Page 6 of Depths of Obsession (The Emerald Dagger Mafia #2)

CHAPTER 6

“ G et your things. We’re leaving before that asshole changes his mind,” I say between clenched teeth. I am barely hanging on to my anger. Gazzago is a sick fuck who needs to be taken out. I told Renzo that ages ago and now the man is causing me pain. I won’t put up with it. Not even a little bit.

“I’m ready.” Pippa’s quiet voice trembles.

I glance over at her, and my chest tightens at the sight. Her face is pale as alabaster, her eyes wide and haunted. But there’s a fierce determination on her face that wasn’t there before. She smells of lavender—sweet and soft—followed by the acrid stench of fear. Her fright curls around me and squeezes my heart in a vise-grip. It pisses me off more than I can say.

I never want Pippa to be afraid.

When she touched me earlier, I almost gave in. Almost . Her touch lit my skin on fire and the sound of her blood rushing through her veins was almost too much to bear. I struggle over the fact that I desperately want to hold her but know if I do, then I may not stop there. It damn near killed me earlier when I had my hands on her ass. Just a taste, that’s all I want.

Yeah, right . I know myself well enough to know that’s a steep, dark hill, once I start down it, there will be no coming back.

I signal to Rocco, who opens the door and starts down the hallway. The air feels thick, charged with tension. Gazzago could be lying in wait for us, and every fiber of my being is ready to fight. But I’m betting against it. I’m betting that instead, Gazzago is licking his wounds, calling Renzo to complain, then calling Pippa’s father to demand further restitution. He’ll say Danillo is disrespecting him, and he can’t let that stand. Danillo will crumble and agree. He always does. That man is spineless, especially when it comes to dealing with someone like Gazzago. Okay, spineless might not be the right word. He’s…old-fashioned. He will do what Gazzago asks because that’s how it used to be done, and because he wants the job Gazzago has dangled in front of him.

Why does he want it so much? Something worth looking into. It won’t even occur to Danillo to fight for his daughter. They’ll set the wedding to happen in the next few days, a week at the outside—just to appease that fat fuck..

Rage swells in my chest, a dark, consuming thing that threatens to drown out all rational thought as we step into the elevator. The doors slide shut, enclosing us in a small, quiet space, and the muscle in my jaw pops as I clench hard. I’ve been alive for closing in on four hundred years and now I’m supposed to put up with an asshole like Gazzago? No fucking way. I will not let him ruin Pippa’s life. Guilt and remorse float through my brain as I vow she will not end up like Vittoria.

I glance at her again, standing beside me, her arms wrapped tightly around her middle as if she’s trying to hold herself together. Her gaze is trained on the buttons on the elevator panel, but they’re vacant—she’s somewhere else entirely. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her, to pull her against me and promise that no one will ever hurt her. And I will, whether she likes it or not. Her heart is slowing in her chest as the adrenaline wears off. She’s cold and she’s angry. Rage is coming off her in waves. Well, that makes two of us.

The elevator ride lasts an eternity, and every second is another battle to keep my emotions in check. My rage isn’t what Pippa needs right now. She needs safety. Stability. Not the monster I’m barely managing to contain.

After a silent, tense, and lengthy drive, we arrive back at my apartment, and Rocco is already there, checking the cameras on the app on his phone, making sure my haven is secure. I keep my eyes on her, watching her every movement as we ride up in the freight elevator. She’s quiet, subdued even, and I miss the fire that usually burns so brightly in her. I hate seeing her in this state. I love it when she challenges me.

I also miss her being in her underwear, that confident, sassy edge that made me want to rip her clothes off right then and there. She looks incredible in her bra and thong, but it’s more than that. She looks incredible all the time. Her strength and resilience draw me in, and I know the moment she looks the most beautiful will be when she’s on top of me, riding me, her face flushed, her body trembling as I make her come. It’s a vision I’ve had far too many times, and I know it’s wrong—I know I’m not supposed to touch her. But my resolve is crumbling.

The elevator doors open, and I lead Pippa into my apartment. It’s dark, the only light coming from the city beyond the windows, casting long shadows across the sleek, modern furniture. Rocco moves ahead of us, checking the cameras again, making sure there’s no sign of anyone near us. I turn to Pippa, watching as she stands in the middle of the room, her eyes darting around, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

“Come on,” I say, my voice gruff. I’m so pissed off I’m finding it hard to control my anger. It’s seeping through. I lead her to the guest room, my footsteps crisp on the polished wood floors. “You can stay here tonight.”

