Page 21 of Depths of Obsession (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #2)

CHAPTER 21

“ J esus Christ, Luca! What the fuck were you thinking?” Renzo demands as he comes to stand in front of me. I look around him and nod to Rocco, who immediately ushers Luna and Pippa to the elevator.

“ Dove stanno andando? Non vanno de nessuna parte! ” Gazzago yells, his face a mask of rage. His bodyguards move to block Rocco.

Renzo growls, “Let them go, Tommy.”

Gazzago turns, his lip curling in contempt. “You forget who you speak to. She is mine—my fee for my cousin. You don’t get to say no to me.” He hits his chest with his fist, puffing out like an enraged bull. “I get this shit annullato !”

Renzo whirls around, charging toward Gazzago, and I’m right behind him. Two of Gazzago’s bodyguards step forward to intercept, but I slip in front of Renzo, throwing a throat punch at the first guard. He collapses, and I sucker punch the second, his body crumpling to the floor.

The other two guards pull their guns, but before they can react, Rocco appears behind them, each of his hands holding a gun to their backs. They freeze.

“You listen to me, you fat fuck,” Renzo snarls, his voice dripping with venom, “Pippa is now my sister-in-law. You have zero claim to her. Zero . You’ll have to settle for money to compensate you for your cousin—a hundred K, just like you were charging De Carlo. That’s what you’ll get. If you keep pushing, you won’t even get that. I suggest you shut the fuck up and get out of here.”

Gazzago’s face turns an alarming shade of red. “I will kill your deal!” he yells, his voice strained.

Renzo scoffs, “I don’t fucking need more drugs.”

“ Stronzo !” Gazzago spits at Renzo, rage clear in his eyes. I’ve had enough. In a blink, I grab him by the throat and squeeze.

Renzo’s voice is chilling, his gaze unwavering. “I would think very carefully if I were you. My brother has no problem killing you. In fact, I think he’d enjoy it immensely. Now, you’re going to fuck right off. Take the only offer on the table and keep your mouth shut.”

The blood drains from Gazzago’s face as he struggles to breathe. “I… know… the blood trade,” he manages to gasp. “I know… what… you are.”

Renzo leans in, eyes narrowed, studying Gazzago’s face. “Let him go,” he finally orders.

I hesitate. My fingers tighten around his throat, anger roiling inside me like a storm. This bastard has tormented Pippa. He deserves to suffer.

Stop, Luca, Renzo’s voice pierces my mind telepathically, and thanks to the instant headache that follows, I know he is serious. We need to find out what he knows.

“Let him go,” Renzo says aloud again.

“Why?” I ask, barely holding my temper in check. “Why do we care what he knows? So what if he thinks he knows something? If I kill him, it won’t matter.”

“Let him go.”

“Fucking hell,” I mutter. I open my hand, and Gazzago staggers backward, stumbling until he grips a nearby chair for support. He falls into it, coughing, his face regaining a hint of color. He glares at me, but his defiance is hollow.

I stay beside Renzo, my hands clenched, the urge to rip Gazzago apart barely restrained.

“Dismiss your men,” Renzo commands.

Gazzago’s coughing fit subsides, and he glares at Renzo, his eyes filled with loathing.

“You want to live?” Renzo asks, his tone dangerously calm.

Gazzago mutters something under his breath but waves his men off. The guards help each other up and head to the stairwell. “Wait for me at the car,” Gazzago orders, his voice hoarse.

I nod to Rocco, and he gives me a nod in return—he’ll make sure they stay out of trouble. As Renzo takes a seat across from Gazzago, I stand a few feet away, my eyes never leaving the man who brought so much fear to Pippa’s life.

“What do you think you know?” Renzo asks, his voice mild. It’s misleading. I know my brother—if Gazzago says the wrong thing, Renzo will kill him without hesitation.

Gazzago glares at Renzo, then glances at me, trying to appear unfazed. He fails. The stench of his fear is unmistakable. “You… are not from this world,” he says, his voice cracking slightly.

I roll my eyes dramatically. “I beg to differ. We’re definitely from here.”

“No,” Gazzago says, his voice trembling despite his attempt to sound tough. “You’re fucking vampires,” he spits out, but the words are accompanied by terror—his skin pales, and the vein in his neck pounds like a drumbeat echoing in the tense silence.

I freeze, exchanging a glance with Renzo. Shit. How the fuck does he know that? Gazzago’s heart races faster, panic in his eyes. He’s on the verge of a heart attack, and if he dies now, we won’t get anything useful out of him. Renzo curses.

I walk over to the outdoor kitchen, grab a glass, and splash some bourbon into it. Returning, I thrust the glass at Gazzago. “Here,” I say.

