43. Chapter Fifty-Three Dante
Chapter Fifty-Three: Dante
I yanked Jade close, the cold morning air no match for the heat coursing through me. Our lips crashed together, my urgency not just about want but a silent vow to keep her safe from the darkness I couldn't escape.
I hugged her close to me, feeling the slight swell of her belly. My warm breath clouded in the cold air as I whispered, "Jade, you have to leave."
The surprise and hurt in her eyes was like a blade to my heart. Her arms wrapped tightly around me, fingers clutching the back of my coat. A soft 'no' escaped her lips as she buried her face in my chest.
I could see my breath fogging up in the autumn morning chill, matching the frostiness that had suddenly descended on our conversation. Her words cut through me like a razor-sharp icicle. I tightened my grip around her, the harsh reality of the situation looming over us like a storm cloud.
“I will join you, but I don’t think you can stay at the penthouse anymore,” I told her.
“You said you would leave this life…”
“And look, I will leave this life. I will,” I told her, and I meant it. “But right now, just you being out with me is so dangerous.”
A flicker of movement in the shadows caught my attention. I turned my head slightly, eyes narrowing as I recognized Luca lurking in the darkness. My gaze flicked back to Jade, and I could see the slight tremble in her hands, feel the way she was trying to suppress her fear.
"I need you to trust me on this, Jade," I told her, my voice a low murmur layered with urgency.
“Boss,” Luca said the moment our gazes locked.
"Luca," I barked, pulling back. Luca strode out from the shadows, his face screwed up in something ugly. My gut twisted when I realized what I was looking at.
The bastard had a gun in his hand, and it was pointed straight at us.
"What the hell are you doing here?" My voice cut through the quiet morning, a sharp edge of authority laced with an undercurrent of dread. Something was off, terribly wrong. Luca's eyes dodged mine, and his grip on the gun wasn't just tight—it was purposeful.
Jade started to turn, her instincts kicking in, trying to follow my line of sight. But she never completed the motion. My reflexes, honed from years of survival within the mafia's ruthless embrace, kicked into overdrive. I wrapped my arm around Jade's waist, and with one swift motion, thrust her aside.
She was on the floor, but I wasn’t going to be fast enough.
Across from us, Luca's finger trembled on the trigger, his loyalty teetering like a house of cards in a stiff breeze—shaky, uncertain, on the verge of collapse under the weight of an unseen command. I could see it in his eyes, the silent apology, the resignation. Whatever—or whoever—had gotten to him was playing for keeps.
"It’s nothing personal," Luca murmured, the quiver in his tone belied the falseness of his statement.
"Nothing personal?" I echoed, my heart pounding against my ribcage like a trapped bird.
Betrayal seared through my confusion, sparking a rage that was all too familiar. Luca was family, closer than most blood kin. The idea of him standing there, gun pointed at me, should have been inconceivable.
"Luca," I softened my voice, attempting to connect with whatever part of him remained the man I had grown up with. "You don't have to do this."
I steeled myself for what was coming next but it didn't diminish the shockwave that coursed through me when the gunshot reverberated off the buildings around us. Nor did it dull the surprise that pierced my chest—almost as sharp as the bullet itself. I loved Luca—it was a simple yet brutal fact—and as the bullet burrowed into my side, that affection morphed into the most excruciating sensation I had ever experienced.
The force of the shot rocked me back a step, and I clutched my side as if by sheer will I could stem the tide of blood now seeping through my fingers. There was something deeply perverse about the red blooms spreading across the fabric of my suit—a cruel graffiti marring the meticulous image I had always strived maintained, an image that still felt like a costume.
I dared a glance at Jade, her expression one of horror and disbelief as she took in the scene before her. Her eyes—those windows to her brilliant yet sheltered soul—were wide with shock, her mouth slightly agape as if words had abandoned her in this moment of sheer terror.
"Jade," I managed to say, though my voice was barely above a whisper, strained by the effort to remain conscious. "Get back."
Her gaze locked onto mine, a silent plea for explanation, for reassurance—something I couldn't give her, not when my own world was careening off its axis. I saw the conflict there, the impulse to rush forward, to play the savior, but she hesitated, torn between instinct and intellect.
"Stay away," I urged again, more forcefully this time, even as I felt the edges of my vision begin to blur, the sounds of the city fading into a distant hum. I needed her safe, untouched by the darkness that had infiltrated my life, even if it meant pushing her away when every fiber of my being screamed to pull her close.
I was a Moretti; I had always known that love was a luxury I couldn't afford. But staring into Jade's eyes, the truth of that cost had never cut deeper. As the adrenaline surged, keeping the encroaching blackness at bay, I knew I had to fight, not just for survival, but for a chance to right the wrongs that had led us here—to this moment where love and loyalty lay bleeding on the pavement.
I clung to the sound of Jade's voice, an anchor in the chaotic swirl that my senses had become. She was upset, her words coming out in sharp, disjointed bursts, the way they did when she was trying to solve a problem under pressure. But her distress was a distant thunder, overshadowed by the numbness spreading through me.
"Jade," I managed to choke out, but it was like speaking through water. Every instinct told me to protect her, to shield her and our unborn child from the inevitable fallout of my life's choices. Yet, as I teetered on the brink, there was nothing I could do but wish for more time, for a chance to escape this life and give them the peace they deserved.
My muscles gave out, my body no longer mine to command, and my knees buckled, sending me crashing to the cold, unforgiving ground. The impact barely registered; my mind was consumed with images of Jade, with the hope that somehow, she'd keep our baby safe from this world.
"Help him, please!" Her voice cut through the fog, laced with a raw panic that tugged at the remains of my consciousness. "Ellie, Rodriguez, do something!"
But then the darkness claimed me entirely, and I fell into oblivion, the echo of Jade's desperate plea for Ellie and Rodriguez to come to my aid haunting me into the silence.