Page 69 of Depths of Obsession
“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—theyassumedit 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.”
