Page 18 of Depths of Obsession
“Don’t forget to pack a dress and heels,” Luca calls from the other room.
I pause, frowning. “For what?” I cannot fathom what the hell I’d need to dress up for. There’s no way in hell I’m getting married.
“We’re going to the auction,” he replies, his voice steady. “You’re gonna have to be dressed up for that one.”
"But we don’t even know when that is?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Luca responds. “We’re going to have to be there.”
How long am I going to have to stay with Luca? I can’t even begin to think about that, heat running up my neck to my cheeks. I stand in front of my closet, staring at the rows of dresses. What does one wear to an illegal auction filled with the worst billionaire crooks? What outfit says I need that necklace because I’m not marrying that fat fuck Gazzago?
A slow smile spreads across my face as my eyes land on a deep green dress. It’s elegant, expensive, and screams don’t even fucking dream of touching me unless you’re worth a billion dollars. I look amazing in it. If Luca’s going to be a prick, fine. I’ll make it hard as hell for him to ignore me. Perfect. I grab a matching clutch and a pair of staggeringly high heels to go with it. I quickly head into the ensuite bathroom to grab my makeup and toiletries, throwing them in the bag with everything else before zipping it up.
I change into a pair of jeans and an off-the-shoulder sweater, pulling on socks and high-heeled boots. I grab my bag, giving my bed a longing look. All I want is to crawl under the covers and pretend this entire day never happened. Forget about the dead body lying in the storeroom. Marcello threatening me, Gazzago’s sudden appearance and the threat he presents. But there’s no going back, and that realization hits me harder than I’d expected.
“I’m ready,” I say as I walk back into the living room. The words barely leave my lips before there’s a knock at the door.
Luca’s demeanor changes instantly. His eyes darken, his jaw tightens, and he pulls a gun from somewhere beneath his shirt. My stomach clenches at the sight of it. I really am blind—I hadn’t even noticed he was carrying a weapon. He gestures for me to go into my room, and I back away to safety, my heart pounding as I peek out, watching.
He moves to the side of the door, his body tense, every muscle coiled. “Chi è?” he calls, his voice steady.
“Open up. Mr. Gazzago wants to talk to you,” a rough voice responds.
Gazzago. My heart stutters, and a cold sweat breaks out across my skin.He’s here. My hands shake, and I press them against my chest, trying to steady my breathing.
Luca’s jaw muscles pulse, but he opens the door, his expression one of cold fury. “We’re not interested in chatting right now,” he says, his voice dripping with disdain.
“Well, get interested.” Gazzago pushes his way past Luca. Beefy bodyguards follow close behind. He glares at Luca before his gaze shifts to the doorway where I’m cowering.
His eyes narrow in disgust. “You whore,” he snarls, his voice filled with venom.
Before I can even react, Luca has Gazzago against the wall, his forearm pressing into the old man’s throat. The room seems to explode with movement—Gazzago’s bodyguards hesitate, stunned for a moment before two of them draw their guns. The third punches Luca in the side, his fist connecting with Luca’s kidney.
Luca lets go of Gazzago, but not before slamming his fist into the guy who punched him. The man crumpled to the ground, out cold.
“Watch your fucking mouth, old man, or I’ll kill you right here,” Luca growls, his voice low and dangerous.
The apartment door opens again, and Rocco steps in, a gun in each hand, aiming at the remaining bodyguards. His eyes are cold, calculating, and I can see the tension in his stance.
“She gets out of your car wearing nothing but her underwear.Puttana,” Gazzago spits, his eyes locked on me, his words dripping with contempt.
Nausea rises in my throat. The idea that Gazzago might have seen me in my underwear knots my belly and makes my skin crawl. I want to take the hottest shower possible and scrub myself until my skin is raw.
Luca’s hands curl into tight fists, his knuckles turning white. He doesn’t move, his eyes locked on Gazzago. “Then I guess the wedding’s off. You don’t want to marry a whore.”
Gazzago shakes his head, his lips curling in a sneer. “She needs to fucking behave. I already spoke to Danillo. He agreed. She’s coming with me, and we’ll be married by my priest as soon as I can arrange it. Now, get out of the fucking way.”
Luca doesn’t move, his eyes dark and unyielding. “Pippa isn’t going anywhere with you.”
The tension in the room is suffocating, every muscle in my body coils, ready to take flight. Gazzago’s bodyguards look to him for direction, their guns still drawn, their eyes shifting nervously between Luca, Rocco, and me. My heart thuds and the adrenaline coursing through my veins blurs my vision.
“Luca,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I’m terrified, but I can’t let this escalate any further. If Luca makes one wrong move, it could mean all of our lives. I take a step forward, my hands trembling, and I force myself to speak again. “Please.”
Luca glances at me, and for a moment, I see something flicker in his eyes—something raw and vulnerable. He turns back to Gazzago, his expression hardening once more. “You’re not taking her,” he says, the menace in his tone is frigid.
Gazzago lets out a low, humorless laugh. “Do you really think you can stop me, Valdici? Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”
“I know exactly who I’m dealing with,” Luca replies, his voice deadly calm. He takes a step forward, his presence commanding, his eyes locked on Gazzago’s. “And I’m telling you, right now, that you will not take Pippa. Not tonight. Not ever.”
