Page 72 of Ivory Crown

“Yeah,” I continued, forcing a weak smile, “a little girl would have been nice.”

“Would’ve been?” Jade echoed, her voice gentle.

“Is,” I corrected myself quickly, a faint hint of hope threading through the weariness. “Is going to be nice.”

She nodded, her hand finally settling atop mine, warmth seeping into my skin. “I think so too, Dante. I really do.”

I blinked back the emotion threatening to spill, focusing on the warmth of Jade’s touch. The world outside our bubble seemed a distant reality, one I was in no hurry to return to. What mattered was here, now.

“Jade,” I said, my voice thick with emotions I couldn’t name. They were like wild vines in the ruins of my heart—unexpected and tenacious. She looked at me, her eyes pools of blue I could drown in.

In that moment, there was nothing else to consider, nothing else to weigh down the choice. I leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her lips. It wasn’t just flesh meeting flesh; it was everything I felt for her—love, fear, and a fierce desire to protect what we were building together. My thoughts crystallized around the love I had for her, a love that had grown in the shadowed corners of my life, unexpected and relentless.

The restaurant faded away, and for a brief moment, it was just the two of us, suspended in the intimacy of our connection. But even as we pulled away, the reality of our world waited, patient and inexorable.

I knew that soon enough, we’d have to step back into the roles fate had cast for us. But for now, this moment was ours alone, a stolen piece of serenity amidst the chaos of the life we lead.

I moved away from her, the lingering taste of her still on my lips. It was a bittersweet retreat, but necessary. “You called your parents yet?” I asked, trying to sound casual, but there was an undercurrent of concern in my voice.

“From what phone?” Jade replied with a raised eyebrow, her voice a mix of sass and genuine curiosity.

I felt like an asshole then, realizing how isolated I’d kept her. All for her safety, or so I told myself, but at what cost? “You’ve proven yourself,” I said gruffly, not wanting to admit how much I hated this part of our lives. I reached under the table, feeling the cool cardboard of the phone box I had stashed there earlier.

I pulled it out and slid it across the table to her. She looked at it, then at me, a question in her eyes. I opened it and pushed the brand new phone towards her. “I feel bad about how cut off you’ve been,” I admitted, my voice low. “Especially now...with the baby. I do have to go to work. I do have to leave you alone at home. If anything were to happen and you couldn’t reach help, I would never be able to forgive myself.”

Jade’s fingers brushed mine as she took the phone, and I felt a jolt, not unlike electricity, pass between us. Her eyes softened, the corners crinkling with a smile that hit me right in the chest. “Thanks, Dante,” she whispered, and that simple thank you held more weight than any oath of fealty ever spoken in the dim light of my family’s backroom dealings.

“Use it to call whoever you need,” I told her, and for a moment, I let myself believe in a different world—one where the only thing that mattered was keeping her smile alive and our future safe. “Use it to do anything you need.”

And when her smile brightened, everything felt like it would be just fine.

If only either of us knew what was about to come, maybe Jade would have stopped smiling.

Chapter Forty-Two: Jade

My hands shook, the cold device an unwelcome weight in my grip.

I wasn’t stupid.

I knew Dante would be checking all of my activity…and I needed to be really fucking careful.

Dante’s lips had curved in that familiar, dangerous smile as he gifted me the latest model phone, a token dressed up as care. But I knew better. I excused myself with a practiced smile that didn’t quite reach my eyes, murmuring about needing the bathroom. My pulse hammered in my ears, each beat screaming for me to get out.

Navigating through the labyrinth of the restaurant’s lavish corridors, I felt the oppressive air thick with silent promises of violence. The walls might as well have had ears, listening for any sign of betrayal or weakness. With each step, I half-expected a hand to clamp down on my shoulder and drag me back to the dining table.

I pushed open the door to the outside, its heavy swing and subsequent thud behind me serving as temporary reprieve from the watchful eyes. Standing there on the cusp of freedom and danger, I inhaled the crisp night air. For a moment, just a fleeting second, I contemplated running. It would be so easy to disappear into the darkness, leave everything behind…

“Stupid,” I chided myself under my breath. As if distance could ever truly separate me from Dante Moretti’s grasp. He was the kind of man who didn’t need to see you to find you; his reach extended far beyond what the eye could see.

With a sigh, I glanced down at the sleek phone in my trembling hand. A gift? No. Another chain, another way for him to keep tabs on me. This wasn’t just a phone—it was a leash, a reminder that no matter how bright my mind or strong my resolve, I was still caught in the spider’s web. And Dante, he was the spider, watching me dance at the edge of his domain, knowing all too well that I wouldn’t—couldn’t—leave. Not yet.

My breath misted in the night air, and I wrapped my arms around myself, hugging the blue dress tighter against my body. The fabric was too thin to fend off the bite of autumn’s chill. A shiver threatened to climb my spine, but I suppressed it; I had bigger concerns than the cold.

“Are you okay?” The question, coming out of nowhere, startled me. I spun around to find Officer Rodriguez emerging from the shadows, his black coat flapping slightly in the breeze like some dark-winged harbinger. His eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that felt almost invasive—like he could see right through to the mess of thoughts and fears scrambling inside my head.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Officer?” I snapped before I could stop myself, a little louder than intended. My pulse hammered in my ears. Was he following me? Had he been all this time?

“Detective,” he said. “I’m a detective.”

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