Page 26 of Ivory Legacy

"Thanks," I muttered, watching her navigate to the kitchen with an ease that made it clear this was her sanctuary, not a hideout.

That made me feel like shit.

She returned, two glasses in hand, and handed one to me before sinking into the couch, its fabric whispering under her weight. I followed suit, feeling the cushions embrace us both, a small island of normalcy.

"Why didn't you tell me where you were?" I asked, my words rough around the edges.

“I mean. That’s obvious.”

“Humor me. I need to hear it from you.”

She took a sip, her throat moving delicately as she swallowed. "I was trying to..." Her voice faltered, and she set down the glass before meeting my gaze. "Look, you kept me captive for months. I didn’t know what was happening. And then I thought I wasgoing to lose you, and the police came after you, and it was all such a mess. I realize the fact that I’m pregnant is more than just a complication, but Dante, the police really wanted me to testify. It’s a miracle I managed to escape from them. You’re not the only reason I’m here.”

“Wait,” I replied, trying to process that. “You wanted to protect me?”

“Yes, I wanted to protect you, Dante. If I testified against you, it would destroy everything you've built."

"Protect me?" I echoed, the irony bitter on my tongue. "From what, Jade? You think I can't handle it?"

"No." She shook her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. "It's not that. It's just...there's a part of me that definitely needed to get away from you. From all of this."

"Damn it, Jade," I cursed under my breath, recognizing the truth in her words. "I was a fool for ever trying to imprison you in my apartment."

The admission stung, a raw acknowledgement of my own failings.

Her eyes glistened, moisture pooling until tears brimmed along her lower lashes. "Dante, I—"

"Shh," I cut in softly, my heart wrenching at the sight. “I guess I was so desperate to protect you I didn’t stop to think about what you might want. I should’ve always thought about what you want.”

You make it sound almost romantic."

"Because it is, Jade. This whole damn thing between us—it's the most honest thing I've ever felt." I took her hands in mine, their coolness a stark contrast to the heat of my palms.

"Even if it terrifies me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, each word laden with the weight of our shared past and uncertain future.

"Especially then," I confirmed, my thumbs tracing circles over the backs of her hands, committing the feel of her skin to memory. "Because it means it's real."

She closed her eyes, the tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t know how I feel about all this, Dante,” she said. “I’m furious because how dare you keep me captive in your apartment and I’m a bit annoyed you came to see me when I obviously made the trek in part to get away from you. But I’m…glad to see you. Excited, even. And I wish I wasn’t, because it would be easy if I wasn’t. It would be easy if I could just tell you to get away from me and never come back, but I can’t do that, can I?”

"No, you can't," my voice was a low growl, a combination of exasperation and desire. Desire because every word she spoke, every tear she shed, drew me in closer. Exasperation because I wanted her to understand. I wanted her to see the impossibility of our situation as clearly as I did, to see that there were no easy answers, only hard choices. And every choice came with its own set of repercussions.

I grabbed her hand, the coolness of her skin grounding me. "Thank you," I said, my voice rough with gratitude. "For beinghonest, for understanding—even when it's the last thing you owe me."

Jade looked up, her eyes a clear window to her soul. "We're past owing each other things, Dante. This is about what we choose now."

"Right." I paused, the weight of unshared truths heavy on my chest. "There's more I need to tell you. Things about my... our world that could change everything." I glanced away, wrestling with the urge to protect her from the family's darkness.

"Tell me," she urged, squeezing my hand.

"Jade, the Moretti problems—they're not yours to shoulder. It's better if you stay out of it. It’s better if you stay here.”

Her gaze never wavered "You think me being here will make this easier?"

"Maybe it won't," I conceded, the thought of separation clawing at my insides, "but I can't let you get tangled up in my mess any further. You deserve better. And it’ll keep you safe. You and the baby."

She was quiet for a moment, her silence speaking louder than words ever could. Then, with deliberate tenderness, she leaned into me, an anchor in the tempest of our lives.

"Jade?" I prompted, watching the gears turn in her head.

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