Page 4 of Ivory Crown

For now, maybe there was something I could give her.

“Integrate,” I whispered to myself, the idea solidifying like concrete in my mind. “Her work, her passion... here.” I could already picture it: Jade, surrounded by cutting-edge biotech, her eyes alight with discovery, yet all within the confines of my world. It was perfect—she would never need to leave.

The BioHQ deal had been lingering on the horizon for months—paperwork, negotiations, endless meetings with suits and ties. But now, it was more than an acquisition; it was the key to keeping Jade close. With a piece of BioHQ under my control, I could weave her destiny into the fabric of my empire without her feeling the noose tighten around her neck. I already had enough legitimacy with the Moretti labs popping up everywhere.

“Marco will know how to handle this,” I thought, confidence surging through me. He was good with numbers and even better with legal intricacies. Together, we’d make this happen. Sure, he was a bit of an impulsive idiot who liked dealing with things…hands-on, but he was the perfect person to bounce ideas off.

We would make this happen. He would want to, too.

For Jade. For his niece or nephew. For the future that I dared to envision—one where love wasn’t overshadowed by the darkness of my heritage. I hadn’t told Marco about her pregnancy yet, but he would find out sooner or later.

Determined, I grabbed my phone, ready to set things in motion. Jade’s future—and mine—depended on the moves I was about to make.

But before I could call him, he was already calling me.

The sharp ring had sliced through the thick silence of the early morning hours like a knife.

“Talk to me,” I answered, my voice a low rumble echoing in the vastness of the penthouse.

“Dante, it’s urgent,” Marco’s tone was clipped, every word laced with a tension that immediately put me on edge. “We need to meet—now.”

The very thought of stepping out and leaving Jade unprotected coiled a knot of fear and possessiveness in my gut, a visceral reaction I couldn’t control. “No, you come here,” I growled into the phone, unwilling to entertain any argument.

There was a pause, a quiet understanding passing between us. “Alright, give me fifteen.”

“Make it ten,” I countered before hanging up.

In the minutes that followed, I dressed quickly, slipping into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. My movements were mechanical, driven by a need for preparedness as I mentally braced for whatever Marco was about to unload on me.

When he arrived, the door to the penthouse swung open with urgency, his frame filling the doorway. We didn’t waste time on greetings. Whatever Marco had on his mind, it was urgent.

“Lorenzo Caruso,” Marco began, his face half-hidden in the dim light filtering through the partially drawn blinds, “he’s making moves—violent, ambitious. His eyes are set on expansion, and he’s not being subtle.”

“Caruso,” I spat the name like venom. His reputation preceded him, his ambition for power a constant shadow looming over our family.

“His latest schemes...” Marco hesitated, his jaw tightening. “He’s been watching me, Dante. But more worrying—he might be keeping tabs on Mom.”

Ice coursed through my veins at the mention of our mother. She was off-limits, sacred in the unspoken laws of our twisted world. The idea that Caruso would stoop so low was a testament to his desperation—or madness.

“Marco,” I said, each word deliberate, “we tighten security. No one touches our family. Caruso needs to learn his place, and if he doesn’t...” My fist clenched at my side, the implication clear.

“Understood.” Marco nodded once, resolute. “What’s your plan?”

“First, we protect what’s ours,” I replied, my gaze drifting momentarily to the closed bedroom door where I had locked Jade in. “Then, we remind Caruso why the Morettis have ruled this city for decades.”

“By blood or by bullet,” Marco affirmed, his resolve as unwavering as mine.

“By blood or by bullet,” I echoed.

“Enzo is probably going to lose it when he hears about Caruso’s latest stunt,” I said, my voice edged with a dark prediction.

Marco shook his head, his expression unreadable in the muted morning light. “I don’t think Dad even noticed,” he replied, a hint of disbelief lacing his tone.

I could hardly imagine that—our father, Enzo Moretti, missing a play by Caruso? It didn’t add up. But then, there was a lot on the old man’s plate, and even the sharpest blade dulls with constant use.

“Regardless,” I responded, pushing aside thoughts of our father’s potential oversight, “it’s our problem now.” My gaze shifted out the expansive windows overlooking the city. The high-rise felt like a fortress, but every fortress had its weak points. I wouldn’t let Jade become one.

“Security,” I murmured more to myself than to Marco. “We need eyes everywhere, double the patrols, and restrict access. No one gets close without our say-so.”

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