Page 22 of Depths of Obsession (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #2)

CHAPTER 22

“ H ow did you get that scar on your head?” Mia asks as we sit on the plush sofa in my suite at the Four Seasons, in the heart of Milano. The suite is lavish, with heavy mahogany furniture, a chandelier that sparkles above, and floor-to-ceiling windows that let in the golden hues of the setting sun. Mia insisted we get the best suite available, reasoning that if proper honeymoon wasn’t possible right now, this was the next best thing.

“Scar?” I touch my forehead instinctively. “You can see that? I thought it was gone.” I had forgotten about it entirely.

“It’s very faint, but it’s new,” Mia points out, her brows drawing together.

I sigh, settling deeper into the sofa cushions. “I got it when that guy—the one who looks like Luca—took me and Luna hostage in the car.”

Mia’s eyes widen in shock. “What? Hold on. When did this happen? What happened? I can’t believe you didn’t tell me about it. I’ll kill Renzo for not telling me.”

I laugh, a bit shakily. “Yeah, well, a lot has been going on.” I take a deep breath, then proceed to tell her everything that happened. The words come out in a rush, each memory sharp, the fear still making my heart race. “It was so fucking scary. God bless Rafe and Tony for teaching us what to do.” My voice trembles, and I reach for Mia's arm, squeezing it for comfort. “I’m so sorry about them. What my father did…” My voice breaks on the tears welling in my eyes.

Mia gives me a small, reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.” She pauses, her eyes softening. “And I feel I owe you an apology about the whole vampire thing. I wanted to tell you, but it’s not something I could just blurt out. Now that you know about the magick realm—and that’s magick with a k—and all the creatures that exist, it’s such a relief. I’ve been dying to talk about it with you.”

I blink, overwhelmed with a mix of emotions. “Honestly, I’m glad you didn’t just tell me. I wouldn’t have believed you,” I admit, shaking my head. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it all. Vampires… It’s just so “Twilight Zone”.”

Mia lets out a laugh, her eyes lighting up. “I know, right? And witches, too. Oh, and demons.”

“Demons?” I squeak, my eyes widening. “Shit, are you serious? That’s unbelievable. Have you been to the magick realm?”

Mia shakes her head. “Not yet. Renzo says he’ll take me there at some point. Apparently, since I’m not exactly human anymore?—”

“What did you just say?” I stare at her, my mouth hanging open.

Mia swallows, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Okay… well, I’m still human, but… I’ve changed.”

“Changed?” I echo, my voice rising in panic. “Changed how? Is it because you’re sleeping with Renzo? Does screwing a vampire turn you into something else? Holy shit, I hadn’t even thought of that!” My mind spins, trying to make sense of this new information.

Laughter peals out of Mia, her shoulders shaking as she gasps for air. I stare at her, and soon I find myself laughing too—hysteria fueled by days of pent-up fear, tension, and sheer disbelief. Finally, we wipe the tears from our eyes.

“It’s not really funny,” I say, struggling to catch my breath. “It’s just that the tension has been so much for so long, I need to let it out.”

“I get it,” Mia says, her eyes soft with understanding. She reaches over to squeeze my hand. “But, to answer your question…sleeping with a vampire doesn’t change you into something else. There was… an incident.”

“Okay, hold that thought,” I say, jumping up and heading to the bar area. I open the wine fridge, pulling out a bottle of champagne. “We’re going to celebrate my marriage to a hot vampire, and you are going to tell me everything.” I release the cork with a satisfying pop and pour two glasses.

“Cheers,” I say, handing Mia her glass.

“To you and Luca. May you be as happy as Renzo and I are.”

I grin, clinking my glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”

Just then, the electronic lock clicks open. My head swivels toward the door, and I see Renzo entering the suite, his face serious. He strides across the marble-tiled foyer into the living room.

I look behind him, expecting Luca. “Where’s Luca?” I ask, my voice tinged with concern.

Renzo exchanges a glance with Mia, then turns to me.

My heart pounds, a sudden sense of dread rising in my chest. “What? What is it?” I manage to say.

Renzo sighs, his shoulders heavy. “Luca’s been arrested.”

The room tilts, the edges blurring. I lose my balance, collapsing onto the sofa, spilling champagne on my wedding dress. I barely notice. “Tell me,” I whisper, my voice cracking.

Renzo runs a hand through his hair, looking tired. “I don’t know if Luca shared this with you, but there have been overdoses at his clubs. Someone is selling a drug called Black Heart, and people are dying. It looks like someone’s targeting him specifically. There’s a man who looks like Luca—he’s the one selling it.”

