Page 1 of Ivory Obsession

Chapter One: Dante

Iwas about to confront my father.

Confront wasn’t exactly the right word; this was more like a pitch. But it still made me feel sick to my stomach. Enzo Moretti didn’t love change and I’d already disappointed him enough by not doing exactly what he asked of me. It wasn’t that I was unable to find a way and settle down–it was just that there were so many other things to do beyond bribery and money-laundering.

I knew our operation could be so much bigger…if only he would listen to me.

I stood in the heart of power, the Moretti study—a sanctuary of dark woods and history etched into every piece of furniture. The walls were lined with memories, each one whispering tales of dominance and ruthlessness. I felt their eyes on me, the silent witnesses to our family’s legacy, as I dared to disturb the stillness with my proposition.

My father’s fingers were interlaced in front of his face, his eyes dark behind his reading glasses. “I don’t know about this,” he mumbled.

“Dad, please. Biotech is the future,” I insisted, the leather of the chair beneath my hands groaning as I leaned forward. My fingers danced in the air, tracing the outline of an empire rejuvenated by science. My gaze darted around the room, landing on a dusty DNA helix model tucked away on a shelf behind a stack of ledgers.

I picked it up, turning it over in my hands, trying to ground myself with the feeling of the cold metal on my fingertips.

My dad sighed.

“With this, we can mend bone and flesh in hours, not days. We gain the upper hand, no longer just survivors but reigning sovereigns on a battlefield that’s evolving daily. Think about it…We might not even have to pay doctors. We might not have to worry about which hospital to go to. I know it sounds like crazy scifi stuff, but beyond practical applications for our op, what about selling this technology to the highest bidder? Presidents, leaders–we’d be rich beyond measure.”

Enzo sat across from me, his figure a shadow against the waning light filtering through the window. His face was stoic, chiseled from the same stone as the men who came before him, unyielding and cold.

“Your head’s in the clouds, Dante.” His voice was a low rumble, a warning bell tolling in the late afternoon quiet of our Little Italy stronghold. “You speak of playing God, but forget the devil we know best. Our strength lies not in meddling with nature but in the bonds of loyalty and fear we cultivate. People give us money to protect them, Dante. They do that for a reason.”

“Father, those bonds break, flesh tears. This...this is control like we’ve never had.” My words spilled out, hot and fast, contrasting his measured tone. “We’d be untouchable.”

“Or exposed,” he countered, his gaze sharp as a knife’s edge. “Every new venture comes with risks. And this miracle healing thing? It puts a spotlight on us when we should be melting into the shadows.”

“Then let’s be the ones holding the spotlight,” I shot back, my heart hammering against my chest in a rhythm I couldn’t silence. “Let others cower in our light.”

Enzo’s eyes, the color of storm clouds over the city, narrowed slightly. He considered me, his eldest son, as if I were a puzzle he’d yet to solve—a piece that didn’t quite fit the family portrait.

“Passion blinds you, Dante,” he said at last. “It makes you easy prey for those waiting for us to falter.”

“Or it’s the very thing that will ensure we don’t,” I replied.

My father leaned back, his hands stilling in front of his face. “I wish you’d drop this,” he said. “Stop sleeping around with whichever slut falls in your bed and find a nice Italian girl to marry. Why can’t you do that?”

“Suitable brides are not the mortar that will fortify our empire, Father,” I said, my voice steady despite the unease brewing within me. Enzo’s suggestion had struck a chord, one that resonated with defiance. The room seemed to shrink around us, the air thick with the weight of unspoken truths.

“Family alliances have always been our way, Dante. You would do well to remember that,” he replied, his tone suggesting that this was more command than counsel.

My fingers inadvertently traced the spine of an old ledger on his desk, the leather cracked and worn like the traditions he clung to.

“I haven’t forgotten,” I murmured, almost to myself as much as to him. Then, almost unconsciously, my hand found the DNA helix model that I’d put down just a second ago—a symbol of possibility. I twisted it slowly, feeling each metal rung turn beneath my fingertips.

“Science is not our world,” my father’s voice broke through my thoughts, a low growl that spoke of a time when might ruled and questions were quelled with force. His eyes flicked to the helix in my hand, and his disapproval was palpable.

“Times change. We have to adapt or be left behind,” I countered, setting the helix down with a resolve that mirrored the steel in my voice. “Our empire was built on discretion and brute strength, yes. But we live in an age where intelligence can be just as deadly.”

Enzo met my gaze, his skepticism a fortress wall I had yet to breach. There was a chasm between us, widening with every word, every idea that strayed from the path he had trodden for so long.

“Your ideas are dangerous, son,” he warned, though I could hear the undercurrent of fear in his voice.

“Only to those who fail to see their potential,” I shot back, unwilling to let his doubt become mine.

“Then prove it,” Enzo challenged, his voice a gravelly test of my convictions. “Show me how this ‘new world’ business can strengthen the Morettis without betraying what we stand for.”

I inhaled deeply, the weight of legacy pressing down on me. My reply came not as an eager son but as a man ready to lead. “I will. I’ll bring us into the future, even if I have to drag us there kicking and screaming.”

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