Page 4 of Depths of Obsession (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #2)

CHAPTER 4

“ C an I get you anything else?” Suzanna’s voice drips with suggestion, her smile offering more than just drinks. A few hours ago, I might’ve taken her up on it. That had been the plan. But now? Now, I can’t summon any interest. Whatever spark had been there has fizzled out.

“I’m good,” I reply, taking the scotch off her tray.

She pouts, like she’s a little disappointed, but I don’t even look back as I head up the stairs to my office.

Damn Pippa. It’s why I have avoided her for so long. She is the one woman I desperately want but cannot have. Her tears damn near killed me. I hate crying but Pippa crying is painful on a whole other level. I cannot fathom why that woman has such a hold on me, but God help me, she does. The sound of her heart rate increasing at my touch mixed with her scent and those huge eyes, the merest touch of her hand would make me take her to bed. I know she wants me as much as I want her. I will not let anyone touch her. I made that promise and I will keep it. Anyone but me, that is, because before this is over, I know I’m going to touch Pippa in all kinds of ways and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

The club is packed tonight. Bodies writhe together on the dance floor, moving to the relentless pounding of the bass. A loud bark of laughter pierces the air, but it does nothing to ease my mood. Normally, I’d thrive off this energy, but tonight the edge I’m on is sharp and cutting. The noise, the chaos—it grates on my nerves. I take the stairs two at a time, needing to put distance between me and the madness below.

I walk down the hallway and push open the door to my office, closing it quickly behind me. The second the door clicks shut, silence reigns. For the first time all night, I feel a moment’s peace. Dealing with Gazzago and Pippa have added a layer of stress I did not need.

I slide behind my desk, sinking into the large leather chair that fits my ass perfectly, like it was made for me. I sip my scotch, hoping it will soften the emotions I can’t seem to control, though I doubt it will. Before I can even relax, the door opens, and Rocco Constantini steps in. His presence is impossible to ignore—my right-hand man, always looming.

“I saw you come in and pass up what Suzanna was offering,” he says with a raised brow, crossing the room with his usual swagger. “Not like you to turn down a chance to fuck a gorgeous woman.”

“Not in the mood,” I growl, swirling the scotch in my glass.

“Why is your shirt wet?”

I glance down. Pippa’s tears. I can still smell lavender from when I held her. “It’s a long story.”

Rocco chuckles, but it’s without humor. “It always is with you.” He walks over to the far wall and hits a button. The blackout screens lift, revealing a panoramic view of the club below. The music is muted, but the flashing lights and sea of bodies continue to pulse. “Since you’re already in a shitty mood, let me add to it,” he says, his voice flat.

I set my drink down, the irritation building. “You don’t want to do that.”

“I don’t have a choice,” Rocco says, turning away from the view of the club to face me, his expression serious. “There’s been another overdose. Singapore club this time.”

“Black Heart?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

Rocco nods. “That makes fifty-six ODs in the last three months, across all of your clubs.”

“Fucking hell.” I rub my face with both hands, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on me. Normally we have maybe two or three overdoses across all my clubs per year but recently, the number has skyrocketed. It’s outrageous. “Are we any closer to finding out who’s selling this shit?”

“No.” Rocco scrubs a hand down his face as he takes a seat across from me. He’s a solid presence, built like an ox—broad shoulders, well-muscled chest, and a scar slicing through one eyebrow which gives him a permanently pissed-off look. Tonight, he looks weary. He heaves a massive breath before he speaks. “I’ve tried everything. But we can’t seem to catch a break. The thing is; this isn’t happening anywhere else.”

“What do you mean?” I ask, narrowing my eyes. “I thought it was spreading?”

“It’s spreading, all right,” Rocco replies, leaning forward. “But only in Emerald Dagger clubs. It started at your club in Rome, spread to here, then Paris, Amsterdam, London, and now Singapore. None of the other club owners have seen Black Heart. Just heard rumors and whispers of some drug that gives an incredible high. No other clubs… hell, no other cities are being hit. Only your establishments. That’s why everyone’s here, packed into your clubs on a fucking Tuesday night. They all want a taste of Black Heart.”