“Not exactly like him,” I mutter, my throat tightening. “More like a reasonable facsimile.”

Renzo frowns, his gaze sharpening. “You’ve seen him?”

“Mia can fill you in later. Just… tell me about Luca. Is he going to have to stay in jail? Can you get him out?” My hands are trembling, my voice barely a whisper.

Renzo takes my glass and Mia’s, and refills them. He pours himself a scotch before settling into an armchair. “We’ve got people working on it. I’m hoping we can keep him out of jail. The arrest was more symbolic, a show of force. Rocco’s working on getting footage of the guy who looks like Luca—his name’s Robert.” He pronounced it with a French accent, dropping the T.

I try to process Renzo’s words, but everything feels overwhelming. “How do you know his name?” I ask.

Renzo leans forward, eyes serious. He recounts what happened on the rooftop, how Gazzago had been forced to admit the truth under pressure.

“So, you’re telling me Gazzago never really wanted to marry me? He just wanted me for this Robert person, whoever he’s working with, to get to Luca?” I ask, my voice wavering.

Renzo nods. “That’s it in a nutshell. They also seem to want the necklace very badly. Not sure why.”

“We had all the pieces,” I say, frustration bubbling inside me, “but we just didn’t put them together.”

Mia tilts her head, looking puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“The necklace,” I explain. “It’s called the Queen’s Heart, but it’s also nicknamed the Heart of Darkness. Black Heart—the drug Robert’s selling. If we’d all just sat down and shared everything, we might have figured it out sooner. When Robert held me hostage?—”

“He held you hostage?” Renzo growls, his expression darkening.

“It’s a long story,” I reply, shrugging it off. “He went through the windshield, and Luna and I thought he was dead. But then he sat up—his face was different, all cut up. His leg was broken, hanging at an unnatural angle, but he got up. By the time he reached the corner, he was healed. It was… weird. I knew right then he wasn’t human. I didn’t tell Luna, but I knew he was a magickal creature.”

Renzo looks at me, concern softening his usually stoic features. “Not a vampire?” he asks.

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Though why I know that…” I pause to try to puzzle out my certainty. I shake my head. “I couldn’t tell you.” I empty my champagne glass and hold it out to Renzo.

“I think you’ve had enough,” he says gently. “I’m guessing you haven’t eaten today, have you?”

I shake my head, feeling the hollow emptiness gnawing at me.

“Right. We need to get you fed,” Renzo continues. “The auction’s tonight, and we need you to go. We need the necklace, not only to help get Tommy Gazzago’s kids back but also to find out who’s behind all this.”

My shoulders slump, fatigue and worry overtaking me. “Will Luca be at the auction with me?”

Renzo shrugs, his face a mask of uncertainty. “I don’t know. We’re trying to get him out, but there are no guarantees. Nico will take you, though. Mia and I will stay here to debrief Gazzago, see if we can get anything else useful out of him.”

I look down at the pretty white dress I’m wearing, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. “This is not how I thought my wedding day would be.”

Renzo sighs. “The good news is, now that we know Gazzago wanted you for Robert, you don’t have to stay married to Luca. You could get an annulment, go back to your life.”

His words hit like a sledgehammer to my chest, stealing my breath. I sober instantly, my hands going cold. Is that what Luca wants? Was this just about saving me? My stomach twists. “I, um, I have a sudden headache. I think I need to lie down for a bit.”

Mia studies me, concern etched on her brow, but she doesn’t press. Renzo glances at his watch. “The auction’s at a charity event. Doors open at seven, but the auction itself is later. It’s four now, so you have time. Be ready by seven fifteen—Nico will pick you up. As long as you’re there by eight, it should be fine.”

“Okay,” I say, reaching out for the back of my chair as my legs wobble. I start toward the bedroom, then turn around. “I don’t have any clothes here, and this isn’t really… appropriate for the event.”

Mia rises. “I can get something for you.”

I hesitate. “I already picked out something—it’s in the closet in the spare room at Luca’s. I can just go there and get ready.”

“You can’t,” Renzo interjects. “The cops are still there. It might be a while before you can go back. I’ll have Nico drop off your stuff here and then take you to the event.”

“Oh. Okay.” I hesitate. “Are you sure I need to go?”

Renzo’s glance is filled with pity. “I know you’d rather be with your mother in Switzerland, now that it’s safe. But I need to ask you for this one last thing. You’re the only one of us who stands a chance of spotting a fake if it’s not the real necklace. Art isn’t really my thing. Luca’s the most knowledgeable in our family.”