“I don’t want your?—”

“Save it. If you don’t calm down, you’re going to drop dead of a heart attack. Not that I’d care, but Renzo seems to, so I’m indulging my brother.”

The old man is clutching his arm, his face ashen. He relents and takes the drink, swallowing deeply before coughing. He takes another sip, and slowly, his color begins to return, the tremor in his hands easing.

“Tell me what you think you know,” Renzo says, leaning back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankles. To anyone else, he looks relaxed—casual. But I know he’s just getting a better angle to strike should the need arise.

“I know everything,” Gazzago says, lifting the glass and draining it.

I stand beside him, arms crossed tightly to keep myself from lunging at him, fangs burning with bloodlust.

Renzo sighs, the sound filled with exaggerated patience. “I doubt you know everything. So why don’t you stop the bullshit and tell me what you think you know before Luca snaps your neck.”

Gazzago looks at me nervously but keeps his eyes mostly on Renzo. “I have connections in the magickal realm,” he says.

Rather than denying it, Renzo asks, “What kind of connections?”

Gazzago waves his hands dismissively. “Not important. I have proof of what you are.”

“Really?” Renzo says dryly. “I think I’d like to see that.”

“No,” Gazzago shakes his head stubbornly. “I won’t show you everything, but I have pictures to prove it. I’ll show you one.” He holds up his hands, then slowly slips one into the inside pocket on his jacket. He pulls out his phone, and his fingers shake as he taps on the screen. He holds it up, first to Renzo, then to me. It’s a blurry picture—someone holding another man up, the scene indistinct, their faces obscured.

“I think you’re going to need better proof than that. That could be anybody,” I say, unimpressed.

Gazzago smiles coldly. “It could be, but it’s not. It’s your brother,” he says, nodding toward me. “Sucking some guy’s blood.”

I snatch the phone from his hand before he even realizes what’s happening.

“Fuck you,” he snarls.

I look closely at the picture. It’s not me. It’s the creature that’s been at my club, dealing drugs. My heart clenches in shock—Gazzago is connected to the asshole selling Black Heart. Renzo, it’s the creature from the club. The one made to look like me.

Fuck, Renzo swears again.

“Where did you get this picture?” My voice is deadly soft, and I’m doing everything I can to hold back, but my fangs are lengthening, bloodlust surging.

Gazzago shifts in his chair, his expression hardening. “Not so easy to dismiss, huh? I have proof that you’re vampires.”

“Where did you get this proof?” I growl.

“Not important,” he says, smugness returning. “What’s important is the necklace.”

Renzo’s head jerks. “The necklace?” He frowns. “Why the hell is that important? A minute ago, it was all about Pippa.”

“I need either the necklace or Pippa.”

My heart stutters. “What do you mean you need the necklace or Pippa?”

“I have… a friend,” Gazzago says, almost sneering. “That friend wants the necklace, and when I couldn’t get it, he said Pippa would do. Now that you have the girl, I need the necklace. If you don’t get it for me, I’ll put this and many other pictures all over the internet. I’ll make sure the world knows what you are.”

Renzo cocks his head. “So, the Queen’s Heart necklace, or you tell the world what we are?”

“Yes,” Gazzago confirms.

“Tommy,” Renzo says, standing up, “tell the fucking world.”

Gazzago’s face falls, his eyes widening in fear. “I will! I’ll tell the world, and they’ll come for you—you mostri ,” he spits.

Renzo shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe they’ll think you’re just a tired old man who’s lost his mind. I’d bet on the latter.” He steps closer, resting a hand on the table and leaning in. “A hundred K, Tommy. You give the deal with the Afghans your blessing and then you retire to the country. That’s my deal. You get to live. Take it”—Renzo says as he puts one hand on the table and leans toward Gazzago—“or leave it.”

I let my fangs lengthen, just enough for Gazzago to see, and Renzo does the same. The rapid throb of Gazzago’s heart is getting fucking annoying, and I want to kill him just to stop the pounding.

Not surprisingly, he deflates, sagging into the chair, his body trembling.

“They have my children,” he says, his voice breaking. “My sons, my daughter—she’s pregnant. If I don’t bring the girl or the necklace, they’ll kill them.”

My gaze locks with Renzo’s. What the fuck?

Renzo nods slightly, signaling me to keep going.

“Who, Tommy?” I ask. “Who’s holding your children?”

He looks at me, his face lined with exhaustion. “I don’t know their names. I dealt with one man, and… something else. Their voices…they were strange—inhuman.”

One advantage of being a vampire—I can always tell when people lie. His heart, the adrenaline, it’s all there. I know he’s telling the truth. And suddenly, everything makes sense: why he was so desperate for the necklace, why he hated his cousin for jeopardizing things. He needed it to save his kids.

