Page 84 of Ivory Obsession
Chapter Thirty-Six: Jade
Iwas so exhausted.
At some point, Dante had rolled off me.
Sunlight snuck in through the curtains, a traitor to the darkness of my thoughts. I blinked away the remnants of sleep, the soft cotton of my pajama shirt rumpled against my skin. A chill crept along my spine as last night’s whispered horrors tangled with the morning’s quiet.
Lying there, the afterglow of Dante’s touch still lingered on my body, a deceitful comfort. He had drawn moan after moan from me, each one a veil over the sinister truths I’d stumbled upon. The words spoken behind the bathroom door clawed their way back into my consciousness, Dante’s low voice a soundtrack to the nightmare.
Clipped.
That word hung in my mind, repeating like a broken record. The ache wasn’t just from the betrayal; it was the confirmation, the solidification of the fears I’d danced around since meeting Dante. He belonged to a world painted in shades of blood and obedience, a world I’d pretended could be separated from the man who held me at night.
I sat up, pushing the sheets away, feeling the morning air kiss my skin. It was a stark reminder, a cold slap of reality against the tender flesh of ignorance. My heart thumped a heavy beat, acknowledging the truth I’d sidestepped for too long – Dante Moretti, lover, confidant... mafia.
I swung my legs out of bed, the room tilting slightly as I stood. I braced myself against the dresser, the reflection in the mirror a woman caught at the crossroads of her own conscience. Could I continue to turn a blind eye, pretend that the whispers of violence were just nightmares spun by my imagination?
Maybe I could. Maybe if I wasn’t pregnant with his child.
No. I was Jade Bentley, a woman of science, of facts. And the fact was, Dante had never been just a businessman. He was a Moretti, through and through. The realization gnawed at my insides, a bitter pill coated in the intimacy we’d shared. And now, with daylight as my witness, I couldn’t unhear or unsee the reality of his world – our world.
I steadied my breath, a practiced calm settling over my features as I sifted through my wardrobe. The soft silk of my pajama shirt clung to me, a tactile reminder of the night’s restless sleep. Selecting a pair of jeans and a blouse that projected confidence, I dressed with deliberate care, each button fastened, each crease smoothed out, just as I arranged my thoughts.
With each measured pace toward the living room, the distance felt like miles, every step sinking into a morass of doubt and fear. My heart raced, a frenetic drumbeat drowning out the silence of the apartment. What would I say? How could I confront the man whose very presence twisted my insides with both dread and desire?
But confront him I must. There were no more excuses, no more ignorance to hide behind. Dante’s world had bled into mine, staining the fabric of our relationship with secrets too dark to ignore. And somewhere between the love and the lies, I had to find the truth—for both of us.
No. For all three of us.
I left my bedroom and watched him move around my kitchen. This normalcy now seemed like such a farce.
The rich scent wrapped around me, a comforting lie that stood in stark contradiction to the chaos churning inside.
“Good morning, beautiful,” he said, barely looking over his shoulder. I was sure this would have been easier if he was wearing more than just his boxers, but the sight of him - the delineated muscles beneath his skin, the crucifix tattoo on his chest, the dark ink lines wrapped around his biceps - it was all a stark reminder of the night before, of his touch, his taste. It was an alluring distraction that I fought to ignore.
“Dante,” I began, my fingers worrying at the hem of my shirt. His dark gaze fell on me, a curious smile playing at the corner of his lips. My heart pounded in my chest as I met his eyes, as though every beat echoed my resolve, steeling me for what was to come.
“Yes?” His voice reverberated through the spacious room. The very air between us seemed to thrum with anticipation.
“We need to talk.” My words hung in the air, heavy with so much unsaid. His expression flickered, a guarded look replacing his relaxed demeanor.
He put the carafe down. “Why?”
“It’s important,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. I watched him closely, his expression unreadable as he turned fully to face me.
“Alright then.” Dante slid a mug of coffee across the counter towards me - as if this was any normal morning. As if my world wasn’t about to shatter the moment I opened my mouth.
I moved closer, ignoring the warmth emanating from the cup and focused on the man standing before me. His tousled hair, his relaxed posture, his piercing gaze... All seemingly out of place in the kitchen of a simple scientist like me.
I cleared my throat, every cell in my body screaming at me to retreat. To crawl back into bed and pretend none of this was real. But I couldn’t cling to that blissful ignorance any longer. I had a child to protect...our child.
“Tell me I didn’t hear what I think I did,” I said, the words sharp, even as they trembled on the brink of something more vulnerable.
Dante turned, his expression unreadable, eyes locking onto mine. The silence stretched between us, thick enough to choke on. He played dumb. “Hear what?”
My pulse hammered, betraying the calm I fought so hard to maintain. “Last night. In the bathroom...talking about clipping someone.” I hated how my voice cracked.
He smirked, a flicker of amusement crossing his face. “You shouldn’t eavesdrop, Jade. It’s rude, especially through a closed door.”