Page 53 of Ivory Legacy

“Shh,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. Fingers gentle yet firm stroked my back, soothing the tremors thatracked my body. “I’m here, Jade. Tell me how I can help you.” His words were simple, direct, but they carried the weight of an oath.

Looking up into his eyes, I saw not the feared mob boss, but the man—Dante—who’d shown me unexpected kindnesses even as we navigated this impossible situation. And for one reckless heartbeat, I believed he might just be my salvation.

But the moment Dante asked how he could help, a labyrinth of emotions tightened around my chest. My lips parted, but words failed me. The truth was, I didn’t have a clue what I needed.

“Everything’s just so messed up,” I confessed, my voice barely louder than the hum of New York City outside the lobby’s glass doors. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Dante’s gaze searched mine, his expression etched with concern. “Let’s not worry about all that right now,” he said firmly, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through the chaos of my thoughts. “Come upstairs. We’ll drown out the world with the worst reality TV you can find and stuff our faces with whatever junk food you’re craving.”

His suggestion should’ve been laughable, trivial even, considering the gravity of everything else. And yet, there was an earnestness in his eyes, a steadfast resolve to pull me out of this spiral, if only for a night.

I stepped back from Dante’s chest, the warmth of his embrace still lingering like an afterimage against my skin. My eyes flicked upward, catching the low light that gilded the edges of his dark hair, turning it into a soft halo of disarray.

“Okay,” I said, letting a small, incredulous laugh bubble up from somewhere deep inside. The corner of my mouth quirked upward, a reluctant smile acknowledging the absurdity of finding solace in such a simple plan. “Let’s do it. Junk food and reality TV.”

“Perfect,” Dante replied, the trace of a smile tugging at his lips as if he’d scored a small victory against the gravity of our world.

And right then, everything felt like it was going to be okay.

***

I settled into the plush cushions of Dante’s couch, a plate of chicken wings balanced precariously on my lap. The TV flickered with the over-saturated blues and greens of some tropical island—a stark contrast to the snowy cityscape outside his penthouse windows. I took a bite, letting the spice linger on my tongue as I tried to shake off the remnants of my fight with Ellie.

“Look at this guy,” Dante said, gesturing at the screen. “He’s gonna get voted out today for sure.”

I laughed, “Can’t say I’ll feel sorry for him. He’s been stirring up trouble since day one.”

Dante’s deep chuckle echoed in the room, a warm sound that brought an unexpected comfort. He switched his gaze from the TV to me, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Is this how you relax?” I asked him, nudging his side with my elbow. I was trying to lighten the mood before we delved into the heavy conversation that was surely coming.

He shrugged nonchalantly before stealing a quick glance at me. “In your company? Definitely.”

“Oh, shit, I think you were right,” I said. “He’s getting voted out.”

“I’m psychic.”

I smirked at his assertion, shaking my head as the island’s host read out the doomed contestant’s name. The man’s face dropped into a shocked grimace, and I couldn’t help but chuckle. On any other day, this would be just a mindless distraction. Today, it felt like a lifeline.

Laughter faded as the last credits rolled across the TV screen, the room now filled with the subtle hum of the city that never sleeps. The playful energy from our banter still lingered in the air, a welcomed reprieve from the day’s earlier discord. I leaned back into the couch, my fingers lightly coated with the remnants of spicy sauce, and sighed contentedly.

“Jade,” Dante said, his voice suddenly serious, cutting through the lighthearted atmosphere like a swift change in weather. “Are you ready to talk about it?”

His question hung between us, charged with an anticipation that made my heart skip its steady rhythm. Everything around us seemed to fall silent, waiting for me to breach the walls I’d so carefully built. His dark eyes held mine, gentle yet probing, silently urging me to open up.

I nodded slowly, setting down the half-eaten wing onto a plate. It felt like stepping off a cliff, not knowing if there was something to catch me at the bottom. My voice, usually so sure and steady, wavered slightly as I spoke.

“Ellie has been spying on me...for Enzo,” I confessed, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. The vulnerability I felt was unfamiliar, unwelcome. It gnawed at the edges of my calm demeanor, exposing the raw concern beneath.

“Wait. Enzo, as in, my dad?”

I nodded.

“Everything I thought we had, every moment with her, it feels tainted now.” I reached for a napkin, wiping away the vestiges of spice from my hand, wishing I could do the same with the sting of betrayal. “I don’t understand how she could do this to me, Dante. To us.”

The silence in Dante’s penthouse swallowed my admission, heavy with the weight of betrayal. I watched him closely, half-expecting the brooding intensity that often accompanied our discussions of the darker facets of our lives. Instead, his reaction came like a soft exhale, a breeze rather than the storm I had braced for.

“Enzo,” he said simply, his voice low but devoid of the edge I anticipated. There was no shift in his posture, no clenching of fists or jaw. His demeanor remained as calm as the quiet evening around us, his dark eyes still fixed on mine with an understanding that caught me off guard. “How long?”

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