Page 76 of Ivory Crown

Her dark hair, a cascade of midnight against the pale blue of her dress, swayed slightly as she turned to face me. I knew then that whatever semblance of control I thought I had was slipping through my fingers.

I caught the glint of unshed tears in her eyes, and my throat tightened. “I’m fine,” she whispered, but her trembling voice gave her away. Her words were like a punch to the gut; I heard what she didn’t say as loudly as the lie that slipped through those quivering lips. “This just isn’t anything how I pictured it.”

My heart clenched. Jade, with her brilliant mind and too-big heart, hadn’t signed up for this—this twisted world where danger was always a misstep away. She was a woman of logic, of order, the complete opposite of the chaotic life I had been born into.

And now she was part of it, whether she wanted to be or not.

“What do you mean?” The question came out rougher than I intended, my concern threading through each syllable. I wanted—no, needed—to fix whatever was tearing at her, even if it meant tearing myself apart piece by piece.

“I don’t know. Guess I just always thought I’d be married before having children.”

Her eyes lifted to mine, probing as though the solution to her confusion might be hidden within my gaze. A soft chuckle slipped from me before I could stop it, and I saw the corner of her mouth twitch in response.

“We can still make that happen,” I declared with a certainty that even surprised me.

Jade’s laughter echoed then, a genuine sound that filled the room and eased the tension in my chest. “I’m not even your girlfriend, Dante.”

“Of course you are.” The words slid out smooth and easy, accompanied by a laugh that didn’t quite reach my eyes. It was an absurd conversation when we considered everything—two people tied together by circumstances neither of us fully comprehended.

She didn’t press on the matter, perhaps because deep down she recognized some truth entwined in our jesting. Or maybe we were both simply desperate to grasp at any semblance of normality amidst this chaos.

Or maybe she was just furious with me…and she had every right to be.

I inched closer, bridging the gap between us. My hands found her waist, drawing her gently against me. Jade’s arms wound around my torso; her face nestled into my chest and I felt her sigh against my skin. Her scent enveloped me—lilacs mixed with something else.

“I love you,” I whispered, the words tumbling from my lips before I could reconsider them. I knew she had heard it before, but I thought if I told her again, maybe she would finally begin to understand.

Jade’s body tensed briefly before relaxing once more into our embrace. She remained silent but she didn’t need to speak; her grip tightened, fingers digging into my back through the fabric of my suit. I knew she’d heard me, understood the gravity of my declaration.

Jade looked up at me, and I caught the storm of emotions swirling in her eyes—fear, hope, a fierce determination. It was like looking into the heart of the tempest itself.

For a second, I thought she might say that she loved me too.

She didn’t.

“I know,” she whispered, her voice shaky but carrying a weight that pinned me to the spot. That wasn’t what I wanted, but fuck it. It was good enough.

Without another word, my lips found hers, crushing onto her with a hunger born from too many nights spent dreaming of this. Her taste flooded my senses. Jade moaned, a sound so raw and true it echoed through the hollows of my soul. Her fingers curled into my shirt, clinging on like I was the last shred of sanity in her unraveling world.

I poured every unspoken promise, every silent plea into that kiss. I wanted her to taste the truth in my mouth—that she was mine in ways the law of men would never understand. Her response was immediate, fervent; her tongue met mine in a dance as desperate as it was deliberate.

Time held no meaning as we lost ourselves in the connection that had become our lifeline. It was more than passion; it was survival.

Somehow, I managed to tear myself away from her, and stood up. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s go to bed.”

Her eyes, glazed and heavy-lidded, stared up at me as she nodded, rising to her feet. I could tell she was tired; the day had taken its toll on us both. But beneath the fatigue, there was something else—a spark of something that filled me with dread and hope in equal measures.

I held out my hand to her and Jade took it, her palm sliding against mine with a kind of intimacy that reached right into the core of me. Her touch was soft, almost fragile, like she was offering herself over to an uncertainty that neither of us could predict. I tugged her lightly, leading her away from the oppressive weight of the living room and toward the sanctuary of the bedroom.

As we approached the bed, I pulled her into another kiss.

The heat from our desperate embrace hung in the air of my penthouse, thick as the tension that had always crackled between us. Jade’s breath came in ragged pulls, each one syncing with the erratic thrumming of my heart.

My hands, traitorous and hungry, couldn’t get enough of her skin. They slipped beneath the hem of her blue dress, fingers brushing against her warm flesh. Jade arched into my touch, her moaning a siren’s call.

She was mine to claim, and damn anyone who told me otherwise.

“Jade,” I murmured against her lips, the taste of her still lingering like a promise. With a swift motion, I turned her over, her front pressed into the soft sheets. My eyes raked her body, greedily taking in every curve as I slowly unzipped her dress. The sound it made was a whisper of fabric, a prelude to what was to come.

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