She nods, her eyes downcast, and exhaustion is evident in her posture, the way her shoulders slump, her movements sluggish. She’s been through too much tonight, and it’s taking its toll.

“Get some sleep,” I say, lingering in the doorway, my hand resting on the frame. “We’ll figure this out in the morning.”

“Wait!” She looks up suddenly, confusion shading her face. “Before you told me to sleep on the sofa. Now you tell me you have a spare bedroom?”

I grin as I move to stand in front of her, my eyes locking onto hers as I run my fingers slowly down her neck. Her skin is warm and soft beneath my touch, and her pulse picks up under my fingertips. I feel powerful knowing I can affect her like this. This is the way it’s meant to be. “I didn’t want you to get too comfortable. Women tend to want to come up to my place and then never leave,” I say, my voice low, a hint of a challenge beneath the teasing words.

Her cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, and I feel a surge of satisfaction. I let my thumb rub over the tender spot at the base of her neck, her pulse quickening under the pressure. Her breath catches, and I swear her energy pulls me closer, a magnetic force between us. Just one taste. It would be so good. I can practically taste the tension in the air, thick and charged.

Pippa was made to be mine, and no one else’s. I know it, and I can feel it in every fiber of my being. I don’t care about some tarot card reader. So what if I knew Pippa from before, from a past life of hers. That had to be a helluva long time ago since I’m nearly four hundred. Do vampires even have past lives? I really don’t give a shit. I want to know her in this one in all kinds of ways. And if she brings my downfall? I have a feeling it will be worth it.

She’s looking up at me, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and the desire I see there mirrors my own. I bend down, my lips brushing her cheek, and I linger there, breathing her in. Her scent is intoxicating, it pulls me in deeper. Her skin is so soft, so inviting, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to turn my head just slightly and capture her lips. Just one taste.

What I want to do is pull her to me, hold her tight, and kiss her until neither of us can breathe, until we’re lost in each other. My hand slides down to rest on her waist, fingers pressing gently, feeling the curve of her torso beneath the fabric. The warmth of her body seeps into my hand, and it’s driving me insane. I want more. I want all of her. But if I start now, I know I won’t be able to stop. The hunger is too strong, and I’m barely holding it back.

Pippa looks up at me then, her eyes meeting mine, and there’s something there—something raw and vulnerable that makes my chest ache. I see the uncertainty, the desire, and it takes everything in me not to close the small gap between us. My heart pounds, my breath is shallow, and for a moment, the world narrows to just us, just this moment. The tension stretches, pulling us closer, and she leans in, just slightly, her lips parting in anticipation.

But I can’t. Not yet. I pull back, my thumb brushing one last time over her neck before letting go, a small smile playing on my lips. Her eyes widen, her breath catches, and confusion and frustration replace the longing I’d witnessed a second ago. Not yet, Pippa, but one day soon. I know I’m not supposed to have her, but I also know there’s nothing in this world that’s going to stop me. Our destiny is written in my blood.

“Good to know,” she says, her voice laced with defiance, her chin tilting slightly upward. “You don’t have to worry about that with me. I want to be gone as soon as possible.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, leaving a hollow ache in my chest. What did I expect? She’s miserable, trapped in a situation she never wanted, and I’m not her first choice of protector. Well, tough shit. She’s stuck with me, whether she likes it or not.

I clench my jaw, swallowing down the bitterness that wants to rise. “Get some sleep,” I growl, turning on my heel and stalking out of the room.

The living room is dark, lit only by the faint glow from the monitors. Rocco sits in front of them, his posture tense, eyes fixed on the screens. He glances up as I enter, his expression grim, and nods. “Everything’s clear for now,” he says, his voice barely rises above a whisper. “But we need to talk about what’s next.”

I nod, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to push back the exhaustion settling into my bones. I feel like I’ve aged a hundred years in the last few hours. “Yeah. I’ve got a plan,” I say, my voice tight. “But it’s going to mean Pippa stays close. Very close.”

Rocco raises an eyebrow, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “How close?”

