even. She’s still fighting sleep, though—I can tell by the way her fingers twitch in her lap, like she’s afraid to let go completely.

I pull off the main road and into Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, the exclusive peninsula just outside of Nice. The town is quiet at this hour, the streets lined with white villas, their manicured gardens hidden behind high gates.

I take a private road leading up to the long, serpentine driveway, tires whispering over smooth cobblestones as we pass a long border of towering cypress trees.

I love it here. I’ve kept this house for a long time, hiding my identity over the years.

It’s one of the few things I’ve kept that connects me to my past.

Motion-sensor lights blink on as we approach, casting long, ghostly shadows over the hedges and ivy-covered walls.

The wrought-iron gate at the bottom of the hill starts to open once I confirm my identity with an iris scan.

Hidden cameras pivot silently on well-oiled mounts, tracking our progress.

I know that inside the security room in the outbuilding, men are watching to make sure I’m safe.

I glance at Luna, but she’s still asleep.

The villa appears slowly—first as a silhouette against the night sky, then fully illuminated by subtle, elegant uplighting that bathes the cream-colored stone facade in warm amber.

The structure perches on the hillside like a sentinel, looking out over the dark shimmer of the Mediterranean far below.

Terracotta roof tiles gleam under the moonlight.

Shutters are closed, but the soft glow from interior sconces hints at activity within.

The driveway circles a grand stone fountain, its gentle trickle the only sound beyond the hum of the car’s engine.

Discreet, modern garden lights line the pathway, guiding them to the front steps like a landing strip.

I take it all in—arched windows, intricate wrought iron balconies, and the faint scent of lavender on the wind. The villa is stunning. Opulent. It’s also an impenetrable fortress. And as I shut off the engine, I smile. The most important feature of the villa is that it’s mine. Only mine.

She stirs now that the engine is off, blinking up at me with sleepy confusion. "We’re here?"

"Yeah." I step out and skirt the front end to open her door.

She frowns but says nothing, letting me help her out. Her legs wobble slightly, but she catches herself, always so damn stubborn. I keep my arm around her as we go up the stairs. She doesn’t ask where we are. Maybe she doesn’t care. Maybe she’s too tired.

The heavy oak door opens with a quiet click—no creak, no groan—just the whisper of finely engineered hinges. I punch in a code on a discreet panel inside the door frame, and immediately there is the soft sound of locks sliding into place behind them.

The villa is cool and quiet. The interior air scented faintly with orange blossom and old wood.

Recessed lighting casts a warm, golden glow over polished travertine floors which stretch into the distance.

Arched doorways and tall ceilings create an elegant openness, yet every shadow seems deliberate—designed to conceal as much as it reveals.

To the left, a sunken living room anchors the space with soft leather furniture in muted earth-tones, a low fire crackling behind glass in a modern hearth. Built-in shelves line the walls, filled not with books, but with art objects—ancient, rare, and expensive.

Luna follows me past a grand staircase with wrought-iron railings, its steps worn just enough to hint at generations of careful footsteps. The walls are textured plaster, hand-troweled, and painted in soft tones of cream and taupe, accented by moody uplighting that glows like candlelight.

Beyond the hallway lies a sleek kitchen with stone countertops and dark cabinetry, utterly quiet, utterly spotless.

A tray already sits on the island—wine, bread, and cheese set out.

Carson had left it as instructed. Having good people is paramount to survival when you’re a vampire.

Having a loyal firanglis, is the best I could hope for.

The deeper we go, the more I relax—this villa isn’t just a home. It’s a sanctuary. It’s also a command center, so I can run the family empire from here. I will use my resources to find out who is behind the mess in the harbor, and I’ll do it from the comfort of my own estate.

Luna exhales, taking it all in. "This is yours?"

I nod, setting my keys on the counter. "Yeah."

Her brows lift slightly. "You have expensive taste."

"I like my privacy."

She makes a soft sound and turns back toward the windows that make up the wall behind the table and chairs. "It’s beautiful."

She looks small here. Fragile, even. And I hate it. I like it when she’s arguing with me, full of fire and confidence. Quiet Luna puts my protective nature into overdrive, and I don’t need any more complications in my life.

"Go shower," I tell her, tossing my jacket onto the back of a stool at the island counter. "Upstairs, the last door on the right is your bedroom. There are towels in the bathroom. I’ll find you something dry to wear. Then I’ll re-wrap your wound."

She hesitates but then nods, disappearing down the hallway.

I rub a hand over my face, exhaustion starting to settle in.

Guilt washes over me. I should reach out to Renzo and fill him in on Luna.

The meeting with my father will be long over.

I don’t feel obligated to tell Father, but Renzo is a different matter.

Maybe once Luca gets back to me about the cameras, I’ll loop Renzo in.

But right now, I need to take care of Luna.

I move to the kitchen, pulling open the fridge. There’s a bottle of wine, already chilled. I texted Carson earlier to make sure the place was ready and the fridge stocked.

By the time she emerges from the shower, her damp hair falling over her shoulders, I’ve set a cup of tea on the marble counter beside a glass of crisp white wine and the tray of cheese and crackers. She’s wearing one of the robes that I leave in every bathroom for guests, and it’s enormous on her.

She pauses, blinking at it. "You didn’t have to do that."

“Sit,” I say. I push up the sleeve of my robe and look at the cut on her arm. I pull out some medical glue and butterfly bandages. Using both is overkill, but I’d rather be safe than sorry with Luna.

“Thank you,” she mutters as I put the last adhesive strip in place.

"Eat."

She doesn’t argue. She slips onto one of the barstools, pulling the robe tighter around her shoulders as she takes a bite. For a moment, it’s quiet. Then she sets her crackers and cheese down. "What do you think happened on the ship?"

I lean against the counter, crossing my arms. "I think someone wanted to make a statement."

She studies me. "Against you or the Valdici family?"

I don’t answer right away. “I don’t know,” I say finally. “I would like to think we’re collateral damage for a change, but…” I shrug. “Too soon to tell.”

She pops a piece of cheese in her mouth and chews. “What do you think all this is about?”

“I have no idea.” Then I say, "But I believe you’re in danger. There is an above average chance someone saw you, which makes you a loose end."

She shivers, looking down at her plate.

"I don’t know what I was thinking," she mutters. "I thought I could just disappear."

I tilt my head. "You still think you can?"

She lifts her chin, meeting my gaze. "Yes."

I chuckle, shaking my head. "We’ll see, sunshine."

She scowls but doesn’t argue.

A few minutes later, her exhaustion wins out. Her head starts to dip, her eyelids sink low.

I push away from the counter. "Come on."

She frowns. "I can walk."

I ignore her, bending down and scooping her into my arms.

She lets out a soft gasp, her fingers curling into my shirt.

"Nico—"

"Sleep."

I carry her up the stairs and down the hallway, nudging open the door to the bedroom next to mine. It’s quiet and dark, the ocean visible through the windows. I lay her down carefully and pull the blanket over her.

She shifts slightly, already half-asleep.

I watch her for a moment, then turn away.

I should leave. Instead, I lean against the door frame, arms crossed, and watch over her.

Because I’m not ready to let her out of my sight just yet.

For some reason, I want to drink in the sight of her small head against the pillows.

She looks so fragile. Looks can be deceiving.

I smile. She’s not fragile, but she is in danger.

I can feel it. Now I just have to figure out how to keep her safe.

Somehow, I know that’s not going to be easy.

Nothing with Luna seems easy.