Page 32 of Ivory Obsession

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Page 32 of Ivory Obsession

“Thanks for the workshop, Edward,” I said, forcing a smile. “It’s... enlightening.”

“Always here to help, Doctor Bentley,” he responded, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly.

As I left the room, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to Edward than his role as our security consultant. What was it about this place, about our work, that demanded such vigilant protection? And why did it feel like, despite the layers of security, we were still exposed?

“Thorough, isn’t he?” Ellie nudged me as we walked back to the lab.

“He’s thorough, I’ll give him that,” I confessed, the words heavy with implications I hadn’t yet fully grasped. “But also. So boring.”

Ellie laughed. “You can say that again.”

The lab was quiet, save for the hum of machines and the occasional bubble from a beaker. I had just finished logging the latest batch of data when Ellie’s voice broke through the silence.

“Jade,” she called out softly, drawing near with a cautious glance over her shoulder. She grabbed my arm, her grip firm yet gentle—a silent plea for attention.

“Ellie?” I asked, startled by the urgency in her eyes.

“Listen to me,” she said, her tone hushed and earnest. “Just be careful, okay? Not just with the tech stuff. People aren’t always what they seem.”

Her words hung between us, a warning veiled as advice. I could see it in her face—the protective fear that seemed out of place in our world of science and research.

“Is there something I should know?” I pressed, searching her expression for clues.

“Just...” She sighed, her gaze softening. “Keep your eyes open, Jade. Trust your gut. And remember, I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, El,” I murmured, squeezing her hand in gratitude. Her concern warmed me, but at the same time, it reinforced the gnawing unease that had settled in my stomach since Edward’s cryptic hints. Was this about Dante? What did Ellie know that I didn’t know?

I couldn’t ask. I knew she wouldn’t tell me.

“Anytime,” Ellie replied, flashing a brief but genuine smile before she turned back to her work.

I stood there for a moment, processing her words. The lab suddenly felt colder, the shadows cast by the evening light stretching ominously across the floor. Maybe I had been naive, too wrapped up in my quest for knowledge to notice the undercurrents flowing through BioHQ.

As I resumed my work, Ellie’s cautionary advice echoed in my mind. People aren’t always what they seem. It was a truth I couldn’t ignore any longer, not if I wanted to survive in this place where science and secrecy intertwined like strands of DNA.

I took a deep breath, resolved to heed Ellie’s warning. The stakes were higher than I had imagined, and I needed to be ready for whatever lay ahead.

And if that meant getting away from Dante…well, it would hurt, but so be it.

Chapter Thirteen: Dante

Isettled my tie, the silk sliding between my fingers with practiced ease. It was a necessary armor for tonight’s battlefield—an art gallery opening with a scientific twist. My reflection in the mirror gave nothing away; the Moretti mask was firmly in place. Tonight wasn’t just about appreciating art. It was about Jade.

Stepping into the gallery, I let my gaze drift across the room, taking in the artworks that flirted with science and tech—a neural circuit here, a DNA helix there. They were breadcrumbs leading to her, to Dr. Jade Bentley, whose mind spun beauty from the threads of biotechnology. The thought tightened something in my chest.

Jade had been cooler lately, her responses to my texts measured, cautious. A game she didn’t know we were playing. It annoyed me, but it also sharpened my focus. I needed her research, and I needed her trust.

“Moretti,” someone called out, pulling me from my thoughts. A businessman whose name I barely remembered. I turned, a practiced smile on my lips. “Didn’t peg you for an art lover.”

“Nor did I peg you for one who enjoys the finer things without lifting them,” I retorted, keeping my voice light.

He laughed. “See you around, Moretti. Enjoy your night.”

“Thought you’d be here,” I said, approaching her. She turned, her gaze locking with mine. Whatever game she thought we were playing, I needed to make sure I won. For both our sakes.

“Do you get recognized a lot?”

“Yes,” I replied. “But you just run into people when you live here. I wouldn’t say I get recognized.”




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