He sighs, then stands. “Anyway, Mia and I need to deal with Gazzago. Rest, and then go to the auction. After tonight, you can head to Switzerland. I’m sure you can’t wait.”

“Um… sure.” I nod as they leave, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can’t wait.”

The interrogation room they’ve stuck me in has dull gray walls, the air cold and sterile. There’s a small table in the center of the room with three uncomfortable metal chairs. A fluorescent light flickers overhead, giving the room an eerie, sickly glow. I sit across from Agent DeSoto of the FBI and a Carabinieri officer, Vincenzo Droppo, the two of them staring at me with distrust.

“How do you explain all of the overdoses happening exclusively at your clubs?” Agent DeSoto asks.

I grit my teeth, fighting to keep my temper in check. This is at least the tenth time he’s asked me this. “As I’ve said countless times before, I can’t explain it. I have no idea what’s going on. Someone is obviously trying to frame me.” My excuse sounds flimsy, but it’s the truth. The agent and the Carabinieri officer exchange skeptical glances.

“Signore Valdici,” Droppo begins, switching to Italian. “ Ho interrogato tuo fratello l’ultima volta. Ha detto che non è stato lui ad uccidere quell’uomo. Sembra che qualcuno ce l’abbia con la tua famiglia, no?”

I suppress the urge to lash out, instead forcing a tight smile. I reply in English, just to piss him off, even though that’s an asinine strategy. “Yes, I remember that you questioned my brother. He was innocent of that crime, just as I am innocent of this one. And you’re right—someone does seem to have it out for my family.” I glance at DeSoto, who seems to be struggling to follow the Italian. This will go faster if I stick to one language.

“Gentlemen,” my lawyer, Federico De Luca interjects, his voice smooth and commanding. “Mr. Valdici has been more than patient in answering your questions. I think we can all agree this arrest was premature. You have nothing of substantive value.”

“Nothing?” DeSoto exclaims, his face growing red. “We have him at the clubs when the overdoses took place. Witnesses said it was him selling the drugs. I’d hardly call that nothing.”

My lawyer rests a hand on my arm—a small but important gesture. He’s a vampire, and he knows what’s happening beneath my calm exterior. My fangs are lengthening, and all I want to do is leap across the table and tear out DeSoto’s throat. “You have Mr. Valdici near some of the clubs during the overdoses, but not all. And those witnesses never actually met Mr. Valdici—they assumed it was him. But as we’ve made abundantly clear,” he gestures to the photograph of Robert on the table, “this man has been impersonating Mr. Valdici selling the drugs. We’ve also provided footage from Emerald Dagger in Milano that clearly shows Mr. Valdici in his office while the supposed sale of Black Heart occurred on the dance floor.”

The Carabinieri officer leans back, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “So, you aren’t responsible for these drugs?”

“Absolutely not.” My voice is filled with barely controlled frustration. I need to get out of here and back to Pippa. I need to make sure she’s okay. I also want to spend my wedding night with my wife.

“I heard you got married today,”Droppo says, almost conversationally. “The same thing happened to your brother. Arrested on his wedding day. Quite the coincidence.”

“Almost like someone has it out for us,” I snap. “You’re making my point for me. I am not responsible for this. I wasn’t even in New York when the overdoses happened. I was in my office when the sale went down. I don’t know anything about this man.” I jab my finger at Robert’s picture. “And now, I’d like to go home to my wife.” I stand up, pushing the chair back.

“Sit down!” DeSoto shouts, but before he can say anything else, the door opens, and a man in a tailored suit walks in.

Amadeo Tribiani. I recognize him instantly, and it takes all of my willpower not to smile.

“Luca,” Amadeo says, his voice warm as he walks in. “I hear congratulations are in order.” He extends his hand, and I take it.

“Thank you, Amadeo. I appreciate it. It was a quick wedding, but we’re planning a much larger celebration this summer. I expect you and Antonia to be there.”

Amadeo smiles. “We’d be delighted.”

Amadeo turns to the Carabinieri officer, his expression hardening. “ Che diavolo pensavi di fare arrestandolo? Rilascialo. ”

This time, I let the smile come through. “ Grazie , Amadeo.”

“I apologize for the inconvenience, Luca. Go find your wife.”

I shake Amadeo’s hand again as DeSoto shoots to his feet. “What? We need to question him further! He’s part of one of the most powerful mafia families in Italy, and you’re just going to let him walk out the door?”

Amadeo’s gaze slides over to DeSoto, unruffled. “ Si .”

I allow myself a grin, then turn and walk out the door. I can’t wait to get home to Pippa—my wife.