I stare at him, trying to wrap my head around what he’s telling me. Rocco’s always had a handle on things, but this? This is beyond us. The realization that someone’s targeting me, using my own clubs to push this lethal drug—it makes my blood boil.

“So, no other clubs are dealing with these overdoses?” I ask, needing confirmation.

Rocco shakes his head. “Just us. And like I said, everyone out there thinks it’s something you created. They think you’re behind Black Heart, offering them some exclusive, insane high. People are stopping me to ask if I can hook them up.” He gestures toward the crowd below, where bodies are still moving, oblivious to the chaos we’re trying to contain.

“Fuck.” The word comes out heavier than it should be. This nightmare has been going on for months, and we’re no closer to an answer. “Do we know what Black Heart is yet?”

Rocco shakes his head again, frustration etched in every line of his face. “I can’t even get my hands on any. I suspect it’s some kind of NPS.”

“NPS?” I raise an eyebrow. “What the fuck is that?”

“New psychoactive substances,” Rocco explains. “They’re synthetic. Designed to mimic the effects of other drugs, but with enough chemical difference to skirt the law. It’s the only reason we’re not in deeper shit yet. If the cops could charge you with dealing, they would’ve by now. Everyone already thinks you’re selling it, so it doesn’t matter if you aren’t. Perception is everything.”

I stand and start to pace. “Do I need to go to Singapore?” Being a vampire lets me travel at amazing speeds as long as I do it at night, so the world doesn’t notice.

“No point. There’s nothing you can do there and it’s probably better if you keep your distance. Rumor is that Interpol is now getting involved since this is happening across so many countries. It’s been noticed that the overdoses only happen at your clubs. You’re going to have to keep a low profile.”

Just what I need. In my youth several hundred years ago, I loved to be the center of attention but now, low profile was all I did. “Can you get me the autopsy reports for all the overdoses?” I say, my voice low and dangerous. “I want to know what we’re dealing with. And I want to know who the fuck is targeting me. Then, I want to kill him.”

Rocco stands, ready to leave. “I’ll take care of it.” He hesitates, his jaw tightening. “I should offer you my resignation. I can’t seem to get a handle on this situation.”

“Fuck you,” I snap. “I don’t want your resignation. I want you to figure this shit out.”

Rocco meets my gaze, his expression dead serious. “Then you should know, I believe magick is involved.”

The words hang in the air between us, absurd yet undeniable. He’s finally put words to what I’ve known in my gut all along. Confirmation does not make me feel any better.

Rocco gives a small shrug. “That’s the only explanation for why I can’t catch anyone dealing this shit. They slip by me, seconds before I arrive. And when I ask for a description, it’s always the same. Tall, dark, and handsome. They think he’s related to you.”

I clench my fists. Rage burns inside me, making me want to tear down the stairs and rip apart everything in my path. “We need to figure this shit out, Rocco. Fast. Reach out to your contacts in the magick realm. See what you can find out. I’ll do the same.”

Rocco stands. “I’m on it. I’ll ask my family. My grandfather, in particular, might have some ideas.” He turns to go but turns back. “There’s definitely a whiff of magick behind this. I sense it whenever I get close.”

“I’m not surprised. It’s the only way really that we could be in the dark after three months of trying. And yes, please ask your grandfather. The man is a legend in the magick realm. The wisest of mages.”

Rocco nods. “He’s also a huge pain in my ass but you know how family is.” He shakes his head and relaxes onto one hip. “What’s got you bent out of shape tonight? You were pissed off before I told you the latest.”

I close my eyes and swear again. “Pippa Dominici’s got herself mixed up in some stupid shit. It’s a long story but it boils down to Tommy Gazzago thinks she owes him for a slight and he wants her as payment.”

Rocco frowns. “What do you mean, ‘he wants her as payment’?”

“I mean he wants her as his new bride.”

Rocco whistles. “That’s fucked up. No wonder you’re all screwed up.”

“You don’t know the half of it.” I gulp my scotch as Rocco heads to the door. “She cried tonight, Rocco. Cried.” I point to my shirt. “It was my undoing. I couldn’t breathe or think. I just wanted to kill Gazzago and Pippa’s boss, Marcello De Carlo. He got her into this mess. I almost—” I stop talking. Saying it wasn’t going to help matters.