“Gazzago is going to go to Danillo, and he’ll put pressure on Renzo,” I explain, my words clipped with frustration. “Renzo doesn’t want to fuck up his deal with the Afghans, and if Danillo pushes, Renzo might be forced to agree to move up the wedding. He needs Gazzago, and Gazzago knows it. Pippa needs to stay out of Gazzago’s reach. We might have to keep moving her around until the deal is done and by moving her, I mean around the world. We might have to hit different countries. Is your passport in order?”

Rocco stares at me, his mouth falling open slightly. “Are you fucking serious?”

I smile grimly, a bitter edge to the curve of my lips. “It’s the only way to stop Gazzago, short of getting that damn necklace. And honestly, I’m not feeling too optimistic about our chances on that front.”

“But flying her around?” Rocco’s eyebrows shoot up, his disbelief evident. “You think Gazzago will be that crazy to get her?”

“Yeah, I do.” I let out a long breath, the weight of the plan settling over me like a heavy shroud. “It wouldn’t be my first choice, but I’m not letting Gazzago have her. And Renzo—he’s too caught up in expanding his empire to see what it’s costing Pippa. I can’t let her down I will not sacrifice Pippa.” Not like I did with Vittoria, I add silently.

Rocco leans back in his chair, his gaze sharp. “You know what the tarot reader said. If you get with Pippa it may kill you. And seeing you two ablaze for each other… Luca, it’s only a matter of time.”

He’s not wrong but I cannot let Pippa be used by Gazzago and her father. I can’t. “I’m hard to kill, remember?”

Rocco stares at me. “What about the curse?”

The air hisses out of my lungs. I hadn’t forgotten about the curse exactly. More just put it to the back of my brain. “It’s not relevant.”

“Not relevant? Bullshit. Nothing that is created in the magickal realm is ever ‘not relevant.’ You know you have to be careful. You can’t just spend a lot of time with a woman.”

I glare at him. “I’m aware. But it says marriage, not spend time with. All three of us have to be married for the curse to even begin to come true.”

Rocco cocks an eyebrow. “What exactly does the curse say? I’ve only ever heard rumors.”

I sigh. We’ve never talked about the curse before, but I’m not surprised he knows about it. It’s quite famous in the magickal realm and with Rocco and his family being strong mages, they would know. “I just found out the full wording myself not too long ago. It says when the sons three marry and the moon is red, the sisters three will bring about the dead, and the clan of Valdici will be no more.”

Rocco’s eyebrows go up. “Do you have any clue who the three sisters might be? Or do you know anything about a red moon?”

I shake my head. “We’ve never been able to figure any of it out. Of course, my father probably knows more than he’s saying. I’ve never bothered to look into it. Renzo is the one who told me the exact wording. I wouldn’t be surprised if Nico knows more about it than he’s saying. As the youngest, I’ve always left it up to them to figure out.” I shrug. “So, I can’t get married but even if I do get married some day, Nico is still single. He will just have to stay that way.”

Rocco asks, “Why do you care so much? I know you want her—hell, everyone knows that—but this is risky for all kinds of reasons. It seems extreme for someone you’re just lusting over. Someone foretold to bring you down. No one in the magick realm would ever fuck around with fate like you’re doing now.”

I blow out a long breath and sink into the chair next to him. Rocco and I have been friends for about ten years. We met in a bar fight, and we’ve had each other’s backs ever since. He’s a good guy—an excellent mage when he wants to be—but I’ve never shared much of my past with him. The past is the past, or so I tell myself.

But Rocco isn’t wrong—this is extreme, even for me.

“A long time ago, I made a very big mistake and someone who was very important to me, a young girl named Vittoria who needed my help, died. I can’t make that same mistake again.”

“Shit,” Rocco grunts, his voice filled with genuine sorrow. “I’m sorry, Luca.”

“Yeah.” I stare at the monitors, not really seeing them. “I made a promise to myself then. I wouldn’t let anyone else I care about die because I didn’t help them when I could have. I won’t let that happen to Pippa. Renzo doesn’t see it but marrying Gazzago will destroy her. She’ll never be the same.”

Rocco nods slowly, his gaze distant. “So, we either get the necklace, or you go on the run with Pippa for as long as it takes.”

“That about sums it up,” I say, my voice rough. The truth is I’m not sure which one I want to happen more.

He glances toward the hallway leading to the bedroom, then back to me. “What does Pippa think of all this?” Rocco asks, eyeing me with sharp curiosity.

