Page 43 of Ivory Legacy

The tires screeched, a harsh cry against the cold pavement, and for a moment, the world outside blurred into streaks of color and light.

“Hang on,” Dante said, the corner of his mouth lifting in a grim half-smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I could see his jaw working, the subtle clench that betrayed his tension.

I clutched the seat, my mind reeling. With every turn, it felt like we were threading the needle between fate and fortune, Dante’s driving nothing short of a desperate ballet. It was reckless; it was necessary. And it was so very Dante—unyielding, audacious, and terrifyingly competent.

The rearview mirror framed the terror in snapshots – headlights bearing down on us, the glare harsh against the winter gloom. My fingers were vices around the leather of the passenger seat, the material flexing beneath my grip. Dante’s silhouette was a study in control, every shift and turn an answer to the chaos in our wake.

“Keep your head down,” he ordered, the timbre of his voice a stark command amidst the mayhem. I complied without thought, ducking as another vehicle swung into view, its intent as clear as the cold bite of the air that had rushed in earlier.

My breaths stuttered out in rapid succession, each one catching slightly as if my lungs were struggling to keep pace with thepulsing fear that gripped me. But despite the terror, I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the relentless pursuit mirrored behind us.

“Damn it,” Dante muttered, his focus never wavering even as the car lurched forward, urging more speed from the engine. I could feel the raw power of the vehicle, a beast unleashed by Dante’s hands, thrumming through the floor beneath my feet.

The chassis groaned as Dante’s foot slammed down on the accelerator, the engine’s roar a gritty soundtrack to our escape. We whipped around a corner, tires screeching in protest, the city blurring past us in a dizzying whirl of grey concrete and frost-tipped buildings.

“Damn it!” I gasped, bracing myself against the dashboard. Each swerve felt like a dance move I hadn’t learned, my body thrown this way and that. But Dante was fluid, an extension of the machine he commanded with such ferocious expertise.

“Jade, just keep your head down!” His voice was sharp, cutting through the chaos.

I obeyed without thought, shrinking lower into my seat as we plunged down an alley so narrow I could almost touch the walls reaching out to us like cold fingers.

“We need to get to the highway,” Dante said, his voice a gravelly murmur over the engine’s growl. His gaze flickered to the rear-view mirror, and for a moment, I saw something there—a spark of worry before his features hardened once more into that mask of steely determination.

A siren wailed in the distance, growing louder with each heart-stopping second. Red and blue lights strobed through the alleyway, casting horrific shadows that danced like specters in Dante’s wake.

I shot him a panicked look. “The police—“

Dante just grunted, throwing the car into another violent turn that slammed me against my door. “Their problem, not ours.”

Buildings flashed by in a dizzying blur as we rocketed towards the outskirts of Harbor Cove. The quaint seaside town had transformed into a surreal nightmare, its serene landscape now a terrifying maze of close calls and near misses.

“I’ve got this, Jade,” Dante said, his voice carrying a semblance of calm that seemed incongruous with our wild flight. I nodded, swallowing hard against the knot in my throat. The facades of the city buildings fell away, replaced by the darkness of the underpass as we hurtled toward it.

“Brace yourself,” Dante warned, his grip tightening on the wheel as he swerved to avoid an oncoming car. The impact was inevitable—a metallic shriek filled the air as our car careened off the concrete divider and back onto our lane.

I gasped, my body jolting from the shock. My heart pounded mercilessly in my chest, threatening to burst from its cage. But Dante’s voice was a grounding presence amidst the chaos—a touchstone clinging me back to reality.

“We’re okay,” he said, his tone short but assured as if reaffirming it more for himself than me. In that moment, I found myselfdrawn to his strength—a beacon in a storm I didn’t quite understand.

“Where are they?” I asked. “Are they still following us?”

Dante’s answer was a curt shake of his head as he cast a glance at the rearview mirror. “We’ve lost them, for now,” he said. His voice carried traces of relief, but there was an underlying edge—a primal wariness that told me our ordeal was far from over.

The lights of New York City loomed ahead, a glittering jungle of steel and glass cutting through the winter gloom. The skyline was a paradox—a symbol of civilization and yet a reminder of the darkness that lurked beneath its surface.

“We need to disappear,” Dante muttered, more to himself than me. “Blend in.”

“So what are we doing?”

He thought about it for a second. “Fuck it. I’m taking you home.”

Chapter Twenty-One: Dante

He didn’t say where home was.

The city’s heartbeat throbbed through the car’s floor as Dante navigated the congested streets of Manhattan. I watched the buildings slide past, their windows reflecting back a mosaic of the early afternoon sun and shadow.

I noticed he wasn’t going to his place. He was going to mine.

---