“But why Pippa?” I ask.

He meets my eyes, guilt plain in his expression. “I saw the way you looked at her at the gallery. I mentioned it to the man I deal with. I said I was using her to sweeten the pot. That the way you looked at her meant you would for sure get the necklace. The guy said nothing but called me back ten minutes later and gave me a choice, the girl or the necklace for my children. Either one would do.” Gazzago shakes his head and points at me. “Someone really hates you.”

I feel ice grip my heart. “Who?” I ask. “Who hates me?”

Gazzago shifts, his fear palpable. “He calls himself Robert. Pronounced the French way.”

“Robert?” Renzo pulls out his phone, showing Gazzago the picture of the creature from my club. “Is this Robert?”

Gazzago nods slowly, his face turning a shade of green. “Yes… he looks like you, but different. Is he related to you?”

“No,” Renzo says.

I stand frozen, trying to comprehend, my mind racing. Everything Pippa went through with Gazzago, with her father, it’s all because of me. If I didn’t care about her, if I didn’t love her she would’ve been fine.”

Luca , Renzo nudges me.

I ignore him. How could I have gotten this so fucking wrong? Here I thought I was protecting her and all the while I was putting her in the line of fire.

Brother, focus. I need you here focused, Renzo growls. We need more information.

I tip my head at Renzo and then he goes back to Gazzago. “How do you communicate with them?”

Gazzago pulls another cell out of his pocket. “I call the number on here. Robert is the one I deal with. I have only spoken with the other one once or twice.”

Renzo narrows his eyes for a moment then he says, “We’re going to need you to call Robert. Tell him you have Pippa and you want to meet.”

“No.” Gazzago shakes his head. “They will kill my children. No. Absolutely no lying to them. They will know.”

Renzo starts to argue with him but I cut in. “He’s right, Renzo. The same way we know when he’s lying, they will probably know.”

Renzo stares at me, as he mulls this over. “Shit,” he says finally, and I know he’s come to the same conclusion. “We have to figure this out.” He takes the phone. “Get Rocco to see what he can pull off this.”

It’s my turn to shake my head. “It will be a burner phone. I’ve been on these people for months and they haven’t slipped up until now. They use their magick well. There’s no way this phone will lead anywhere.”

“Our choices are limited then,” Renzo says.

“Do what Gazzago asks?”

Renzo meets my gaze. We either choose to save Tommy’s kids or we say screw it and let the shit hit the fan.

As much as I know he hates the choices, I know he isn’t lying. Even though I want to kill this asshole, it won’t solve the issue of who the fuck hates me this much and why are they trying to destroy my life.

Renzo’s phone pinged with an incoming text message. He pulls it out of his pocket and frowns. “The auction is tonight. Ria has put our names on the guest list.”

I look at Gazzago. This sick asshole has put Pippa through hell, and I have no qualms about killing him for it. I don’t even really care about his kids. I’ve done far worse than let someone else figure out their own problems knowing it would result in their deaths. “What I can’t get around,” I say out loud, “is that this might be our only chance to find out who is behind all of this.”

Renzo rubs his face. “Fuck. I think you’re right. This is the only way. You and Pippa will go to the auction tonight. Mia and I will take Tommy and debrief him. There’s got to be some kind of clue to where his kids are. We’ll work that angle. Nico will go with you and Pippa as backup.”

“I don’t want Pippa anywhere near this,” I growl.

“Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice. She’s the only one who might remotely have a hope of knowing if the necklace is real or a fake.”

We’ll talk about this , I snarl at Renzo.

Gazzago gets to his feet. “You will get the necklace then? Save my children?”

I stare at the man who a few moments ago I was quite content to kill. “I guess it’s your lucky day, Tommy.”

“Let’s hope it’s yours,” Gazzago responds.

We start down the stairs when my phone buzzes in my pocket.

It’s a text from Rocco. Cops are here with a search warrant.

“Shit,” I say as I take the stairs two at a time. I fly out of the stairwell and into my loft, heading for my computers. I quickly start typing as I hear the elevator start to rise.

“What the hell?” Renzo says as he comes up behind me.

I don’t bother to respond. I hit the final few keystrokes and then turn off the screens. “The cops are here with a search warrant,” I say.

Renzo stares at me mouth open. This is a shock to both of us which isn’t good. It means that somehow none of our people infiltrating the department didn’t reach out to us.

“Is it real?” Renzo asks. “Or do you think it’s some kind of magickal shit.”

Before I can answer, the elevator comes to a stop and a group of men and women file out. Some are police, some are Carabinieri , and some have the letters FBI on their windbreakers.

I don’t need to reply to Renzo’s question. The new arrivals prove it’s real enough.

Son of a bitch .