6. Chapter Six Dante
Chapter Six: Dante
T his was an incredibly important part of my plan.
If they bought this, I could keep Jade hidden away for longer. I could keep her protected.
The moment I stepped into the sterile BioHQ conference room, the sharp click of my shoes on pristine tile was like shots fired in silence. My suit, tailored to every muscle it concealed, was both shield and statement—here stood Dante Moretti, a man who demanded respect without uttering a single word.
“Good morning,” I said, letting my voice roll out smooth and sure, a contrast to the stiff-backed suits eyeing me with veiled distrust. “I appreciate you all accommodating my presence today.” I let my gaze settle on each board member, holding their attention, making sure they felt the weight of my stare. The room bristled with the kind of tension that usually precedes a storm, yet I remained as calm as the eye of it.
“Dr. Jade Bentley,” I began, letting her name hang in the air for a moment to gather gravity, “has requested seclusion to focus intensely on her groundbreaking genome research.” My tone was flat, brokering no argument, yet rich with the promise of what that research could yield. “The Moretti labs are proud to sponsor such innovation, and we have made a substantial investment in BioHQ to ensure the project’s success.”
I watched them closely, searching their faces for any sign of dissent. What I saw instead was interest—a flicker here, a nod there—sparked by the mention of innovation and the unspoken language of money. These were scientists, yes, but they were not immune to the allure of funding that my family could provide. It seemed greed could indeed be a universal language, one spoken as fluently in this boardroom as it was on the streets where my family reigned.
“Your support is invaluable,” Dr. Lawson spoke up, his voice tinged with the newfound enthusiasm that money often inspired. It was almost amusing, watching these pillars of science sway under the golden influence. They’d fight tooth and nail for grants and recognition, but lay down their arms when the Moretti coffers opened.
“Of course,” I replied, my lips twitching upward in the ghost of a smirk. “We all strive for progress, do we not?” I let the words settle, a subtle reminder that their cooperation was just as beneficial to them as it was to the Moretti interests.
There’s power in holding the purse strings; I knew that better than anyone. And as much as they might loathe to admit it, so did they.
I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking softly under my weight. My gaze shifted to Dr. Prakesh, a woman whose reputation for brilliance was matched only by her steely resolve. I had done a lot of research on her and I respected that about her—she had backbone. “Dr. Prakesh,” I began, offering her the nod of recognition she deserved. “Jade’s work is paramount, and distractions are a luxury we cannot afford.”
Her eyes met mine, sharp and calculating. There was a flicker there, a silent conversation passing between us. She understood the stakes, the unspoken gravity behind my words. Jade’s absence from BioHQ might raise eyebrows, but it would shield her from the politics and threats lurking within these walls.
And, more importantly, it would shield her from Lorenzo Caruso.
Dr. Prakesh’s posture remained unaffected, as if carved from stone, but her eyes gave away the slightest hint of agreement. “I understand, Mr. Moretti.” Her voice was even, controlled. “If Dr. Bentley requires time away to further her project, we can accommodate that.”
I nodded, satisfied. It was almost too easy, the way these academic types seemed to think they were playing the game, not realizing they were pawns on my chessboard. But then again, wasn’t that the beauty of power? The ability to orchestrate without ever letting the orchestra see you conduct.
“Thank you, Doctor,” I said, standing up to signal the end of the meeting. “Your cooperation is appreciated.” I didn’t need to elaborate; the subtext was clear. In this world of ours, you were either with the Morettis or against them. And nobody in their right mind wanted to be against us.
I almost exited the room, the click of the door behind me as final as a judge’s gavel. Dr. Prakesh had come through, her support swaying the rest of the board like dominoes tipping in my favor.
“Mr. Moretti,” I heard just as I reached for the handle of the exit, the voice more hesitant than confrontational but enough to halt my steps.
I turned, locking eyes with the man who dared to delay me. “Yes?” My eyebrow raised in silent challenge.
He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses as if they could shield him from what was coming. “But Dante,” he started, and there it was—the flicker of fear that told me he knew exactly who he was dealing with. “Unfortunately, removing Jade from our facilities—“
“Is in the best interest of her project,” I cut in smoothly, my piercing gaze holding Dr. White hostage. The room fell silent, the tension strumming like a taut string about to snap. My eyes swept past him for just a moment, catching sight of a man with a name badge that said “Edward Rodriguez” on it. He didn’t look like an investor or part of the board—his presence was slightly confusing. But then, that was not my concern at the moment. Flicking my attention back to Dr. White, I waited for his response.
