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Chapter Thirteen: Dante

J ade's fingers were warm against my skin, the last traces of our shared tears still cooling on my cheeks. I'd stormed through Harbor Cove like a tempest, half-mad with worry, searching for her. Now, standing in the soft glow of her apartment, I was struck by how much I'd feared losing her.

I had thought I was so angry that she’d gotten away from me. But now that I saw her face, I realized that wasn’t what had been driving this search.

It was the fear that someone had shot her, too. It was the fear that I had lost her and our baby for good.

"Jade," I began, my voice gravelly with emotion, "I've been looking everywhere for you. The Carusos—they're not just going to sit back after what happened. They could come after you. They turned one of my men against me and I don’t know if they’re still searching or…I don’t know. I don’t want anything to happen to you. To either of you.”

Her eyes, a bastion of scientific curiosity turned to me, filled with a calm that belied the storm I knew raged inside her. She had always been the eye of my hurricane, the one certainty in a life built on shifting sands.

I stood there, the last vestiges of sunlight from the waning afternoon casting a soft light across Jade's face. My chest heaved with a mix of fear and relief; she was safe, at least for now.

"Let me get you some water," Jade said gently, her eyes never leaving mine as if she could peer right into the turmoil that twisted my guts.

"Thanks," I muttered, watching her navigate to the kitchen with an ease that made it clear this was her sanctuary, not a hideout.

That made me feel like shit.

She returned, two glasses in hand, and handed one to me before sinking into the couch, its fabric whispering under her weight. I followed suit, feeling the cushions embrace us both, a small island of normalcy.

"Why didn't you tell me where you were?" I asked, my words rough around the edges.

“I mean. That’s obvious.”

“Humor me. I need to hear it from you.”

She took a sip, her throat moving delicately as she swallowed. "I was trying to..." Her voice faltered, and she set down the glass before meeting my gaze. "Look, you kept me captive for months. I didn’t know what was happening. And then I thought I was going to lose you, and the police came after you, and it was all such a mess. I realize the fact that I’m pregnant is more than just a complication, but Dante, the police really wanted me to testify. It’s a miracle I managed to escape from them. You’re not the only reason I’m here.”

“Wait,” I replied, trying to process that. “You wanted to protect me?”

“Yes, I wanted to protect you, Dante. If I testified against you, it would destroy everything you've built."

"Protect me?" I echoed, the irony bitter on my tongue. "From what, Jade? You think I can't handle it?"

"No." She shook her head, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders. "It's not that. It's just...there's a part of me that definitely needed to get away from you. From all of this."

"Damn it, Jade," I cursed under my breath, recognizing the truth in her words. "I was a fool for ever trying to imprison you in my apartment."

The admission stung, a raw acknowledgement of my own failings.

Her eyes glistened, moisture pooling until tears brimmed along her lower lashes. "Dante, I—"

"Shh," I cut in softly, my heart wrenching at the sight. “I guess I was so desperate to protect you I didn’t stop to think about what you might want. I should’ve always thought about what you want.”

You make it sound almost romantic."

"Because it is, Jade. This whole damn thing between us—it's the most honest thing I've ever felt." I took her hands in mine, their coolness a stark contrast to the heat of my palms.

"Even if it terrifies me." Her voice was barely above a whisper, each word laden with the weight of our shared past and uncertain future.

"Especially then," I confirmed, my thumbs tracing circles over the backs of her hands, committing the feel of her skin to memory. "Because it means it's real."

She closed her eyes, the tears spilling down her cheeks. “I don’t know how I feel about all this, Dante,” she said. “I’m furious because how dare you keep me captive in your apartment and I’m a bit annoyed you came to see me when I obviously made the trek in part to get away from you. But I’m…glad to see you. Excited, even. And I wish I wasn’t, because it would be easy if I wasn’t. It would be easy if I could just tell you to get away from me and never come back, but I can’t do that, can I?”

"No, you can't," my voice was a low growl, a combination of exasperation and desire. Desire because every word she spoke, every tear she shed, drew me in closer. Exasperation because I wanted her to understand. I wanted her to see the impossibility of our situation as clearly as I did, to see that there were no easy answers, only hard choices. And every choice came with its own set of repercussions.

I grabbed her hand, the coolness of her skin grounding me. "Thank you," I said, my voice rough with gratitude. "For being honest, for understanding—even when it's the last thing you owe me."

Jade looked up, her eyes a clear window to her soul. "We're past owing each other things, Dante. This is about what we choose now."

"Right." I paused, the weight of unshared truths heavy on my chest. "There's more I need to tell you. Things about my... our world that could change everything." I glanced away, wrestling with the urge to protect her from the family's darkness.

"Tell me," she urged, squeezing my hand.

"Jade, the Moretti problems—they're not yours to shoulder. It's better if you stay out of it. It’s better if you stay here.”

Her gaze never wavered "You think me being here will make this easier?"

"Maybe it won't," I conceded, the thought of separation clawing at my insides, "but I can't let you get tangled up in my mess any further. You deserve better. And it’ll keep you safe. You and the baby."

She was quiet for a moment, her silence speaking louder than words ever could. Then, with deliberate tenderness, she leaned into me, an anchor in the tempest of our lives.

"Jade?" I prompted, watching the gears turn in her head.

She scooted back, releasing my hand, and folded her arms across her chest—a shield against the whirlwind threatening to engulf her. "If you go," she started, her voice steady as always, "what then? You return to your life, and I just... what? Wait for a news report that you've been arrested, or worse?"

"Is that what you think will happen?" My question hung in the air, mingling with the fading warmth of the afternoon sun filtering through the window.

"Isn't it likely?" She stood up and paced to the window, gazing out over Harbor Cove, where the water mirrored the sky's descent into dusk. She was beginning to show and she looked fucking beautiful. "Your family, Dante, they're not known for letting go easily."

"True."

"Being apart won't change the danger," she said, more to herself than to me. Her analytical mind dissected each scenario, seeking a solution as if it were a complex equation rather than the mess of our intertwined fates.

"Jade," I tried again, taking a cautious step toward her. "I'm not worth the risk—"

"Stop." She turned suddenly, her eyes blazing with a determination that rivaled any I'd seen in the boardrooms of BioHQ. "Don't make decisions for me, Dante Moretti. Don’t ever do that again or I’ll disappear from your life quicker than you know. I’ve spent my life calculating risks. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that some variables can't be quantified—they're felt."

Her words punched through the fog of my uncertainty. She crossed the room, closing the gap between us with purposeful strides. Standing before me, she lifted her chin, and I saw the fire that burned within her—the same fire that had drawn me to her from the moment we met.

"I want you to stay." The declaration was simple yet carried the weight of all our unspoken promises and fears.

"Jade—" I began, but she cut me off.

"Because despite everything, my life is better with you in it. And I’m choosing to face whatever comes, together.” Her voice wasn’t just clear; it was resolute.

I should have told her I couldn’t stay. I should’ve said that I was pretty sure the FBI was building a RICO case, that the Carusos were waiting to pounce on us, that they had probably followed me to Harbor Cove.

That just being here was enough to put her and our unborn child in danger.

I didn’t.

Instead, I caught her face in my hands, the warmth of her breath on my skin grounding me in the reality of her words.

"Okay," I murmured, hardly daring to believe that she would tether her fate to mine. And then I lied to her. "I'll stay."