Page 93 of Ivory Crown

"Table for three," he said, his voice smooth, almost melodic, yet it carried an edge that made the hostess nod briskly and gesture us to follow.

As we wove through the tables, my heart thudded, each beat a reminder of the danger that shadowed Dante like a second skin. The muscles in my back tensed, a physical manifestation of the anxiety that twisted inside me—a tangle of fear and fascination that I couldn't unravel.

"Jade?"

I blinked, realizing Dante had stopped and was looking at me, one eyebrow slightly raised. "Sorry," I murmured, unnerved by how easily he could pull me out of my spiraling thoughts with just a word.

"Here we are." He gestured to a table by the window with a view of the bustling street outside.

I slid into the seat, my movements stiff and mechanical. The chair was plush, the ambiance of the place trendy yet intimate, but I couldn't shake the sensation of being an impostor in this scene.

"Relax," Dante said as he settled opposite me, his voice a low command that somehow soothed even as it set me on edge.

"Easy for you to say. You don’t have to pretend that everything is normal to your closest friend. She can read me like a book," I retorted, allowing a hint of my usual directness to bleed into my words. It was easier to cling to the familiar persona of Dr. Jade Bentley—no-nonsense scientist—than to acknowledge the vulnerability Dante stirred within me.

“You can tell her almost everything, Jade,” he said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes,” he said. “And look. You're safe with me, Jade. You know that, right?"

Did I? The question loomed large in my mind, but I pushed it aside, focusing instead on the way his gaze never wavered, how it seemed to strip away the layers I hid behind. There was no mistaking the intent behind those eyes; they missed nothing, took in everything. They were the eyes of a man who knew power and wasn't afraid to wield it.

"Sure," I lied, folding my hands in my lap to hide their slight tremble. "Why wouldn't I be?"

The corner of Dante's mouth quirked up in a knowing smile, and I braced myself for whatever came next. With Dante, I was learning to expect the unexpected. And as much as I hated to admit it, part of me thrived on the unpredictability he brought into my carefully structured life.

The moment his phone buzzed, Dante excused himself with a nod that was both terse and apologetic. His departure left an invisible wake that seemed to pull at me, but I was grateful for the reprieve. The tightness in my chest eased slightly as I turned to face Ellie, who was walking into the restaurant.

We greeted each other, but the moment she sat down, she looked incredibly concerned.

"Are you okay?" Ellie's voice cut through my scattered thoughts, sharp as a scalpel. It was a simple question, yet loaded with layers of unspoken concern.

"Things have been intense lately," I managed to say, and it felt like acknowledging the cracks in a dam I'd painstakingly built. My voice betrayed the strain, the hint of desperation I fought so hard to keep under wraps.

"Intense" didn't begin to cover it—my life had become a tightrope walk above a chasm where the Moretti family's dark dealings churned like a stormy sea below. And Dante... Dante was the enigma at the center of it all, the man who could either be my savior or my undoing.

Ellie's gaze held mine, steady and unwavering. She knew me too well; she saw past the facade to the raw edges beneath. It was disconcerting, being so transparent to someone when I’d spent so much effort shrouding myself in secrecy.

"Jade," she said softly, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. "You don't have to carry this alone, you know?"

But I did. Because how could I burden her with the weight of my fears, fears that were tangled up with a man like Dante? How could I confess that I was drawn to him in a way that defied logic, that threatened to sweep away everything I thought I knew about myself?

How could I confess I was worried about my life, and my child’s life, but I didn’t want to give Dante up?

"Thanks, El," I whispered, the words a lifeline I clung to. In that small café, amidst the hum of conversation and clinking of dishes, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. But even as I did, I couldn't shake the feeling that everything was about to change.

“Look, I know you’re probably dealing with a lot, but…”

The back door swung open, and Detective Rodriguez stepped into the café. His presence was like a shadow falling over our small table. Confusion twisted my features as Ellie's hand tightened around mine.

"Rodriguez?" I breathed, more of a question than a greeting. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wasn’t lying, Dr. Bentley,” Rodriguez said. “Everyone is worried about you.”

My gaze flicked back and forth between Rodriguez and Ellie, a knot of betrayal forming in the pit of my stomach. I felt exposed, stripped bare in a way I hadn’t expected nor wanted. The café, once warm and inviting, turned cold and hostile, each stare from the patrons stinging like a slap.

My gaze flicked back and forth between Rodriguez and Ellie, a knot of betrayal forming in the pit of my stomach. I felt exposed, stripped bare in a way I hadn’t expected nor wanted. The café, once warm and inviting, turned cold and hostile, each stare from the patrons stinging like a slap.

---