Page 48 of Ivory Obsession
I slouched in the leather chair, my head tipped back, eyes closed. The silence of the room was a cruel joke—it did nothing to quiet the war raging inside me. I pinched the bridge of my nose, a useless attempt to stave off my growing headache.
“Jade,” I whispered her name like a prayer, or maybe a curse.
The taste of betrayal soured my mouth, and I couldn’t shake the image of Jade’s face when she’d learn the truth—that every tender moment shared was laced with deception. My gut churned at the thought.
“Tonight, everything changes,” I murmured, steeling myself for the confession that would either set us free or tear us apart. I pictured her sitting across from me, the soft glow of candlelight making her dark hair shine like obsidian. How could I break the heart of someone who saw the world with such clarity and hope?
“Jade, there’s something about me you don’t know,” I practiced under my breath, each word heavier than the last. I ditched the charm, the easy smiles—none of that had a place here. This was raw, unvarnished truth I was dealing with.
“I need you to leave. Get out of New York. You’re in danger here.”
Yeah, I didn’t think she was going to listen to me. I let out a long breath, bracing for the fallout. My heart hammered, but somewhere underneath the fear, there was a flicker of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she’d see the man I was trying to be, not the one I had been.
I didn’t know what exactly I had to tell her–but I could tell her something. A little bit.
Just enough to keep her safe.
And then, maybe, she would forgive me. If I was lucky.
If she was a better person than me. I sure as fuck wouldn’t forgive me if I were her.
I locked the file with a final click, the sound echoing in the silence of my office. The research data, Jade’s life’s work, sat encrypted on my laptop—a symbol of betrayal that weighed heavy on my conscience. I had spilled her secrets to the Moretti family, and regret gnawed at me like a hungry rat.
“Keep your friends close, and your files closer,” I muttered to myself.
The evening air was crisp as I flicked off the lights and headed to my room. Tonight’s attire required more thought than usual—a suit that had to speak of remorse and hope in equal measure. I slid open the closet, hands brushing over fabric until they paused on the dark blue suit. Perfect. It matched the depth of Jade’s eyes—the ones I’d have to look into as I laid bare my sins.
Dressing was methodical, each button fastened with precision, each crease smoothed out meticulously. The man staring back from the mirror was one I barely recognized.
Tired, old, scruffy.
“Tonight you’re just a man, Dante, not a damned capo,” I told my reflection, straightening my tie.
“Let’s do this,” I said, slipping on my jacket. My heart thudded against my ribs, a reminder of what was at stake—everything.
With a deep breath, I grabbed the keys from the dresser. It was time to face the music, and whatever tune it played, I was ready to dance.
The engine’s hum was a steady backdrop to my restless thoughts as I navigated the streets of New York, autumn painting the city in hues of fire and gold. Inside the car, I rehearsed my confession, my voice low and earnest against the silence.
“Jade, there’s something I need to tell you,” I started, gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles whitened. The words felt clumsy, too coarse for the delicate truth they had to convey. “What we have...it’s real to me. And I’ve done something that might wreck it.”
With each run-through, my heart raced like I was closing in on a deal with life itself as the wager. Jade meant more than a fling, more than a strategic move. She was the unexpected calm, a serenity I hadn’t known I craved.
Parking outside her place, I took a moment to gather myself, my breath fogging up the windshield. In my hands lay a bouquet of deep red roses, lush and vibrant—a stark contrast to the knot of dread in my gut. They were a symbol, an olive branch extended before the battle of confessions began.
I stepped out into the crisp evening air, straightening my jacket as I approached the door of her building. I called the elevator and tried to take deep breaths. My palms were sweating, betraying the cool exterior I fought to maintain. This wasn’t just about spilling secrets; it was about laying my heart at the feet of a woman who could either embrace it or crush it beneath her heel.
I approached her apartment. I rang the bell, the sound echoing through the quiet hallway. There was no turning back now. I braced myself, ready for the door to swing open, ready for the light in her eyes that always seemed to pierce right through my armor. It was time to face whatever came next—be it absolution or ruin.
The click of the lock echoed a welcome, and the door swung open. There she stood, Jade, with that smile that could throw the darkest shadows off kilter. “Hi,” she said, her voice a soft melody against the hum of the city night.
“Hey,” I managed, my throat tight as I handed her the roses. Her eyes lit up, like the first break of dawn over a restless sea, and for a second, all my fears drowned in the depth of her gaze.
“Thank you, Dante, they’re beautiful.” She stepped aside, ushering me into the warmth of her place.
“You look beautiful,” I said as I looked at her.
She blushed at the compliment, casting her eyes down before she looked back up at me. “Thank you,” she said, her voice soft.