Page 14 of Ivory Legacy
“Thanks.” I pocketed the precious stub of paper and turned away, my resolve hardening. There was no room for hesitation, only the unyielding will to disappear into the night, to a place where the reach of the Moretti family might falter, where the whispers of my past wouldn’t haunt me.
As I walked towards the gate, the weight of my backpack felt grounding, a reminder of the tangible, of the reality that I was moving forward, one step at a time. Harbor’s End was just the beginning, a mere stopover in my flight towards freedom—or whatever semblance of it I could grasp with trembling hands.
Chapter Seven: Dante
“Jade!”
My voice, raw with panic, bounced off the high ceilings of the penthouse as I flipped the couch with a single-handed heave. Cushions tumbled to the floor like fallen soldiers in my fruitless search for her. The room bore the chaos of my despair—drawers yanked from dressers, picture frames askew, the contents of her bedside table scattered across the carpet.
“Damn it, Jade, where are you?” I muttered to no one, my hands clenching into fists. She was gone. I knew that. The silence of the apartment screamed it louder than the storm brewing within me.
I stormed over to the shattered remains of my phone on the marble floor. Dropping to my knees, I pieced together enough of the device to track hers. A glow flickered to life, and the screen confirmed what I dreaded: Grand Central Station.
How the hell had my phone ended up here? How had it ended up shattered?
Fuck it. It didn’t matter.
I needed to find her…I could worry about my phone later.
Dropping to my knees, I pieced together enough of the device to track hers. A glow flickered to life, and the screen confirmed what I dreaded: Grand Central Station.
“Of course, she’d go there,” I snarled under my breath. It was public, swarming with people—an ideal place to get lost, or worse, found by someone else.
Ignoring the pulse of pain from the wound in my side, I slipped into a jacket and palmed a fresh phone from the drawer. It would be a cold day in hell before I let her slip through my fingers. I locked up the penthouse, each click of the locks a countdown to finding her.
The streets of New York were just shaking off the remnants of sleep, but I moved like a man possessed, driven by a cocktail of rage and concern. Each step shot fire through my side where a bullet had grazed me days earlier—a parting gift from a rival too foolish to aim properly. But I welcomed the pain; it kept me sharp, fueled my need to find her before anyone else did.
Slowing down wasn’t an option. Not when every second could mean the difference between having her in my arms or losing her to the city’s gaping maw. With the Moretti name comes enemies hidden in shadows, waiting for a moment of vulnerability. And Jade, with her intelligent eyes and stubborn will, was now my greatest vulnerability.
“Grand Central, don’t fail me now,” I grunted, pushing open the doors to the terminal. The morning light filtered through the expansive windows, casting the grandeur of the station in soft relief. But the beauty of the place was lost on me. All I saw were potential hiding spots, escape routes, dangers.
“Find her,” I commanded myself, jaw set, as I began the hunt through the heart of the bustling crowd.
The chaos of Grand Central was a stark contrast to the stillness of my penthouse, now void of Jade’s presence. But here in the thronging heart of New York City, I stalked through the crowd with singular focus. I scanned every face, every hurried step, searching for any trace of her.
My senses were sharp despite the searing pain from my wound, and I absorbed every detail—the scent of coffee that did nothing to mask the underlying smell of city grime, the clamor of voices announcing departures, the clack of heels on marble floors. There was no sign of Jade’s soft waves of dark hair or the purposeful stride she used when deep in thought.
“Damn it,” I muttered under my breath. I pulled out the tracking app on my phone, the blip representing Jade’s location mocking me with its stagnant position. The station was a maze of possibilities, each one disappearing as quickly as I latched onto it.
With methodical precision, I moved towards the main information booth, the epicenter of movement where paths diverged and converged in a constant stream of humanity. It had been the last place her phone pinged before going silent. A clever move—a drop in an ocean of people, all moving to their own rhythms.
I pressed the heel of my hand against my temple, trying to channel Jade’s logical mind, her knack for seeing patterns in chaos. If she were here, she’d have analyzed the situation with scientific detachment, calculating odds and dismissing unlikely scenarios without sentimentality.
If she wasn’t afraid of me. And…she was. She was probably afraid of the police too and there was a part of me that thought I should probably be…grateful. But I wasn’t grateful. I wanted her.
I needed her.
She couldn’t just leave me. Not when she was pregnant with my child.
I stopped short, my breath hitching—not from the wound this time but from realization. Her phone lay discarded by a pillar, screen cracked, a deliberate breadcrumb meant to be found. My chest tightened with a mixture of fury and respect. She’d played me at my own game, leaving a false trail to follow while she vanished into the early morning haze of the city.
“Smart girl,” I growled, the words tasting like bile. Betrayal stung sharper than any blade, and my fists clenched until my knuckles whitened. I kicked the phone away, hearing it skitter across the floor, lost now in the shuffle of feet.
I turned back to the crowd, eyes narrowed, ready to pick up the chase. Every tick of the clock, every heartbeat, was a reminder that time was slipping through my fingers like sand.
“Where are you, Jade Bentley?” I vowed silently, “I will find you, no matter what it takes.”
But I wasn’t going to find an answer here. I needed to go speak to someone who would know where she was, and the only person that I could think about was Ellie.