Page 9 of Ivory Legacy

“I can’t lose her, Marco.” My voice was barely a whisper, heavy with desperation. “She’s... She’s everything.”

“And you think yelling about her in a hospital full of potential enemies is going to help her? Is going to keep her safe?” Marco’s voice was equally low, his brow furrowed in a scowl. “You need to think, Dante. You’re good at thinking almost all the time, except when it comes to her. So think.”

I fell silent at his reprimand—harsh, yes, but not undeserved. Since Jade had…well, since she had come into my life, I’d been reacting out of fear. Out of desperation. But I wasn’t doing anyone—especially not Jade—any favors by panicking.

“You’re right,” I conceded after a long moment of silence. My gaze was focused somewhere on the sterile tiles of the hospital floor as I took in my brother’s words. “But her life is in danger. We’ve got to find her. Every second we waste—“

“Keep your voice down, Dante,” Marco hissed, glancing nervously at the door. “You want the whole damn hospital in here?”

“Let ’em come,” I growled, the muscles in my jaw clenching tight. Jade’s face, usually so composed and astute, haunted me.If she were here, she’d have a plan, a way to cut through the fog of treachery that clouded my mind.

“Listen, man, I’m on it, okay?” Marco’s eyes were bloodshot, the dark circles beneath them telling of sleepless nights. “But you can’t just storm out of here and go after Luca. Not in your condition.”

“Fuck my condition,” I pushed myself up, the room wavering for a moment before settling into focus. “I’ve been shot before. It never stopped me.”

“Easy, easy,” Marco urged, placing a firm hand on my shoulder and pushing me back down. “You think I don’t want to rip Luca apart myself? But we’re playing a game with no rules now, and running headfirst into danger is exactly what he’d expect.”

“Then we’ll be unpredictable,” I countered, but doubt gnawed at me. Was I really thinking straight? Could I trust my own judgment when every cell in my body screamed for vengeance and reunion with Jade?

“Unpredictable,” Marco mused, his brow furrowing. “Yeah, maybe that’s our angle. But we need more intel, something solid. Right now, we’re grasping at shadows.”

“Get me something I can use.” I was pleading now, desperation edging into my voice. “Anything to lead me to Jade.”

Marco nodded, his resolve hardening. “I will. Just...give me some time.”

“Time is a luxury I don’t have,” I muttered, turning away from him. My heart pounded like a drumbeat, relentless.

“Jesus Christ, Dante,” he said. “Sit down and take a breath, okay? We’ll get her back. But we need you in one piece, alright?”

My gaze met his, the urgency in his eyes mirrored in my own. After a moment, I nodded tersely, relenting to his logic. He was right. As much as it pained me, he was right. I couldn’t help Jade if I was dead.

“I know,” I ground out through gritted teeth. “I just...she’s alone out there, Marco.”

“I know.” His voice was softer now, understanding. He knew what she meant to me, how my world had shifted when she came into it.

With a sigh, he pushed himself off the side of my bed and gave me a pat on the shoulder before heading for the door.

“I’ll get you something as soon as I can,” he promised, pausing at the threshold. “Just hang tight, okay? We won’t let Luca win this.”

But as the door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the sterile silence of the hospital room, I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that they had already won.

Chapter Four: Dante

Marco wasn’t here anymore.

And the longer I waited, the longer she was out there.

Vulnerable. The Carusos could find her. They would kill her to get back at me, I knew that for sure.

I needed to find her first.

I swung my legs over the side of the hospital bed, the sterile white sheets crumpling beneath me. The IV stand beside me was an unwelcome anchor, its contents trickling into my veins with a persistence I had no patience for. “Doc,” I grumbled, fixing the surgeon with a steely glare that ordinarily commanded respect and instigated action, “I’m signing myself out.”

The surgeon, a middle-aged man with a face worn by years of saving lives and losing battles, didn’t flinch. He adjusted his glasses, as though buying time to frame his response. “Mr. Moretti, I can’t advise that. You were shot in the side. Thebullet grazed vital organs. Walking out of here is not just against medical advice—it’s against common sense.”

“Well, it’s not your decision,” I scoffed, the sound rasping out from my throat. The discomfort of the wound was nothing compared to the itch under my skin, the need to move, to act. I couldn’t afford to be laid up here while my world spun on without me. My family, my... responsibilities needed attention. Immediate attention.

“Your body needs to heal,” the surgeon insisted, his voice firm but not unkind. “You risk infection, hemorrhaging—“

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