20. Chapter Twenty Jade
Chapter Twenty: Jade
D ante was gone…and I missed him.
The clock’s relentless ticking filled the penthouse with a rhythm that seemed to mock my solitude. It was the middle of the night, and Dante’s absence clawed at my nerves. He promised he’d only be gone briefly, but hours had stretched out like shadows at dusk, and I was alone—worry gnawing at my insides.
But…maybe this was it, the moment I’d been waiting for.
I rose from the couch, its leather cool against my skin, and made my way through the silent corridors to the lab—a sanctuary where petri dishes and microscopes were my companions. I settled in front of the computer, the blue light of the screen cutting through the darkness.
“Carbonara, tiramisu, and... garlic bread.” My voice was a steady murmur as I ordered online, more garlic bread than a sane person would need. But then again, pregnancy didn’t do much for sanity or cravings. The anxiety twisting in my belly wasn’t just from the empty apartment; it was the fear of being trapped in Dante’s gilded cage.
“Order confirmed,” I whispered, a small victory. Now, all I had to do was wait. The penance of anticipation settled over me as I closed my eyes, envisioning the steps ahead—the freedom that lay just beyond my reach if only I could grasp it.
The click of the confirmation sent a tiny ripple of resolve through me. The plan was to go to Ellie. She’d see the truth hidden in plain sight, the whole lot of nonsense I’d sent her would finally become crystal clear when I got to her apartment. I rose from the chair, my movements deliberate, and dressed for the cold night that awaited beyond the walls of Dante’s penthouse. Coat buttoned up, gloves snug against my fingers, I was armored for escape.
I paced the length of the luxurious living room, each step a silent drumbeat counting down the minutes. The grand clock was both ally and adversary, its hands inching towards freedom or betrayal with every tick. Waiting was a special kind of agony, but tonight, it was laced with the sweet promise of liberation.
Finally, the buzzer shattered the silence, a herald of what was to come. My heart raced as I opened the door, offering a practiced smile to the delivery man who handed me the food — my Trojan horse. With the bags in hand, I rushed towards the service elevator, forcing casual chatter about the weather and late shifts. It felt absurd, discussing mundane things when every fiber of my being screamed to run.
The service elevator dinged open, a soft tone that usually signaled nothing more than routine. It was empty.
I was almost free.
Almost.
But as the doors slid open with that soft ding, I wasn’t greeted by the vacant hallway I had anticipated. Instead, a broad-shouldered man stood there, his back to the wall, exuding an aura of quiet power that immediately set off alarms in my head. His presence was like a shadow that chilled the air, even though he did nothing more than lean there, seemingly at ease.
“Evening,” he said, his voice deep and resonant.
I swallowed hard, trying to keep up the fa?ade as I stepped out with the delivery man, who was blissfully unaware of the tension crackling in the space between me and the stranger. We made small talk—me with a heightened sense of dread beneath my forced pleasantries, him with a politeness that seemed as out of place as a gun at a peace summit.
Once the delivery man left, I found myself alone with this enigmatic figure. It was then that I realized I had seen him before. The recognition didn’t comfort me; it sent a spike of adrenaline coursing through my veins. This man was one of Dante’s, a sentinel from the empire I was trying to slip past.
“Dr. Bentley,” he addressed me, causing my heart to stumble over its rhythm. “Jade.”
His cool gaze locked onto mine as he straightened up, a small smile curling the edges of his lips—a smile that knew too much. It was unnerving, the way he watched me, as if he could peel back the layers of my composure and see the frantic plans churning in my mind.
“Luca,” he introduced himself simply, as if we were at some banal social gathering instead of a standoff in the cold corridor of a mafia stronghold. “I work for Dante, though I suppose formal titles don’t mean much to you right now.”
“Look, I don’t want any trouble,” I said, my voice betraying none of the fear that clawed at my insides. “I’m just here for the food delivery.”
“You didn’t have to come downstairs for that,” he said. “The food is in your hands, Dr. Bentley.”
