Page 75 of Depths of Obsession
As much as I want to tear Calaba apart for touching her, Nico’s right—it would only create more problems. He’s well connected, and his security is tight. I scan the piazza, and my eyes catch what Nico means. Men are stationed at various points—dressed in tourist clothes or posing as street vendors, but unmistakable to those of us who know what to look for. Calaba has surrounded the place with security, his extra muscle blending into the crowd. I also notice more cameras set up around the Duomo. He planned for this. He always planned on using the Duomo.
“Shit,” Rocco growls in my ear. “I can’t hack into the cameras inside the Duomo. Not enough time, and they’ve boosted security protocols. I’m flying blind here.”
Calaba and Pippa reach the doors, and my heart feels like it’s being squeezed. Pippa glances back over her shoulder, her eyes searching. I know she’s looking for me. Rocco’s right about her emotions; I can see the fear in her face. My stomach plummets, and it takes every ounce of willpower I have not to break into a run.
“Don’t do it,” Nico says quietly beside me, sensing my turmoil. “It’ll draw attention to us—and to how important she is to the Valdici family. Most people don’t know about your marriage yet. If they know how much she means to you, it’ll only make her a bigger target.”
The fact that he’s right doesn’t make it easier. “What the hell does Calaba want with her?” I hiss.
Nico shrugs. “Maybe she knows him from the gallery?”
“She does, but De Carlo wouldn’t let her deal with Calaba. He’s too much of a big fish.” We approach the Duomo’s wide steps, my heart thundering in my ears. “Rocco, got anything?”
“No, boss. Nothing I can do electronically. I’m going to use my powers. Keep your earbud in—I’ll update you.”
We’re almost at the doors when three men emerge from the shadows, blocking our way. “Invitation,” one of them demands, holding out his hand.
I pull the invitation from my pocket and hand it over. He nods and starts a body search—his hands patting me down, making sure I’m not armed. My entire being tenses with fury, and it takes everything in me not to snap his neck. But I stand still, ignoring the insult. Beside me, Nico is being patted down as well and radiating anger to match mine. His jaw is clenched, but he stays silent.
Finally, the third man opens the door, and we step inside the Duomo. The enormous cathedral is dimly lit, the soaring arches casting elongated shadows. The intricate marble floor is hard and unyielding under my feet, the grandeur of the place swallowed by my creeping anxiety.
I cast my senses out, trying to locate Pippa. There’s a trace of her perfume—lavender—but it's faint. The large space swallows her presence. Where has Calaba taken her?
“She’s on the roof,” Rocco says suddenly. “He’s showing her the view. It’s part of a tour—something for the tourists.”
I spot a sign indicating the way to the roof. I take a step toward it, but Nico grips my arm. “Don’t. It won’t help,” he says, his voice steady.
“I can’t leave her up there alone with him,” I growl.
Nico nods toward the doorway leading to the roof. Two guards step out, positioning themselves on either side of the door. “You won’t get past them without making a scene. We can’t afford that if you want to find out who’s behind all this.”
“I’m more worried about Pippa,” I say, my voice coming out in a snarl.
Rocco cuts in via our earbuds. “She’s okay for now. Looks like Calaba might be holding the auction up there. He’s altered the roof line. There’s a flat section now instead of the whole thing being sloped. They’re setting up chairs, a bar—servers are bringing out drinks. Hell, there are mink stoles for anyone who gets cold.”
“Shit,” Nico mutters.
“No, this is good,” I say, forcing myself to think rationally. “If the auction’s up there, then Rocco can monitor it. We aren’t totally blind. Rocco, keep an eye on Pippa. If anything happens, if she looks like she’s in trouble?—”
“I’ve got it, boss. I called a couple of my brothers. They’ll be here in ten, setting up in the buildings around the piazza. We’ll have your back with a little magick if needed.”
“Thanks,” I say, appreciating his foresight.He’s a good friend.
He’s a better mage, Nico adds.
I’m still uneasy, but knowing we have eyes on her helps. The hairs on my arms prickle as a burst of laughter echoes through the cathedral.
We turn and see Marcello De Carlo enter the Duomo, a silver-haired woman on his arm, her laughter echoing against the cathedral’s stone walls. She’s impeccably dressed—an elegance not often seen today.
“Ria Tailor,” Nico supplies. “Renzo knows her. I haven’t met her.” Behind them, two men in tuxes enter, exuding the air of the elite. “Alfred and Peter Krinst.”
I nod. “Alfred’s the art lover, but Peter’s wife, Danielle, is into jewelry. He’s probably here to bid on her behalf.”
“You think he hates his wife, or he just doesn’t know the necklace’s history?” Nico asks.
“Probably the first. Danielle married him before he got rich—no prenup. If she gets cursed and dies, he’s free.”
Nico grins, shaking his head. “How do you always know all the gossip?”
