Page 95 of Ivory Crown

As we walked away from our table, the café resumed its usual rhythm. The hum of conversation and clinking of dishes filled the air once again, making our confrontation feel like a dream. But the lingering tension in my body and the worried glances Ellie sent in our direction reminded me of the grim reality.

As we crossed the threshold of the café, Dante’s firm grip on my hand was a comforting anchor. I glanced over my shoulder one last time to see Rodriguez’s unwavering gaze through the café window, watching us as we disappeared into the afternoon hustle and bustle. The sunlight felt harsh against my skin, a stark contrast to the dark turn my life felt like it had just taken.

“Did you know?” he asked.

“About…”

“Did you know the police would be here?”

“What? No,” I said. “No, I…”

He stopped for a second, turning around and grabbing my chin to tilt my head up so I would look right into his eyes.

"Dante, I swear," I pleaded, my heart pounding in my chest. His grip on my chin was firm but not painful; it was demanding, demanding the truth.

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you didn't know he'd be here." Dante's brown eyes were dark storms of doubt and betrayal. This is not a man to cross, I reminded myself.

"I had no idea Dante. I promise," I said earnestly, allowing him to see my vulnerability, my honesty.

“We’re going to go home,” he said, his gaze darting between my eyes and my lips. “And this time, when I punish you, you aren’t going to like it at all.”

Chapter Fifty-Three: Dante

Iyanked Jade close, the cold morning air no match for the heat coursing through me. Our lips crashed together, my urgency not just about want but a silent vow to keep her safe from the darkness I couldn't escape.

I hugged her close to me, feeling the slight swell of her belly. My warm breath clouded in the cold air as I whispered, "Jade, you have to leave."

The surprise and hurt in her eyes was like a blade to my heart. Her arms wrapped tightly around me, fingers clutching the back of my coat. A soft 'no' escaped her lips as she buried her face in my chest.

I could see my breath fogging up in the autumn morning chill, matching the frostiness that had suddenly descended on our conversation. Her words cut through me like a razor-sharp icicle. I tightened my grip around her, the harsh reality of the situation looming over us like a storm cloud.

“I will join you, but I don’t think you can stay at the penthouse anymore,” I told her.

“You said you would leave this life…”

“And look, I will leave this life. I will,” I told her, and I meant it. “But right now, just you being out with me is so dangerous.”

A flicker of movement in the shadows caught my attention. I turned my head slightly, eyes narrowing as I recognized Luca lurking in the darkness. My gaze flicked back to Jade, and I could see the slight tremble in her hands, feel the way she was trying to suppress her fear.

"I need you to trust me on this, Jade," I told her, my voice a low murmur layered with urgency.

“Boss,” Luca said the moment our gazes locked.

"Luca," I barked, pulling back. Luca strode out from the shadows, his face screwed up in something ugly. My gut twisted when I realized what I was looking at.

The bastard had a gun in his hand, and it was pointed straight at us.

"What the hell are you doing here?" My voice cut through the quiet morning, a sharp edge of authority laced with an undercurrent of dread. Something was off, terribly wrong. Luca's eyes dodged mine, and his grip on the gun wasn't just tight—it was purposeful.

Jade started to turn, her instincts kicking in, trying to follow my line of sight. But she never completed the motion. My reflexes, honed from years of survival within the mafia's ruthless embrace, kicked into overdrive. I wrapped my arm around Jade's waist, and with one swift motion, thrust her aside.

She was on the floor, but I wasn’t going to be fast enough.

Across from us, Luca's finger trembled on the trigger, his loyalty teetering like a house of cards in a stiff breeze—shaky, uncertain, on the verge of collapse under the weight of an unseen command. I could see it in his eyes, the silent apology, the resignation. Whatever—or whoever—had gotten to him was playing for keeps.

"It’s nothing personal," Luca murmured, the quiver in his tone belied the falseness of his statement.

"Nothing personal?" I echoed, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird.

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