17. Chapter Seventeen Dante
Chapter Seventeen: Dante
I pushed open the door to the coffee shop, the crisp air of an autumn morning in New York clinging like a lingering ghost to my overcoat. The familiar scent of roasted coffee beans hit me as soon as I stepped inside, a welcome reprieve from the biting chill outside. This little spot, just down the block from my penthouse, was one of the few places where I could steal moments of peace away from the empire that demanded every ounce of my attention.
“Regular cappuccino and a mocha frappucino, right?” The barista didn’t need to ask; she already knew the order by heart.
“Throw in a couple of those chocolate pastries, too,” I said, thinking of Jade’s sweet tooth.
My eyes swept the room as I waited, taking in everything and everyone as second nature dictated. It’s funny how these things become part of you—scanning for threats, weighing opportunities—it’s the lifeblood of my world. And then I saw him.
A man, odd and familiar, sat at a back table, his jacket falling open just enough to reveal the badge clipped to his belt. The sight of it sent a jolt through me, sharp and unwelcome. Where had I seen that face? Then it clicked—an uninvited memory of him sitting across the boardroom during one of the BioHQ merger meetings.
His head lifted, and our gazes collided. There wasn’t any mistaking it—he knew who I was. But what the hell was he doing here?
“Your order, Dante,” The barista’s voice brought me back, placing a paper bag and two cups on the counter.
“Thanks,” I muttered, my thoughts racing, but my face remained a mask of calm. I had to keep it together, not let on anything was wrong. I started to grab the pastries as I thought about turning back and walking out before he noticed me.
But it was too late.
His chair scraped back gently, the sound cutting through the low hum of the café. Rodriguez was rising, and I instinctively straightened up, my body tensing for the encounter. There’s a language in the way a man carries himself, and every line of Rodriguez’s frame was speaking volumes. He walked with purpose, shoulders squared like he’d just decided on his next move.
“Moretti,” he greeted as he came to a stop in front of me, his tone even but his eyes searching, trying to dig into mine and unearth secrets I’d never let see the light of day. “You heard anything about Dr. Jade Bentley?”
I locked away my surprise, letting none of it reach my expression. “Where do I know you from again?”
He smiled humorlessly. “Right. Of course,” he said, extending his hand. “Detective Edward Rodriguez. NYPD.”
We shook hands, his grip firm. I didn’t miss the way his dark eyes narrowed ever so slightly, trying to pry open every corner of my being. To him, I was just another puzzle. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t in the habit of unburdening my secrets.
“Why were you at my board meeting, Detective?”
Rodriguez leaned back, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smirk. “We were brought in after the breach. BioHQ wanted an NYPD consultant to ensure their security system upgrade would be top-notch.”
There was a pause as I considered his words, my gaze unwavering.
“Is that even legal?” I asked, though I suspected the answer.
Rodriguez shrugged nonchalantly, his expression still smug. “Why don’t you call the police union and ask?”
The suggestion hovered heavily in the air between us. He wanted to see if I’d squirm, if he could rattle me.
“That won’t be necessary,” I replied coolly, refusing to rise to the bait. But inside, I felt like a ship tossed about by tumultuous waves. This unexpected encounter was shaking up my already complex world.
It was comical in a way; I felt like a ship caught in a violent storm, abruptly tossed onto a course I hadn’t charted. With Jade’s name now thrown into our conversation like a live grenade, my concern for her safety intensified.
“Why did no one tell me there was a cop in our meeting?” I asked him.
“Mr. Moretti, my feelings are hurt,” he said. “I’m a person, too. Not just a cop.”
Rodriguez’s words rang with a biting sarcasm, which he backed up with a steel gaze. He was playing at being aloof, but something in his eyes told me this was more than just an offhand encounter.
“I’ll remember that,” I retorted, matching his icy tone. His smirk didn’t waver, and despite myself, I felt a begrudging respect for him. A cop in my world took balls of steel.
A cop talking to me as if we were all friends…man, this guy was something else. And that something told me I would see a lot more of Detective Rodriguez in the days to come. The thought didn’t sit well with me.
“About Dr. Bentley,” he suddenly pressed, his gaze hardening.
I shifted, feeling the weight of his inquiry. Jade’s name on his lips had a way of twisting my gut.
“What about her?” I asked with a guarded voice, my eyes locked with his to show that I wouldn’t back down from whatever he thought he was implying.
“You haven’t heard from her?”
I answered his question with icy detachment. “What business do you have with Jade Bentley?”
He smirked. “I’m normally the one who asks the questions.”
“And yet…”
“Humor me, Moretti.”
“Yeah. Can’t say that I have,” I replied evenly, my voice betraying none of the alarm bells ringing in my head. This was no casual chat over coffee; stakes were being laid out, and I needed to tread carefully. “Why?”
