Page 93 of Ivory Obsession

“Five minutes, Jade.” His voice was low but firm, his gaze holding mine hostage.

My throat was dry as I looked at him. “Okay,” I said. “Five minutes. Then you leave.”

He nodded, closing the door behind him.

And I was trapped.

Chapter Forty-One: Dante

But Jade didn’t want to give me five minutes.

She ran, which made me feel like shit. The door slammed shut behind me, a sound that echoed like a verdict in the tiny living room of Jade’s apartment. My heart was pounding, but I kept my voice even as ice. “Jade, I’m serious. We need to talk.”

She wasn’t there in front of me, probably holed up somewhere in this cramped excuse for a home. The place was a stark contrast to the grandeur and calculated opulence I was raised in. Here, the furniture seemed to absorb the weak light from the lamp, making the shadows stretch long and thin across the walls.

I shifted on my feet, my jacket protesting with a soft creak, and my gaze landed on the worn-out couch. It was then that I saw them—the books and that damn prenatal vitamin bottle that made my stomach drop. Pregnancy guides looking like they’d been read a dozen times over and prenatal vitamins carelessly left out in the open.

The realization settled deep in my stomach before I managed to speak.

“Are you pregnant?” The question shot out of me before I could reel it in, my voice betraying the shock that was slamming into me. It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Nothing about this night was going as planned.

But there was no answer.

She emerged like a specter from the shadows, standing near the window with the city skyline painting her in light and darkness. The silhouette of her body was outlined against the glass, arms crossed over her chest—a fortress of one.

“Jade,” I said, my gaze darting between her and the books. “Tell me the truth.”

“Yes,” Jade confirmed, her tone flat but with an undercurrent of something I couldn’t quite place. Was it fear? Defiance? All I knew was that the sight of her standing there, poised to flee, ignited a fire inside me.

“Yes? You’re pregnant?”

“I am,” she said.

“Jade, look at me,” I commanded, my voice low and dangerous. She turned slowly, her eyes meeting mine. There was a flicker there, an uncertainty that she tried to mask with a hard set to her jaw.

“Was that your plan?” I nodded toward the open suitcase teetering on the edge of the couch, stuffed with clothes that screamed of quick decisions and desperation. “Were you planning to tell me or just disappear?”

For a moment, she said nothing, letting the question hang heavy between us. Then a cold silence spread through the room, only broken by the distant hum of traffic filtering in from the streets below. It was a familiar sound, one that usually brought comfort, but tonight it was just a reminder of all the ways life could go wrong.

“Answer me, Jade,” I demanded, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. I had to fight to keep my composure, to keep from shaking her until the truth came out. My world was spinning, the foundations cracking, and she stood there, the catalyst of it all.

“Would it have made a difference?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but it hit me like a punch to the gut. Would it have? I didn’t know, and that uncertainty was the most terrifying thing of all. “You have your life and I have mine.”

“Of course,” I snapped, feeling the raw edge of betrayal slice through me. “Of course it would have made a difference!”

My thoughts churned like the East River during a storm, dark and unrelenting. The idea of her leaving—without a word, without a trace—stung worse than any wound I’d taken in the streets.

Jade’s defiant spark didn’t waver as I scrutinized her, trying to decipher the enigma wrapped in that curvy frame. She was an open book when it came to her research, but outside the lab, she was a fortress. And right then, her walls were up, the drawbridge pulled tight.

“Well, I can raise this baby by myself—“

“Doesn’t matter now,” I grumbled, stepping back as if the distance could dull the sharpness of the situation. “Look at me.”

Jade’s shoulders squared, her body language shifting into something more combative. It was clear she was readying for a fight, perhaps the most important one she’d ever faced. And damn if that didn’t make her even more compelling.

“And what is it to you?” she shot back, those words edged with a defiance that sent a ripple of both anger and admiration through me.

“Everything,” I admitted, the weight of my own confession anchoring me to the spot. “It’s everything to me, Jade.”

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