I rub my chin, the stubble scratching under my fingers. “I haven’t told her. And I’m not planning to. She’s too stubborn, too rebellious. If I give her a choice, she’ll fight it just because it’s coming from me.”

Rocco shakes his head, a half-smile tugging at his lips. “You’re a glutton for punishment, you know that? Always have to take the hard road.”

I shrug, but his words hit a nerve. He’s right—I should give Pippa the option. That would be the sane, responsible thing to do. But my gut churns at the thought. If she gets upset, runs, or does something stupid, it’ll be harder for me to protect her. Gazzago will pounce on any wrong move. At least, that’s what I tell myself.

The truth?

I’m afraid. Afraid she’ll say no. Afraid of the rejection. Afraid that I’m just a monster in her eyes. Little does she know, she’s right. I am a monster.

Rocco stands, slapping a hand on my shoulder. “I’m heading back to the club. Let me know if you need anything.”

I nod, my mind already shifting to the next step. “Actually, can you check in with your brothers? The rest of your family? See if they know anything about the Queen’s Heart?”

Rocco frowns, his brow furrowing. “You think it’s connected to magick?”

“I think there’s a possibility,” I say. “It’s worth checking. I want to know what we’re dealing with before diving too deep.”

“Got it. I’ll ask around.” Rocco gives me a nod and heads to the elevator. The door slides shut behind him, and the hum of its descent fades into silence.

I slouch in the chair, staring at the monitors, the glowing screens blurring before my eyes. I love Renzo, but he has tunnel vision. He’s so focused on expanding his empire, on making this deal with the Afghans work, that he can’t see the collateral damage. Gazzago’s leverage over him is a weakness, one that Renzo can’t afford. There’s more going on here—something bigger, something that doesn’t sit right with me.

I glance at the skyline lying beyond my windows. Dawn is approaching, the sky is beginning to lighten in the east. I fed yesterday morning, but with everything happening, it might be smart to top up. Since we don’t know anything about the auction and when it might be, I need to be ready for anything. I can’t afford to lose control.

I make my way to the warehouse’s basement, the cold air hitting me like a slap. I open the hidden fridge and pull out a bag of blood, tearing it open and drinking deeply. The taste is metallic, familiar, and it fills me with a sense of calm and renewal that I desperately need. I finish quickly, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand before putting the rest back in the fridge.

As I close the door, a thought hits me. The deal Renzo is making with the Afghans—what if it’s not just about heroin? What if it’s about the blood trade? We’ve been searching for a new source for a while now. The U.S. and Western Europe are unreliable, the competition fierce. If Renzo’s found a new source in the East, it would explain his tolerance for Gazzago’s behavior. Heroin alone wouldn’t be enough to justify it, but a new supply of blood? That would be worth the risk.

I climb the stairs, my mind racing. But if Gazzago knew about the blood trade, he’d use it against us. He’d tell the world, rally them to burn us out. No, he doesn’t know . He thinks he’s dealing with men, not monsters.

Renzo , I nudge him telepathically. Renzo?

What? His frustration with me is evident.

The Afghan deal. It’s about the blood trade, yes?

Yes.

Does Gazzago know about it? I ask.

No. He thinks it’s just heroin, but the Afghans only came to the table because he vouched for us and his contacts will get the shipments out of Afghanistan and into our hands.

I frown. How does Gazzago have connections in Afghanistan?

Renzo’s impatience oozes across our connection. He knows people in the region from when his son was in the American military. His wife was American. The son made all kinds of connections over there. He did swift business for quite a while and then when the Americans left then the business dried up. Apparently, the Afghan warlords have been looking to reestablish contact over the last while. Gazzago arranged the meeting. I recognized one of the men as magickal. We had a side conversation, and he says he has access to a solid blood supply. If this deal comes off, it would mean we don’t have to be at the mercy of the trade in Europe or North America. It’s freedom.

Fuck. That does put a different spin on things.

Yeah. I know this is an untenable situation with Pippa, but we need this deal. We need the freedom that this blood source could bring us. By the way, I heard from Ria. She is going to the auction and will get us on the list. She doesn’t know when it is yet, but she says the art world is buzzing. All the big names will be there.

I want to break something. Great. Just fucking terrific. More competition for this damn necklace.

I’ve gotta go but I’m sorry, brother. Our family comes first. You can kill Gazzago as soon as the deal is done.

I say nothing. Gazzago won’t wait that long and I won’t let Pippa be sacrificed.