Page 67 of Ivory Obsession
I looked at the workers walking around the construction site. “Yep,” I said. “You’re not wrong. Can you stick around here? I have a feeling Caruso might want to fuck our construction sites over. I can send a couple of guys here, but…”
“No, it’s all good,” he said, smirking at me. “I get a day rate?”
“You don’t need a day rate.”
“And yet…”
I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Yes, you get a day rate,” I said. “And a per diem.”
Marco smiled. “Great,” he said. “I’ll just borrow a hard hat.”
“Right. You don’t need any more brain damage.”
He flipped me off. “Hey, fuck you,” he said with a smile. “That shit’s genetic, so don’t think you’re getting off scot free.”
“Yeah, trust me, I know,” I said, clapping him in the back. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. See you later.”
I had a lot of errands to run, but the evening brought me back to my darkened office—a stark contrast to the bright chaos of the construction site. There was comfort in the solitude, in the familiar scent of ink and leather that filled the room. I keyed open the hidden drawer and pulled out the file marked with the BioHQ insignia, its contents as potent as any weapon in our arsenal.
Every document within it was a step towards legitimacy, towards a life where Jade could exist without the taint of my family’s sins. With each report, each piece of paper that bore our name, I was rewriting our story—one where the Moretti legacy meant more than fear and whispered curses.
If I legitimized everything, then…then she could meet my family. Then she wouldn’t be in danger of getting hurt when I introduced her to my dad or my brother.
This is for you, Jade, I thought, allowing myself a moment to imagine her safe, untouched by the darkness that had cradled me since birth. Her brilliance deserved a world free from the shadows that clung to my every move. It was a world I’d build for her, brick by brick, lie by lie, truth by hard-won truth.
I stowed the file away and locked the drawer, its soft click a punctuation in the silent room. Tomorrow, I’d walk into another boardroom, shake hands smeared neither with blood nor grime, and speak of futures bright with promise. But tonight, it was just me, the quiet, and the singular resolve to reshape the destiny of the Moretti name—for profit, for power, and for Jade.
My mom had invited Marco and I over for dinner, but I could tell it was just an excuse for Enzo to check up on us. Though when my mother invited us for dinner, we didn’t say no.
We valued our lives too much for that.
When I got there, she was in the kitchen finishing up the food. I made my way to Enzo’s study, the door creaking open like a confession. The old man sat behind a mahogany desk that had seen more secrets than a confessional. His eyes flicked up, sharp as ever.
“How’s it progressing?” he asked, his voice betraying nothing but a hint of curiosity.
“Better than expected,” I replied, handing over the financial reports. My fingers brushed against the leather-bound ledgers, thick with the scent of ink and power. “The legitimate fronts are booming, and BioHQ’s little gifts are paying off. We’re on track to eclipse our old income from the rackets within a year.”
Enzo studied the figures, his expression unreadable as he turned each page. Finally, he looked up, and for a moment, I saw something like pride flash in his eyes. “Good work,” he grunted, and that was all the praise I was going to get.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said.
Everything after that happened so quickly. Jade wouldn’t text me, she wouldn’t answer my tests. I didn’t call her. I understood she needed space, even though the desire to reach out to her clawed at me.
A few weeks later, I swapped the dimly lit streets for the sterile glare of corporate America. The boardroom of the pharmaceutical company we now controlled–through a corporation that had been pursuing a merger for four years, but with a nudge in the right direction with some strategic…contributions–was a world away from Little Italy. Here, the sharks wore Armani, not leather jackets, but the glint in their eyes was every bit as cold and calculating as the glint of a gun barrel.
As I took my seat at the head of the table, I felt the shift in me. The transition from mafia prince to corporate mogul was seamless; it was a game of power, just played on a different board. The executives eyed me warily, sensing the predator beneath the polished exterior.
“Our focus will be on neurogenetic research,” I announced, my voice calm and decisive. It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order, and they all knew it. The BioHQ data had given us an edge, and I intended to use it. Every nod around the table was another piece moving into place, another silent victory.
“Are there any objections?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Silence greeted me, confirming my control was as absolute here as it was on the streets. I allowed myself a small, satisfied smile. This was the future—a future where the Moretti name didn’t echo with the sound of gunshots and whispered threats.
It was a future I could offer to Jade, if only she’d take it.
The city never really slept, but as night cloaked it in a deceptive calm, I found myself alone in the penthouse that scraped the heavens. The view stretched out like a canvas of flickering lights and dreams just out of reach. In that moment, with a glass of scotch in hand, I was both master and servant to the life I had carved out.
I savored the taste, the warmth spilling down my throat, a fleeting comfort against the cold reality. Each sip was a reminder of the duality I juggled—mafia don by night, entrepreneur by day. Jade was the linchpin to it all, the reason for this double-edged existence. I did it all so that the shadows would only ever kiss her edges, never swallow her whole.