Page 45 of Ivory Crown

And then it struck me, the most frightening realization of all: maybe I didn’t want a way out.

Maybe the darkness that surrounded Dante, the very thing I should run from, was where I found the most solace.

It scared me more than the thought of facing my parents with the truth—the possibility that I had already crossed a line within myself from which there was no return.

Chapter Nineteen: Dante

Ihad something to take care of.

And I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but I was afraid.

I pushed the heavy door open, the creak of old hinges slicing through the silence of the night. Marco trailed me, his footsteps a soft echo on the concrete floor. We entered the warehouse, the air stale with the smell of decay—oil and rust, lingering like ghosts of the industrial past. My eyes adjusted to the scant light, flickering bulbs casting more shadows than illumination. This was the heart of our territory, and tonight, it pulsed with the threat of Caruso’s looming shadow.

“Stay sharp,” I muttered to Marco, but he didn’t need the reminder. His gaze was already prowling through the darkness, vigilant for any sign of treachery.

As we moved deeper into the belly of the building, I spotted them—the small gathering of men who were supposed to be my allies. They huddled like rats around an old table, the glow of their cigarettes the only warmth in the place. Their murmurs fell silent as they caught sight of us, the weight of my entrance settling heavily in the room.

I scanned the faces, stopping at Giovanni. He sat there with a smirk, whiskey in hand, as if he owned more than just the dirt under his fingernails. I was glad this was on my turf and not theirs…but they didn’t look like they wanted to have a nice, simple conversation.

Fuck.

“Evening, gentlemen,” I said, voice low but carrying. My suit felt out of place among these worn-out thugs, the fabric too clean, the cut too sharp.

Giovanni raised his glass, his eyes narrowed. “Dante Moretti graces us with his presence. You’re late.”

“Cut the crap, Giovanni,” I shot back, taking a seat across from him, not breaking eye contact. “We’re here for business, not pleasantries.”

Marco settled beside me, silent as ever, but his presence alone spoke volumes. Giovanni’s crew eyed us, uneasy, their hands inching toward hidden weapons beneath jackets and on thighs.

“Let’s get down to it then,” Giovanni drawled, leaning back in his chair. “What’s the big plan, boss?”

The word ‘boss’ hung mockingly in the air, but I let it slide. Tonight wasn’t about egos; it was about survival. Jade’s face flashed in my mind, but I shoved the image aside. There was no room for distraction, not when every decision could mean life or death—hers or mine.

“Usurping Lorenzo,” I began, laying out the blueprint of our attack with precision. “It’s not just about power—it’s about setting things right. You’ve been under his thumb for too long. Don’t you want to make money without paying him? My fees are much more reasonable…not to mention, I can make you far more money than his ventures ever could.”

“Yeah, that’s what you said last time.”

“And I meant it last time,” I replied. “I don’t understand why you had to call this meeting.”

Giovanni snorted, disbelief etched into every line of his sullen face. “Because I expected movement by now. I don’t know what makes you think we can pull this off? You’ve been...distracted lately.”

I knew exactly what he was implying. It wasn’t just the job on my mind; there was her—Jade. But they didn’t need to know that.

“Focus, Giovanni. This is bigger than any personal...distractions.” The word left a bitter taste in my mouth. “We do this right, and we all win.”

“Right,” he scoffed, tossing back his drink. “Because your little love affair isn’t going to screw us over.”

“Keep your mouth shut about things you don’t understand,” I snapped, feeling the room’s temperature rising along with my temper.

“Or what?” Giovanni leaned forward, eyes gleaming with provocation. “You’ll take me out like Bruno?”

Marco shifted uncomfortably, sensing the shift in mood. The table was a battleground now, every word a potential trigger.

“I had nothing to do with that,” I said, my voice even, but inside, Jade’s image danced behind my eyelids, softening my resolve. But by not trying to convince him, I could already tell I’d made a bad tactical move. Giovanni was itching to start something…and I had just given him ammunition. “But this isn’t about the past. Focus on the prize, or get out.”

“Sounds like someone’s getting cold feet—or maybe just soft in the head.” Giovanni’s words were like a viper’s strike, quick and filled with venom.

“Watch it,” Marco growled, a low rumble of warning that had Giovanni sitting up straighter.

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