Page 69 of Ivory Crown
“Curious how?” I ventured, my curiosity piqued despite the unease that knotted in my stomach.
“Well, he knows you’re pregnant,” he said. “So does my dad. I think it’s probably better if you meet Marco before you meet my parents. He’s not normal, but he is the most normal of them all.”
“Aren’t you the most normal?”
He laughed. “Oh, God, I hope not,” he replied. “That would be terrifying.”
“And what is he so curious about?”
“Curious to know if you’re a threat or an asset, I suppose,” Dante admitted, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the cabin of the car. “But don’t worry, I’ll be there. You’re with me.”
The reassurance should have eased my nerves, but instead, it was like a silent acknowledgment of the dangers that lay in the shadows of Dante’s world. A world where trust was both currency and weapon. And here I was, about to step further into the lion’s den, draped in a blue dress that felt like armor crafted from silk and vulnerability.
As the cityscape blurred past us, skyscrapers giving way to the less opulent parts of town, I clutched at the door handle, feeling the cool leather beneath my fingers—a stark contrast to the warmth emanating from Dante.
“Jade?” Dante’s voice pulled me back from my spiraling thoughts. “You okay?”
I nodded, forcing a smile as I met his probing gaze. “Just...thinking.”
“About what?”
“Everything. This. Us.” The words slipped out before I could catch them, and I braced for his reaction.
Dante’s hand left the steering wheel for a moment, landing briefly on my knee—a touch that sent a jolt through me, grounding me to the moment. “We’ll figure it out,” he said, his voice a blend of determination and something softer, something that made my heart thrum faster.
I turned my head, watching the streets change as we delved deeper into territory marked by the invisible stamps of Dante’s family.
And for a split second, all I wanted to do was believe him.
Chapter Forty: Jade
The hospital smelled like antiseptic…but I was more at home here than I had ever been at Dante’s penthouse.
I edged closer to Marco’s bed, my heart pounding like it wanted out. The sterile scent of the hospital room clawed at my nostrils as I watched over him, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm beneath the thin gown. Dante leaned against the doorframe, a silent sentinel clad in a suit that must have cost more than most folks earn in a month.
“Hey, you’re Jade, right?” Marco’s voice was weak but held a hint of warmth, dispelling the chill of the cold, clinical walls around us.
“Yeah, that’s me.” I forced a smile, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “And you must be Marco. Dante’s told me quite a bit about you.”
“Only the good stuff, I hope,” he chuckled, then winced as if laughter was a luxury his body couldn’t afford right now.
“Of course,” I said, sitting down beside on a chair beside his bed. I glanced at Dante; those dark eyes bore into his brother with a fierceness that made me wonder what kind of bond could make a man look like that at someone else.
“Nice dress,” Marco mumbled, referring to the blue fabric hugging my curves, a poor attempt at small talk but, whatever, I’d take it.
“Thanks,” I replied, playing along while my brain ticked away. This was more than idle chit-chat; this was my shot at freedom. With every passing second, I had to be one step ahead, fishing for details without raising suspicion.
“Must be nice, getting out,” Marco continued, oblivious to the internal clock ticking away in my head. “Hospitals are so fucking boring.”
“Yeah, it’s nice sometimes,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant. But inside, I was cataloging everything—the way Dante stood, how many steps from the bed to the door, the slight droop in Marco’s eyelids that told me he was drugged up and vulnerable.
“Jade’s been a real trooper, sticking by my side,” Dante interjected, pushing off from the door and stepping closer. His presence loomed large in the cramped space, a stark reminder of the world I found myself tangled in—a world where men like him called the shots and women like me ended up as collateral.
“I just know he’s a nightmare,” Marco said to me. “You really are a trooper.”
“Hey,” Dante said.
“Sorry, I’ve been shot, I’m allowed to tell her the truth.”