Dr. White swallowed audibly. His protest withered under my stern look, and he nodded weakly, confirming his submission without uttering another word.
“Good.” I fixed him with one final glance, ensuring my message was crystal clear. Then, without another word, I turned on my heel and strode out of the room, leaving the stench of fear and the silent echoes of power behind me.
The meeting had gone exactly as planned, the board bending to my will with the ease of a blade slicing through silk. But as I stepped out into the cool corridor, the steel in my spine softened at the thought of Jade. Her passion for her work was the one pure thing in this cessary of deceit and darkness that my family called business.
I drove home as I thought about her. She was too good for this world, her eyes shining with the promise of change, a better future—a stark contrast to the shadows we Morettis cast. The guilt was an unexpected guest in my heart, sitting heavy like a stone. I’d brought her into this, fed her ambition with lies wrapped in truth, all for the family’s gain. And yet, as she spoke of enzymes and genetic codes, I couldn’t help but believe in the sincerity of her dreams.
And fuck…the baby. We were tied together for the rest of our lives, because of the baby.
I took the private elevator up to my penthouse, letting out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. The doors slid open to a view of the city that never failed to remind me I was on top of the world—yet tonight, it seemed hollow, almost mocking.
I poured myself a whiskey from the crystal decanter, the amber liquid glinting in the low light. Each sip scorched a path down my throat, a welcome burn that mirrored the tumult within me. I moved towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, the sprawling city under the shroud of night sprawling before me like a kingdom.
There were no stars in New York’s sky, just the endless dance of neon pretending to be celestial. I should’ve felt like a king, but instead, I stood there, a man caught between two worlds—one where power and loyalty ruled, and another that whispered promises of something more, something dangerously close to hope.
Marco was right. I hadn’t even taken…one minute to be happy about Jade being pregnant. About becoming a dad.
But I didn’t go to her. Not yet. She knew I was home; the sound of my arrival was not something easily missed.
And so I waited, the night stretching on, the whiskey slowly losing its battle to numb the disquiet in my soul.
I rapped my knuckles against the solid oak door of Jade’s office, a rhythmic tap-tap that echoed the uneven thrumming in my chest. The door creaked open, and there she stood, her dark hair cascading over the shoulders of her Pink Floyd shirt.
“Care for a drink?” I asked, tilting my head towards the living area of my penthouse.
“I’m pregnant.”
“I know,” I said. “I meant a non-alcoholic drink. I assume you’ve had a long day.”
“I have.”
“Then I got just the thing,” I said, leading her to the plush couch. I went to get a Mexican coke from my fridge, then I poured the fizzy drink into a crystal glass, watching the bubbles dance their frenzied ascent before handing it to her.
“Thanks,” she murmured, taking the glass. Her fingers brushed against mine, sending a rush of heat through me.
“How are your headaches?” I asked.
She shook her head. “They suck,” she said. “Dr. Byrd said that they’re common in early pregnancy, especially with the hormonal changes and increased blood circulation. Hopefully, they’ll pass soon.”
The worry in her eyes was echoed in the crease between her brows, a vulnerable admission that tugged at something inside me. I reached out, brushing my thumb against that crease as if I could smooth it away. “Is there anything I can do?”
Jade gave a small shrug, managing a wry grin. “I don’t know. Going for a walk outside might be nice.”
“Then let’s go for a walk,” I said, standing up and offering her my hand. She looked surprised but took it nonetheless. I could feel her pulse against my palm, slightly elevated, another reminder of the life growing inside her.
“Right now?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“Jade, you’re here for your own protection,” I said. “You’re not a prisoner. If you want to go out, we can just go out together. As long as you don’t try to run…”
“I won’t,” she replied, her gaze meeting mine with a firm conviction that almost made me believe her. Almost.
“Good,” I said, leading her towards the elevator and summoning it with a press of the button. “Here’s your coat.”
“Thank you,” she said, grabbing it and putting it on.
As we stood waiting, I caught sight of our reflection in the polished steel doors—her petite frame tucked next to my broad shoulders, her dark hair cascading down in curls, her soft curves accentuated by the shirt she wore. She was beautiful, breathtakingly so—a fact that had never escaped me.
The doors slid open, and we stepped inside. The ride down was quiet, save for the hum of the elevator descending floors and the occasional growl of thunder outside. Before the elevator dinged, I grabbed her hand.
“Okay,” I said, smiling at her. “Let’s go for that walk.”
She hesitated for a second. Then she smiled back.