Page 70 of Ivory Obsession
Had pregnancy made me weirdly paranoid? Probably. No, definitely.
Ellie leaned in, whispering, “Jade, stay calm. We’ve got this.”
But I could barely hear her over the blood rushing in my ears, my gaze fixed on Rodriguez, who stood off to the side. His smile was gone now, replaced by an apologetic shrug that did nothing to ease my annoyance. How could someone so useless be tasked with protecting us? Wasn’t he supposed to be some sort of IT expert?
“Sorry folks, just a little hiccup,” I managed to say, forcing a smile for the audience. The rest of the session passed in a blur, my responses automatic, my mind elsewhere. Protecting my baby, my work, myself—that was all that mattered now.
As the final question hung in the air, I felt Ellie’s eyes on me. Her concern was a tangible thing, and it took all my will to not let the fear show on my face. When the last round of applause echoed through the hall, signaling the end of the panel, I let out a deep, shuddering breath.
“You need to relax, Jade. You’ve done great today. Let’s just focus on the positive,” Ellie suggested with a reassuring smile.
“Easy for you to say,” I muttered, but I nodded at her, attempting to push aside the doubts and anxieties clawing at my insides. The room was bathed in the late afternoon sun, its warm glow a stark reminder that life outside this conference was waiting for me—life with its dark corners and uncertainties.
The hall slowly emptied, leaving behind scattered chairs and the faint smell of industrial cleaner. As we gathered our things, I couldn’t shake the sense of exposure that clung to me. I was pregnant, vulnerable in ways I’d never been before. The weight of impending motherhood was like an anchor, dragging me into depths of worry I fought to ignore.
“Let’s head out,” Ellie said, handing me my coat. “We can talk strategy over dinner, maybe unwind a bit.”
“Thanks, El,” I replied, feeling undeserving of her steadfast loyalty. The questions about Rodriguez’s presence spun around in my mind, each one a potential threat to the life growing inside me.
As Ellie led the way out of the conference room, I followed closely, the exhaustion of the day seeping into my bones. This pregnancy wasn’t just another challenge; it was a paradigm shift, forcing me to confront the risks I’d blithely ignored before.
I missed Dante then, his absence more pronounced amidst the crowd’s dispersal. He would’ve known what to do, would’ve shielded me from this cold dread with his easy confidence.
…or he would have held me down and fingered me until I came while I stared into his eyes. Right.
Probably that one.
The conference center’s sliding doors sighed shut behind us, releasing Ellie and me into the evening’s embrace. Fresh air licked at my cheeks, a respite from the day’s sweltering debates and dense crowds. I drew in a breath, letting it out slow, trying to shake the weight of being watched.
“Feels good, doesn’t it? To be out of there,” Ellie remarked, her eyes squinting against the dying light. “But you crushed it.”
I didn’t say anything, shielding my eyes from the sun with the palm of my hand. “Jade?”
I blinked, forcing a smile for Ellie. “Just tired.”
Ellie cocked her head. “Are you sure? Because…”
I turned my head to look at her. Maybe she couldn’t help, but maybe I’d feel lighter if I’d told someone. Anyone.
And I knew that Ellie would keep my secret no matter what. “Actually,” I said, biting on my lower lip. “Let’s go grab that bite. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Chapter Thirty: Dante
The steady tap-tap-tap of my fingers on the desk always helped me think. That was until the sound was cut by a knock, sharp and urgent. I looked up as Luca slipped through the door, his face etched with lines of worry that didn’t belong there. I’d gone to the office for the first time in what felt like months because I couldn’t keep working from home just to think about Jade, which meant that I saw my men a lot more often than when I had first started seeing her.
“Boss,” he said, voice tight, thrusting a stack of papers at me.
I took them, feeling the shift in the air. “What’s this?”
“Trouble. Lorenzo Caruso’s not sitting pretty anymore.”
Luca’s news hit hard, a punch to the gut. My hands, steady as stone till now, faltered as I flipped through the report. The bastard had made moves in Little Italy, our Little Italy. His men were burrowed into the businesses like rats, claiming turf we’d bled for.
“Christ,” I muttered, rage simmering in my veins as I read on. Each word on the page was another move in his power play, a silent battle cry. This wasn’t just a scuffle over streets; it was war, plain and simple. “Did you put this together?”
“Yeah, boss,” he said. “You told me to keep an eye on Lorenzo, right?”
“Sit,” I told him. Luca did as he was told, cocking his head and waiting for me to say something.