36. Chapter Forty-Six Dante
Chapter Forty-Six: Dante
I knew keeping her here was the right choice, but she didn’t look happy.
I watched her, every frenetic step and sharp turn, as she paced the length of the penthouse. The morning light spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a harsh glare on the opulence that felt more like a gilded cage each passing day. Jade was a tempest in a white shirt and leggings, her dark hair a wild cascade against the clinical sterility of our hideout.
“You’re still going stir-crazy, huh?”
“Your place is very nice,” she said. “But I think I need some fresh air.”
“So you want to go out.”
“More than you know,” she responded, her voice a mix of defiance and desperation. I knew then we had to get out, even just for an hour or two.
“Let’s grab lunch outside these walls,” I suggested, already calculating the risks and exits. “We’ll take the subway, go to Manhattan.”
She smiled at me. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” I said. “It’s the weekend. What’s keeping us here?”
She smiled at me. “Okay.”
On the train, I kept close, watching her relax inch by cautious inch. We played at normalcy, trading barbs and laughs like any other couple heading out for a bite, but my mind never stopped scanning for threats.
We wove through the throngs of Manhattan, hands entwined, a semblance of normalcy in a life that was far from it.
“Feels good to be just...part of the crowd,” Jade murmured, her breath visible in the crisp fall air.
“Enjoy it while it lasts,” I replied, my voice low, my gaze darting. “We’re never just part of the crowd.”
Her coat strained subtly against her growing belly. She caught me looking and sighed, her hand moving protectively to the fabric. “I just wish my parents could have found out differently,” she said, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “They’re gonna notice the moment they lay eyes on me.”
I squeezed her hand tighter, feeling the weight of my promised protection settling on my shoulders, heavier with each passing day. “They’ll understand,” I lied. It was a necessary lie, the kind you tell when the truth is too sharp.
I had no idea how her parents would feel.
“Will they?” Her voice cracked. “Because I hardly do.”
Before I could answer, she paled. I could see a wave of nausea as it swept across her face. She staggered into a nearby alleyway, her free hand pressed to her mouth.
“Jade?” I followed her, ready to shield her from more than the prying eyes of pedestrians.
“Give me a minute,” she gasped, leaning against the cold brick wall.
My heart clenched as I watched her struggle, the woman who dealt with complex biological equations reduced to battling her own body’s rebellion.
I kept one hand on her back and the other reached inside my jacket, resting on the cold grip of the blade concealed there. Old habits die hard, and mine were etched into my bones.
“Better?” I asked after a moment, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.
“A little.” Jade straightened up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
That’s when I saw him—another piece of the alley’s shadows, materializing like a bad omen. A man, his intentions as murky as the filth he stepped through. Instinct took over; I positioned myself between Jade and the stranger, every muscle tensed for what came next.
“Can I help you with something?” I asked, the chill in my voice belying the calm fa?ade I presented.
He didn’t answer right away, his eyes hidden beneath the brim of a battered hat. He took a step closer, and I tightened my grip on the hidden knife, ready to draw blood if necessary. This dance was familiar, one I’d performed countless times before, but the stakes had never been this high.
Nobody had ever threatened the mother of my unborn child…or our baby.
“Wrong turn,” he finally grunted, eyeing the gap between us.
“Then find the right one,” I shot back, leaving no room for further interaction.
He hesitated, weighing his options.
“Dr. Jade Bentley?” The stranger’s voice sliced through the tense silence, his eyes locking onto Jade.
“Yes,” she replied, her naivete shining brighter than the sun above us. She stepped forward, but I pulled her back just as I caught the glint of a knife tucked inside his jacket pocket.
“Wrong answer,” I muttered under my breath. Time slowed down as I calculated our odds. With Jade in the mix, slowed from being pregnant, they weren’t great.
I didn’t think. I moved. My fist flew, connecting with the stranger’s jaw—a crunching promise of my intent. He staggered back, surprise etching his features, but it was short-lived. He lunged at me, knife flashing in the early morning light.
We clashed, violence painting the alley in broad, brutal strokes. He didn’t have time to go for his knife. Jade stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock as she watched me.
The man’s fist connected with my ribcage, a sharp pain flaring but not debilitating. I’d had worse. But as we grappled, something shifted—the stranger’s gaze snapped to Jade, and with a growl, he broke away from me and lunged for her.
“Jade!” My voice was a roar in the quiet of the morning, my body reacting before my mind had time to process the danger she was in.
