Page 85 of Ivory Obsession
Dante, all casual in his boxers, seemed unfazed by our standoff. His nonchalance was a slap in the face, the reality of who he was—and what he was capable of—suddenly undeniable.
This was Dante Moretti in the flesh: charming, lethal, and utterly indifferent to the turmoil he inflicted. And I, Dr. Jade Bentley, was caught in the crosshairs of a life I never signed up for, my heart warring with my head over a man who was both my haven and my hell.
I squared my shoulders as Dante leaned against the counter, his posture so relaxed you’d never guess our world was in free fall.
“I was working, Jade,” he said.
“Working on what?” I asked him.
“My job is none of your business,” he shot back, the words hitting me like a bucket of ice water.
“None of my business?” I echoed, the tremble in my voice betraying the storm within. “You were doing it in my house. It feels like my business.”
“Jade,” he began, his voice a velvet caress that contrasted sharply with the hard lines of his jaw. “You know I can’t just—“
“Leave,” I cut him off, my voice sharper than I intended, a scalpel to the heart. “I need you to leave.” The words hung heavy between us, the air dense with the things left unsaid.
That’s what I should have done last night…but the man was really, really good with his mouth.
Dante’s gaze pinned me in place, as if he could see right through the façade I struggled to maintain. His eyes held mine, and for a moment, I saw the flicker of something vulnerable, something human, before it was quickly masked by the stoic exterior he wore like armor.
“Jade,” he said again, softer this time, but I stood my ground.
“Please,” I whispered, clutching the fabric of my shirt as if it could somehow fortify me against the ache in my chest. A single tear escaped, traitorous and hot against my cool cheek. “Get out of my apartment.”
“I’m going to get dressed first,” he said.
“Fine,” I snapped back, retreating from the kitchen. The taste of coffee, usually so comforting, now tainted with bitterness. I could feel his gaze on me, burning holes into my back as I moved away. A part of me wanted to turn around, to run back and throw my arms around him. But the cold, hard truth was cutting through the fog of my emotions.
He emerged a few moments later, fully dressed in the suit he had worn the night before. I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as he moved towards the exit, each step echoing in the chilling silence.
He left.
The click of the door closing sliced through the silence like a verdict, final and unappealing. I stood frozen in the kitchen, the chill of the tiles seeping into my bare feet. The space around me felt too vast suddenly, as if the apartment had grown, walls stretching with Dante’s absence.
I moved mechanically to the sofa, my limbs heavy, drained from the tension that had cocooned us. Collapsing onto the cushions, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Around me, the room was still, the only sound the soft hum of the refrigerator acting as the metronome to my rapid heartbeat.
My hands, shaking slightly, found their way to my stomach. There was nothing to see, no bump to betray the secret nestled inside me, but it was there—a life, an innocent tethered to a world it had no part in choosing. My mind raced with the possibilities, every one of them tinged with fear and what-ifs.
I needed to…do something else. Anything else.
I needed to stop worrying about Dante and start worrying about my own fucking life.
And about my child.
Chapter Thirty-Seven: Jade
Icouldn’t shake the unease that clawed at my insides as I approached the imposing glass façade of BioHQ. I was lost in my own thoughts until I saw all the police cruises parked outside. The flashing red and blue lights reflecting on the icy ground felt like a punch in my gut. I knew instantly that something had gone horribly wrong.
But the sirens weren’t on, the lights weren’t even flashing.
The officers were quietly conversing, their breath like smoke in the cold night air. The place was crawling with them, blue uniforms against the stark concrete. Their faces were grim, their eyes hiding secrets that I wasn’t privy to. I felt my heart pound in my chest as I stepped out of the shadows and moved towards them.
The place I had devoted countless hours to was now a stage for something sinister. A charged hush hung over the clusters of my colleagues; their usual morning banter was now just anxious murmurs that skittered through the chilled autumn air like fallen leaves.
“Something’s wrong,” I whispered to myself, my breath clouding in front of me. I quickened my pace, the click of my heels on the pavement sharp and urgent. I hadn’t slept well; images from last night’s heated exchange with Dante kept replaying in my mind—his smoldering gaze, the hard lines of his jaw tensing as he spoke in that gravelly voice that always seemed to find its way under my skin.
The revolving doors spun me into the lobby, and I was hit by an atmosphere thick with anxiety. It wasn’t the familiar hum of productivity but a discordant symphony of hushed voices and the clatter of security measures being ramped up. Detectives, with their keen eyes and notebooks at the ready, stood among our own security staff, who looked more on edge than I’d ever seen them.