Page 25 of Depths of Obsession
“Luca,” she said, her voice almost pleading, “just let it go. It’s over and done with. It happened a while ago, and I just don’t need the hassle.”
I moved closer, my eyes never leaving hers. “Pippa, remember when I said you wouldn’t like the consequences? This is one of the things I meant.” I cupped her cheek gently, my thumb brushing over her skin. “You are mine now. I will keep you safe, but I will also kill anyone who hurts you. You do not have a say in this, and you will obey me.” I leaned in, my voice a whisper against her ear. “Tell me his name.”
Her eyes searched mine, a mixture of fear, vulnerability, and something else—something raw and undefinable—flickering in their depths. She bit her lip again, and for a moment, I thought she might argue, but instead, she nodded slightly, her resistance crumbling.
“His name is Matteo,” she whispered, her voice trembling as she gave in, the weight of her past finally coming to light.
A dark smile tugged at my lips. “Thank you, little one. I promise you, he will regret ever touching you.”
Pippa's eyes filled with uncertainty, but there was also a glimmer of relief—like the burden she'd been carrying for so long had finally been lifted. She leaned into my touch, her body relaxing slightly, and for this moment, she is mine to protect, mine to cherish. Matteo doesn’t know it yet but his days on this earth are numbered.
CHAPTER 8
Iwake up slowly, blinking at the unfamiliar dark gray walls that loom around me. For a disorienting moment, I don’t remember where I am. The slate-colored room and the heavy velvet drapes create an almost oppressive stillness. Then it hits me—yesterday. Fear and dread settle in my chest as their icy fingers clutch at my heart. The dead body and then failed sex with Luca. The realization of just how deeply horrible everything is makes my chest tighten. Anxiety crowds out humiliation and fright.
Be careful what you wish for… I always wanted Luca, but last night was yet another embarrassing encounter. He seemed to lose interest in having sex with me after I told him what happened. Damaged goods, I guess. I thought nothing could make me feel worse, but boy was I wrong. My cheeks burn with mortification. My life is shit.
I glance around. I am like a princess in a gilded cage. The bed I’m in is too big, the mattress softer than I’m used to, the sheets so silky that they feel foreign against my skin. Everything here whispers money. The heavy cream-colored drapes across the window, allowing only a thin strip of morning light to slip in, cutting across the black and silver rug that feels too soft beneath my bare feet when I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Everything seems perfect on the surface, but it’s all fucked up underneath.
I press my palms against my eyes, trying to block out the memory of Edoardo’s body, the rush of adrenaline and the sheer terror. I don’t want to think about it, but it’s impossible to escape, the edges of the memory always there, pressing in.
I let out a slow breath, my eyes catching the armchair by the window. Deep mahogany leather, creased just enough to suggest it’s been used—probably by Luca. He’d gotten a call and left after our aborted encounter. I’d heard him moving around after that, but he hadn’t come back in. Probably for the best. I’m not ready to face him yet. Luca’s presence is... overwhelming. One minute he’s my savior and the next he’s angry with me, putting me in my place. He’s flirting and then pushing me away. The way he’d held me and told me he would keep me safe and then threw me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, like I’m just something he’s saddled with for the time being. I feel like I have whiplash. Everything with him is black and white but I am all shades of grey.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I breathe in and out, trying to steady myself. No damn good. I may never be steady again. My hands drop to my sides, but my fingers brush the velvet drapes. I grip the edge and part weighty fabric to look out at the city beyond. Milano. It has been home for months, but it doesn’t feel like it anymore. I’m done with this city. I need to escape. As safe as Luca makes me…mademe feel, now I just feel embarrassed. I want this all to be over. I need to start somewhere new. A clean slate. I should gather my things and go.
Thinking back to Gazzago showing up at my place, the reality of the situation dawns on me. I can’t go back there again. Not without a ton of protection. Gazzago backed down once, but I know he won’t do it again. That means I need to make other arrangements. I only have clothing for a couple of days, and it’s a stark reminder of how unsettled my life has become. A chill runs through me, and I pull my arms tighter around myself.
I flash back to Luca standing up to Gazzago. My heart clenches at the thought. If anything had happened to him while he was protecting me, I wouldn’t forgive myself. It was one thing for some foot soldier who was paid well for his time, but Luca isn’t being paid. He’s looking after me because Mia asked and because Renzo told him to. There’s a warmth to that knowledge, but it’s tinged with guilt. He doesn’t owe me anything, yet he’s here, putting himself in danger for my sake.
Or he was. Now, God only knows what he thinks of me. Definitely time to go. I don’t want him to be saddled with me anymore.
My cell phone goes off, and I glance at the screen. It’s my mother. I want to continue to ignore her, but I know I’ll have to deal with her sometime. At least if I talk to her now, I’m alone. I don’t want to have this conversation in front of Luca.
“Mama,” I say as I answer the video call.
“Phillippa!” My mother always uses my full name when she’s annoyed at me. Her voice goes up several octaves as she yells at me in rapid-fire Italian. I only catch a fraction of what she’s saying, but it’s not hard to get the gist. Tension is obvious in her face; her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes sharp with worry.
“Mama,” I finally cut in. “You don’t know the whole story. The fact that you just assume what you’ve been told is the truth without even bothering to check with me is hurtful and wrong. I did not have anything to do with Edoardo Gazzago’s death. Marcello, my boss, did that. He had a dispute with the man. I merely went to check for a pulse and slipped in his blood. That’s how I got it all over my clothes.”
“But Phillippa, your father, he said that you helped Marcello. That you knew all about some deal he had with Edoardo. That you had been doing all kinds of deals at the gallery.”
“No, Mama.” I shake my head. “Lies, all of it. I was just a bystander. Edoardo cheated Marcello and paid for it with his life. I had no involvement.”
My mother lets out a small sob, her face crumpling. “Then why is Gazzago demanding we let him marry you?”
“Because he was ripped off by Edoardo too, and he wants to save face. We don’t owe him anything, Mama. I will not marry him.”
“Your father says we do owe him. He will be a good match for you,cara. You don’t have many suitors since your father is no longer a capo. He says this will set you up for a good life.”
I choke back a sob, my throat tight with the effort. “I don’t want to be set up for a ‘good life.’ I want my own life. I will not marry Gazzago. We don’t owe him anything.”
“Your father says our family name is being dragged through the mud. You have to marry Gazzago.”
“Did Papa also tell you that Gazzago offered him a job as his capo? Did he mention that?”
My mother breathes out, her voice trembling. “Dio mio. He didn’t mention that. Are you sure? Maybe you misunderstand.”
“I don’t misunderstand, Mama. Papa is selling me for a position with Gazzago.”