I couldn’t let him touch her. Not her.
Adrenaline surged through my veins, pushing past the dull ache in my side. I caught him by the collar and yanked him back, throwing him off balance. His knife clattered to the ground, skittering across the pavement. And there it was—the opening I needed.
My hand slipped into my jacket, finding the cool, familiar grip of my own blade. Time seemed to hesitate, teetering on the edge of a decision that could change everything.
Caruso. That name echoed in my head, fueling my resolve. He sent this man for her, for Jade. There was no room for doubt, no space for mercy. \
It was him or us.
The steel slid between his ribs with a sickening ease, silencing his gasp—a sound too intimate, too final. His eyes met mine, filled with something like surprise, as if he didn’t expect death to come at the hands of someone like me.
“You deserve this,” I said as he slumped to the ground, his weight dragging the knife from my grasp. The blood spread quickly, staining the concrete with a stark red that seemed too vibrant for such an early hour. This was the price of our lives entwined with the mafia—a currency paid in brutality and loss.
I stood over him, watching the life drain from his body. Another ghost to haunt my dreams. I turned to look at Jade, her face pale, her dark hair framing her face like a specter of the innocence we were both losing with each passing second.
I stood there, my breaths coming hard and fast, the cold morning air biting at my flushed cheeks. The man’s body lay crumpled on the ground, his life slipping away onto the unforgiving pavement of this New York back alley. Jade was right beside me, saying nothing.
“Jade,” I managed to say, my voice sounding foreign even to my own ears. She didn’t respond, just stared down at the man with those wide, unblinking eyes that seemed to take in everything and yet nothing at all. Her leggings were smeared with dirt from the scuffle.
“We need to help–”
“No,” I said, holding an arm in front of her. “There’s no helping him.”
“Dante, we can’t just stand here–”
The guy took one last shuddering breath, and it was like watching the final piece of our old lives fall away. Jade flinched as if the sound reached inside her and flipped a switch, her scientific mind unable to rationalize the brutal reality laid bare before us.
“Is he—“ Her voice cracked, and she stopped, unable to finish the question.
“Yeah,” I said, not needing her to finish. “He’s gone.”
Her gaze flicked up to mine, searching for something—reassurance, maybe, or a sign that this wasn’t really our world now. But I couldn’t give her that. Instead, I offered her the only truth I had. “Caruso won’t stop. You know that, right?”
“You didn’t have to kill him.”
“Jade, he was going to kill you,” I said. “He was going to stab you, or maybe hurt our baby.”
Her breath hitched at my words, her hand instinctively moving to circle her growing belly. The baby. Our baby. A surreal reality in this grim world we were entangled in. The only beacon of light amidst the darkness that surrounded us.
“I...” The word hung in the air, unfinished as tears welled up in her eyes. The weight of our predicament was dawning upon her, and it was a heartbreaking sight.
“Look at me, Jade,” I urged, taking a step towards her and resting my hands gently on her shoulders. She lifted her gaze to meet mine, the steely determination that usually sparkled in her eyes now replaced with a terrified uncertainty.
“This is the life I was born into,” I told her, my voice low and steady. “But you...you don’t deserve any of it.”
She took a shaky breath in, trying to steady herself. “And what about our baby? What kind of life do they deserve?”
“How about we have that conversation somewhere else?”
She nodded, swallowing hard. The realization seemed to settle over her like a shroud, and I could see her struggling with the weight of it. We were in deep, far deeper than I ever wanted her to be. “You’re right. We can’t stay here,” she whispered, her voice steady despite the tremor I saw in her hands.
“Let’s move.” I grabbed her arm gently but firmly and led her away from the body, from the blood—that damned blood that seemed to have a life of its own, seeping into every crack and crevice of the ground. We’d leave it behind, but we’d carry the memory of it with us, always.
I hadn’t just marked her. I had scarred her for good and I didn’t know if I was going to be able to live with myself.
But, again, that was something I was going to have to grapple with later. Elsewhere.
Not here.
“Where are we going?” she asked as we made our way through the labyrinth of alleys, the city waking up around us, oblivious to the darkness we were fleeing from.
“Somewhere safe,” I replied, but even as I said it, I wondered if such a place existed for people like us anymore. The web of the mafia was vast and tangled; once caught, it was nearly impossible to break free without tearing apart.
“Like where?” she asked.
I sighed. “We should have never left the penthouse,” I said. “Jade, I’m taking you home.”