Page 47 of Ivory Crown

All I was sure of was that I felt sick.

Left alone amidst the beeping machines and frantic energy of the emergency room, I tried to catch my breath, to shake off the remnants of adrenaline. But then, a sharp cry sliced through the fog of my thoughts.

I turned to see a pregnant woman collapse to the floor, her partner yelling for help. Doctors and nurses converged on her, their movements efficient yet tinged with urgency. Her cries were raw, primal—a stark reminder of how quickly life could turn on a dime.

For a moment, my own problems seemed insignificant. Here was another life hanging in the balance, another person fighting against the chaos. And despite everything, all I could think about was Jade.

The thought of Jade, so delicate yet so determined, in a place like this sent a chill down my spine. Her work in biotechnology, her passion for making a difference... it all seemed too pure, too fragile for the brutality of this world we lived in.

God forbid anything should ever happen to her. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.

I shook off the thought just as quickly as it had come. Worrying about Jade now wouldn’t do me or Marco any good. It wouldn’t solve our problems or save the woman who was now being wheeled off into an operating room.

“Sir,” a voice broke through my thoughts and I spun around to see a petite nurse with a clipboard in her hands. “I need some information about your brother.”

Rattling off Marco’s particulars required little thought - I’d memorized them ages ago, borne out of necessity and the perilous nature of our lifestyle. The nurse nodded along, scribbling furiously on her clipboard.

As soon as she was done and had scampered away, my phone buzzed in my pocket. One look at the caller ID had me stepping outside into the chilly night air.

My father was calling.

And I had no idea what he did know…all I was certain of was that things were about to get a whole lot fucking worse.

Chapter Twenty: Jade

Dante was gone…and I missed him.

The clock’s relentless ticking filled the penthouse with a rhythm that seemed to mock my solitude. It was the middle of the night, and Dante’s absence clawed at my nerves. He promised he’d only be gone briefly, but hours had stretched out like shadows at dusk, and I was alone—worry gnawing at my insides.

But…maybe this was it, the moment I’d been waiting for.

I rose from the couch, its leather cool against my skin, and made my way through the silent corridors to the lab—a sanctuary where petri dishes and microscopes were my companions. I settled in front of the computer, the blue light of the screen cutting through the darkness.

“Carbonara, tiramisu, and... garlic bread.” My voice was a steady murmur as I ordered online, more garlic bread than a sane person would need. But then again, pregnancy didn’t do much for sanity or cravings. The anxiety twisting in my belly wasn’t just from the empty apartment; it was the fear of being trapped in Dante’s gilded cage.

“Order confirmed,” I whispered, a small victory. Now, all I had to do was wait. The penance of anticipation settled over me as I closed my eyes, envisioning the steps ahead—the freedom that lay just beyond my reach if only I could grasp it.

The click of the confirmation sent a tiny ripple of resolve through me. The plan was to go to Ellie. She’d see the truth hidden in plain sight, the whole lot of nonsense I’d sent her would finally become crystal clear when I got to her apartment. I rose from the chair, my movements deliberate, and dressed for the cold night that awaited beyond the walls of Dante’s penthouse. Coat buttoned up, gloves snug against my fingers, I was armored for escape.

I paced the length of the luxurious living room, each step a silent drumbeat counting down the minutes. The grand clock was both ally and adversary, its hands inching towards freedom or betrayal with every tick. Waiting was a special kind of agony, but tonight, it was laced with the sweet promise of liberation.

Finally, the buzzer shattered the silence, a herald of what was to come. My heart raced as I opened the door, offering a practiced smile to the delivery man who handed me the food — my Trojan horse. With the bags in hand, I rushed towards the service elevator, forcing casual chatter about the weather and late shifts. It felt absurd, discussing mundane things when every fiber of my being screamed to run.

The service elevator dinged open, a soft tone that usually signaled nothing more than routine. It was empty.

I was almost free.

Almost.

But as the doors slid open with that soft ding, I wasn’t greeted by the vacant hallway I had anticipated. Instead, a broad-shouldered man stood there, his back to the wall, exuding an aura of quiet power that immediately set off alarms in my head. His presence was like a shadow that chilled the air, even though he did nothing more than lean there, seemingly at ease.

“Evening,” he said, his voice deep and resonant.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep up the façade as I stepped out with the delivery man, who was blissfully unaware of the tension crackling in the space between me and the stranger. We made small talk—me with a heightened sense of dread beneath my forced pleasantries, him with a politeness that seemed as out of place as a gun at a peace summit.

Once the delivery man left, I found myself alone with this enigmatic figure. It was then that I realized I had seen him before. The recognition didn’t comfort me; it sent a spike of adrenaline coursing through my veins. This man was one of Dante’s, a sentinel from the empire I was trying to slip past.

“Dr. Bentley,” he addressed me, causing my heart to stumble over its rhythm. “Jade.”

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