Page 1 of Ivory Legacy

Chapter One: Jade

Iwas trapped.

The chill of the interrogation room seeped into my bones, its sterile atmosphere wrapping around me like an unwanted ghost. The chair beneath me was unforgivingly rigid, yet the discomfort it brought paled in comparison to the pulsating dread nestled deep within my chest. Detective Rodriguez leaned in, his gaze as piercing as shards of glass, and I understood that this wasn’t just a casual chat.

“Dr. Bentley,” he began, his voice gruff and unyielding. My last name rolling off his tongue felt more like an indictment than a simple address. “Here’s the deal: you cooperate or Dante’s future will be filled with more bars than those at his usual watering holes.”

The ultimatum was crystal clear: either I complied or Dante would lose his freedom. A spark of indignation ignited within meat being coerced so blatantly but it was quickly extinguished by the chilling acceptance of its validity.

“Why are we stuck in this godforsaken interrogation room?” I protested, attempting to mask my fear-induced quiver with annoyance. The walls seemed to inch closer with every passing second, each one echoing Dante’s name ominously.

“Because you agreed to assist us,” Rodriguez retorted flatly, though there was a distinct edge to his tone. “We can’t afford any risk of you getting cold feet and running off. We need you, Dr. Bentley, and if you want your lover boy to avoid donning prison garb, you need us too.”

I gritted my teeth under the weighty scrutiny of the detective’s stare. His distrust for me was palpable and honestly, I couldn’t fault him for it. But did I even have an alternative? With each heartbeat that echoed in my chest, I could feel Dante’s existence intertwined with mine - a connection far deeper than what I had ever anticipated when our paths first crossed. His world was shrouded in darkness, teeming with secrets and perils - and now, so was mine.

“I never agreed to supervised confinement,” I snapped, the injustice of the situation rankling. “I thought you were taking me to my house to change out of these blood-soaked clothes...not straight to lock-up.” My stained black shirt was a grim reminder of the chaotic scene I’d left behind, a stark contrast to the pristine walls of this room.

Rodriguez’s dark eyes softened for a split second before reverting back to their default frostiness. “Dr. Bentley,” he began in a voice that tried and failed to be soothing, “Dante Moretti isin a medically-induced coma because of a gunshot wound. You can’t help him right now.”

My fists clenched reflexively at his words, each syllable hitting me harder than the last. The image of Dante, lying unconscious amidst tangled sheets and blaring monitors, was etched into the back of my eyelids. The desire to protect him - even from himself - was visceral.

He continued without waiting for my response, “But you know who can help? You can - by assisting us in taking down his family’s criminal empire.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “I should be there when he wakes up.”

“Well, it does matter, because I need to make certain that we do have your help.”

“Fine. But I need proof he’s still alive,” I demanded, my voice hitching with a mix of dread and defiance. What I really wanted to do was cry…but I wasn’t going to give this bastard the pleasure of seeing that. “C’mon. You have to give me that, at least.”

Detective Rodriguez regarded me for a moment, his expression unreadable.

“Alright,” he said, pulling out his phone. He tapped the screen a few times before showing me a photo of Dante lying in a hospital bed, an IV snaking into his arm, his face pale but peaceful in slumber. “Satisfied?”

I shook my head, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “That could be from hours ago. I need proof that he’s…you know, not okay. But alive. Right now. Breathing.”

Rodriguez hesitated, then sighed. “Hold on.” He dialed a number and spoke briefly into the phone. Moments later, the screen came to life with a video call from a nurse at the hospital. She panned the phone around the room, showing Dante surrounded by his family—Enzo, Dante’s mother clutching a rosary, and Marco, his brother, stone-faced and stoic.

“Okay. Edward? Do you want to talk to him?” The nurse’s voice was gentle. “Do you want to talk to the family?”

“No,” I cut in curtly, my heart twisting at the sight of Dante’s motionless form. I didn’t have the bandwidth to deal with his family. They had never even met me. I wasn’t going to go in there and announce myself, not even through a phone call.

I was pregnant, not crazy.

“Thank you,” I whispered, my gaze lingering on the screen until Rodriguez ended the call. With a deep breath, I fortified the walls around my heart, bracing myself for what was to come. Dante was under watchful eyes; now it was time to focus on my own survival.

“Okay. You got what you wanted,” Rodriguez said, stashing his phone back in his pocket. “Now you have to give me what I want.”

“I already told you I would cooperate,” I said. “You want me to become a mole? Fine. Whatever. I’ll do whatever it takes as long as Dante is…as long as he’s okay.”

“I need you to sign something for me.”

I looked at him for a few long seconds. Fuck that. I wasn’t going to sign anything.

“Sure. But, uh, can I use the restroom?” The words escaped my lips in a rush, my mind racing with the sudden clarity that had settled over me. Dante was alive and on his way to recovery; the leverage they held over me wasn’t as solid as they had led me to believe.

“Jade…”

“I’m pregnant! I have to pee all the time,” I said. “Do you want me to do it here?”

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