“Everyone’s concerned,” Rodriguez said, folding his arms across his chest. “Her folks, friends...they’re all worried. They haven’t seen her in a bit.”
I shook my head slightly, feigning indifference. “She got that promotion. She’s working really hard, in isolation.”
“Yeah, but surely, she could call her mother,” Rodriguez pressed on, his gaze unyielding.
The question hung in the air between us, a challenge I wasn’t quite prepared for. My jaw tightened imperceptibly as I searched for an answer that would satisfy without revealing too much.
“Jade’s... dedicated,” I finally said, choosing my words with caution. “Maybe too much so. Work can be consuming.”
“And you know this because…”
“Well, I’m her boss.”
“Right. But how do you know she’s too dedicated?”
“I don’t think it’s a secret that we slept together,” I said. “But I sleep with a lot of women, Detective. If you wanted me to give you a play-by-play of each one, we would be here all day long.”
He frowned slightly, prying deeper. “How very cavalier of you, Mr. Moretti.”
Rodriguez just watched me, his expression unreadable. The silence stretched out, becoming its own entity in the room, and I knew this dance was far from over.
He slid a card into my hand, an unspoken summons in the gesture. “Call if you hear something,” Rodriguez said, his voice stripped of any accusation but layered with insinuation.
I took the card, the edges sharp against my fingers, its weight disproportionate to its size. It was just a piece of cardboard, yet it felt like I was holding onto a leaden secret. As each second ticked by, it seemed to sear into my palm—a reminder of the stakes at play. Was this a veiled threat from the detective, or something more? A test of loyalty or perhaps a trap?
“Got it,” I replied, pocketing the card without another glance. But the imprint of the interaction didn’t leave me; it lingered, a nagging itch beneath my skin.
Rodriguez turned around to leave, and the air seemed to fill with invisible particles charged with the electricity of our exchange. His departure did little to unravel the knot of tension in my gut, which tightened further still as he disappeared from view. The paranoia I fought to keep at bay bloomed, dark and unbidden. What game was he playing? And what move would I have to make next?
I walked home in a daze. I barely even greeted Jade as I went into my office to make an important phone call. I watched from the penthouse window as Detective Rodriguez’s figure dwindled into the New York throng, swallowed by the ebb and flow of the city’s pulse. But the weight of his visit settled in my chest, dense and unshakable. I could feel the muscles around my jaw clench, a physical manifestation of the turmoil that his questions about Jade had stirred within me.
Jade, with her dark hair and eyes that sparkled like she knew something you didn’t, was my soft spot—the one thing that could make me forget who I was. And now, concern for her safety sliced through me, sharp and unexpected. She’d become my Achilles’ heel, and Rodriguez picking at that thread spelled trouble.
He wouldn’t understand…I was doing this for her.
For both of them.
I turned away from the window, the view of the cityscape blurring as my mind raced, formulating a plan to protect what was mine. Back inside the cool, controlled climate of my penthouse, the raw edge of vulnerability I felt standing there began to harden into resolve.
“Listen up,” I barked at my men through my headphones. I didn’t want them here as long as Jade was here, and virtual conferences felt silly…but they had to happen, at least until I snuffed out whoever the fuck dared betray us. “We’re on lockdown. I want eyes everywhere—cameras, bugs, the works. No one gets near my penthouse without my say-so. Luca, you still good guarding the penthouse from downstairs?”
“Yes, boss,” he said.
“Everyone else…”
“Understood, boss,” came the chorus of deep, gruff acknowledgments. My crew knew better than to question my orders. They were an extension of my will, instruments of protection—or destruction—if need be.
“Secure the perimeter. Monitor communications. Trust no one.” I spat the words out like bullets. My empire was a fortress, meticulously built and guarded, and I’d be damned if I let it crumble over a slip-up—a woman, even one like Jade.
“Any unusual chatter, you bring it straight to me. No delays, understand?”
“Okay. Get to work,” I dismissed them, ending the call. If Rodriguez was sniffing around, chances are others were too. I needed to move fast, stay one step ahead.
As the room quieted, I allowed myself a moment to look at the city again, now a sprawling chessboard where every move counted. I had to keep Jade safe, whatever the cost. Because in this life, in this world, you don’t just play for power—you play for survival. And nobody played the game better than Dante Moretti.
Straightening my jacket, I felt the weight of responsibility settle on my shoulders. It was time to face her, to see the concern flicker across those unknowing eyes, to reassure her without revealing the depth of the danger that lurked in our shadows.
But I also couldn’t let her know that the police were looking for her…because if I did, then maybe she would think there was a way to get out.
And there wasn’t.
Not as long as I was alive.