“No, I know, but…”
But what? But what, Jade? Think.
“I... needed some fresh air,” I finished lamely, my gaze desperately searching his for any sign of suspicion. He was a statue, though, giving nothing away, the barren hallway echoing with our shared silence.
“Interesting time to need fresh air,” he drawled, that small smile still playing on his lips. “Then again, pregnant women do have... unique cravings.”
He knew. Somehow, he knew. My heart pounded like a wild drum against my ribs as I struggled to hold onto my composure. The pathway to freedom seemed to be narrowing down to a dangerous precipice.
“Right,” I said. “I do need fresh air. For my health. For the baby’s health.”
He looked at his watch. “At one in the morning?”
“Well, I like empty streets.”
“I understand,” Luca replied, his tone smooth as silk yet edged with steel. “But you see, Dante’s woman can’t be roaming about unescorted. It’s not safe, and it’s not... proper.”
My breath hitched, and I fought to keep my face impassive. He knew. Somehow, he knew I belonged to Dante, and that knowledge was a shackle I couldn’t break.
“Proper?” I scoffed, summoning every ounce of bravado I possessed. “Since when does the mafia care about propriety?”
“What are you talking about, Dr. Bentley?” he said, cocking his head. “There’s no such thing as the mafia.”
Fuck. That had been a big mistake. I pinched the bridge of my nose.
“Since it involves someone under our protection,” he countered, his smile never wavering. “You must return to the penthouse, Dr. Bentley. It’s not a request.”
I looked into Luca’s eyes, searching for a hint of mercy or a sign that he might let me pass. But all I saw was determination and the unwavering loyalty of a man bound by honor to a world I was desperate to escape. Clearly, my fate was sealed.
“C’mon. Let’s go.”
But as Luca followed me into the enclosed space, pressing the button for Dante’s floor, I knew that the night’s promise of freedom had been nothing more than an illusion. And as the elevator ascended, I braced myself for the reality that awaited me above.
But my mind raced with the adrenaline-fueled decision to flee this golden cage. My heart hammered against my ribs as I turned from Luca and made a dash for the revolving doors of the lobby. The cool night air was a mere ten paces away. Freedom beckoned, a siren call that drowned out the sound of my sneakers on the marble floor.
Almost there.
In one fluid motion, a force like a gale wind caught me around the waist. Air whooshed out of my lungs as my feet left the ground. Luca’s arms were steel bands, his grip unyielding yet careful not to bruise.
“Nice try, doc,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble against my ear.
He carried me back to the service elevator as if I weighed nothing at all. I thrashed against him, my fists pounding at his broad back, but it was like fighting a statue.
“Let me go, Luca!” I demanded, voice fierce even as hope dwindled.
“Can’t do that,” he said, his tone brooking no argument. He continued to holding me up as I pounced on his back, as the elevator went all the way up to Dante’s floor.
The elevator dinged open to the hallway outside the penthouse, and Luca strode through, still holding me captive.
At the door of the penthouse, he finally set me down, his hands leaving my body reluctantly. His face was an unreadable mask as he leaned in close, his breath fanning my cheek.
“Listen to me,” he said, locking eyes with mine. “From now on, anything you want—food, company, whatever—you go through me. Clear?”
I glared up at him, my mind racing. “You can’t keep me prisoner here.”
“Your safety is my responsibility. You stay put,” Luca commanded before turning and closing the door behind him with a soft click that resounded like a gunshot in the silence.
Alone now, the enormity of my situation settled upon me, heavy and suffocating. My knees buckled, and I sank to the cold floor, the tears I’d been holding back now streaming silently down my cheeks. I was in the living room, surrounded by opulent furniture and artwork that felt more like a mausoleum than a home.
Trapped. Alone. Pregnant.
A pawn in a game I never wanted to play.
The weight of defeat pressed down on me, and there, amidst the shadows and the echoes of my lost dreams, I curled into myself and wept.