“That’s bad.”

“No shit,” I snarl.

Rocco shakes his head. “I don’t have to remind you what the tarot reader at the engagement party said.”

“No, you don’t,” I snap. I rub my eyes with the heal of my palms. “Renzo wants me to take care of Pippa and make sure she’s safe.”

Rocco groans. “That’s gonna be brutal.”

“No going to be about it. It is brutal. She cried real tears. I can stomach a lot, but I can’t take tears, especially hers. I’ll give her anything she wants if she cries.”

“Maybe you should tell Renzo the truth. Tell him you and Pippa have some past life history and she’s likely to bring your world crashing down.”

I grind my teeth as I shake my head. “I made a promise to look after her and I will. I just…need to keep my distance. Getting too close to her is like getting too close to the sun. I’ll burn up in her atmosphere.” But at least I’ll die happy, I add silently. No need to share that thought.

“Whatever you think, boss.” Rocco reaches for the door handle.

“She’s at my place so send her some food, okay?”

Rocco’s eyebrows raise. “Will do, boss. You gonna be okay with her there?”

I grunt in response. “I won’t go home tonight.”

Rocco smiles. “So that’s a no. Let me know if you need anything.” Rocco opens the door, and the music slams into me for a second before the silence takes over once again. I stare at the scene below. All those humans. They have no fucking clue that they are just a means to an end for someone trying to punish me.

Three months ago, I had a dream. I’ve always had dreams—all of my family does. But this one was different. This was its own special kind of hell. I was surrounded by impenetrable darkness. I couldn’t see or hear anything, but I knew someone was out there. Someone was coming for me. They made several swipes with a blade of some sort, slicing the air next to me, making me flinch. Something was enjoying my fear, feeding off my growing dread. I woke up when they swung the blade and I saw it, just as it was about to hit me.

I get up and pour myself another scotch from my private bar in the corner. Retaking my seat, I let out a long breath. With everything that’s happened lately, mentioning the dream didn’t seem important. I had convinced myself it was just a dream, which was stupid. They’re never just dreams. Rocco’s confirmation that the overdoses are only happening in my clubs proves it. Someone is coming for me, and they are shrouded in darkness. Rocco is also not wrong that magick is involved. It has to be, which leaves me no choice.

Renzo? Nico? I reach out to my brothers, opening a telepathic channel.

Nico’s voice echoes around my skull. What do you need, brother?

Renzo? I reach out again.

He’s probably busy, Nico snickers. He’s married, after all .

What do you want? Renzo demands.

Not the most auspicious beginning, but I forge ahead. I’m having an issue at my clubs , I start. Renzo doesn’t love me owning and running this chain of nightclubs. He thinks they draw too much attention. Up until now I’ve managed to keep a low profile but with these overdoses, and Black Heart being in demand, my low profile days seem to be coming to an abrupt end.

Hold on , Renzo says, and then he disappears.

Nico sighs. What shall we talk about as we wait for his majesty? I heard about the Pippa problem. That’s just ugly. I knew we should’ve gotten rid of Gazzago when we cleaned house.

Agreed. Renzo says it’s too late now. He’s involved in some deal that he needs Gazzago to broker, but I just want to kill the guy. In the most painful way possible.

I don’t add those words. I don’t need any reminders that my fascination with Pippa is not helpful. She’s the closest thing to a sister Mia has, which means, even if the tarot reader hadn’t already warned me, she is off limits to me regardless. Mia and Renzo both are against Pippa or Luna, Mia’s other best friend, finding out that we’re vampires and that Mia is well…something magickal now. The less time spent around Pippa the better. Until now.

Fucking hell , Renzo growls as he rejoins the conversation. Mia just got off the phone with Pippa’s mother. Gazzago is demanding the wedding take place as soon as possible. The bastard has heard about the auction and realizes there’s no way he’s ever going to get the necklace, so he’s trying to save face, and he wants to do it quickly. Connie is pissed but her hands are tied. Danillo is just as anxious as Gazzago to get the deal done. He wants his piece of the pie back. He doesn’t like being retired.

No , I snarl. Pippa is not marrying that old, fat fuck. My mind flicks to another woman, girl really that was forced into a bad marriage long ago. I didn’t save Vittoria then. I would not let the same thing happen to Pippa.

I agree with Luca. It’s just not acceptable , Nico adds. Let us just kill Gazzago, and then the whole problem goes away.

We can’t take him out yet. I have a business deal I need him to facilitate.

Renzo’s anger and frustration slam into me. But he’s not the only one pissed off. That’s why he’s pushing this. He knows he has you over a barrel on this deal, so this is his moment to push. How important is this deal? Worth Pippa’s life?

It’s important. More so than I would like. It could make a big difference in a lot of ways.

It’s always business with Renzo. My anger hits against my brother in waves. I know he feels it. He damn well should.

You know, Nico starts, o nce the deal is finished, Gazzago’s gotta know we’ll just kill him which is why he wants to marry Pippa so much . He’s smarter than he looks. He knows that if he’s married to her, it’s much harder for us to take him out.

Harder? Why the fuck would it be harder? I demand. It would take me no more than a couple minutes to drain the old man’s blood, and I would enjoy feeling the life ebb out of him very much.

Nico sighs, and now I can feel his frustration, too. Because killing him is disrespecting the old guard. Danillo is still one of Mia’s father’s right-hand men. Renzo may be the head of the family, but he still has to appear respectful of the old guard; otherwise, he’ll always be the usurper who took over, and we don’t want a mutiny on our hands. Besides, if Danillo goes to work for Gazzago then killing the boss will start a shit storm within the family.

I growl I’m not letting Gazzago get his hands on Pippa. No fucking way . I’m squeezing the edge of my desk, and the wood starts to splinter. I pry my fingers off and try to relax.

As much as I hate the idea, and I don’t want to deal with Mia over it, I don’t see that we have a choice. The only other play is to get the necklace. Fifty million is a hefty price for something to give to Gazzago, and that’s only if we win the auction. It could go for double that, and we don’t even have an invite to attend.

I grind my teeth. Calaba will invite us if we say we want to go.

Nico chimes in, Luca’s right. Attending isn’t the problem, and neither is the price tag. Calaba is the problem. I don’t trust him one bit. There’s something hinky with this auction. Calaba wouldn’t bother with it unless it’s going to bring him something he wants”

“More money?” I suggest trying to keep my temper in check.

Nah. He’s got enough of that already.

Agreed , Renzo states. We can’t trust Calaba . Luca, you will have to take Pippa to the auction whenever Calaba holds it. She is the only one among us who knows about the necklace so she’s going to have to be there so we know he’s not trying to pull a deep fake or some other gambit. In the meantime, I’m waiting to hear back from Ria Tailor. I’m sure she can get us into the auction and give me details on it. I’ll also work on figuring out another way out of this.

Wait, before you go—Luca, you said there was a problem at the club? Nico says.

I quickly decide now isn’t the time. It’ll keep .

Great. Renzo is gone in a flash.

You sure? Nico asks.

Yeah. Nico fades out, and I’m left alone with my thoughts.

There’s got to be a way around Pippa marrying Gazzago.

The door opens, and Rocco strides in. “We got a problem.” I brace myself for his report. “Pippa isn’t at your place.”

“What?” I demand, standing up so fast the chair topples over. “What do you mean?”

Rocco shrugs. “I took her some food, but she wasn’t there. I checked the security camera, and they showed her getting into a rideshare car and disappearing. She’s not at her own place—I checked. Do you think she might have gone home to her parents’ place?”

“No way in hell. Fuck!” I reach for my phone and dial her number from memory, but she doesn’t answer. But I don’t know if it’s because she doesn’t want to or can’t. Nerves tingle under my skin as I bark out, “Call someone and get them to run the plate of the rideshare and see where it went. I’ll try tracing her phone.

“Okay. I’ll let you know what I find out,” Rocco says, then exits my office again.

I sit back down, my heart pounding. “Fucking hell, Pippa,” I snarl. I don’t have time for this kind of shit. There’s too much on the line. One wrong move and someone will wind up dead—and it sure as hell isn’t going to be Pippa. Not if I can help it.