Page 16

Chapter Sixteen: Jade

S unlight warmed my face, pulling me from sleep. I stretched, feeling the soft sheets and the weight of Dante’s arm around my waist. He lay beside me, his chiseled features relaxed in slumber. I watched him for a moment, remembering the intensity of last night, the way he had kissed me as if it were the last time. My chest tightened with a mix of joy and fear.

I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be right back,” I whispered.

Dante mumbled something incoherent, shifting slightly but not waking. I slipped out of bed, the cold floor a sharp contrast to the warmth of the blankets.

In the bathroom, I examined myself in the mirror. My hair was a tangled mess, my skin flushed. I traced a finger over my lips, still swollen from his kisses, and sighed. Turning on the shower, I let the steam fill the room and stepped under the hot water, washing away the remnants of our passion.

Panic surged through me as my eyes scanned the empty bedroom. “Dante?” I called out, my voice echoing off the walls. No response. My mind filled with a thousand grim scenarios, and I rushed to the kitchen, then the living room — but he was nowhere to be found. I sank onto the couch, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

I dressed quickly, pulling on a tank top and shorts. My hand rested briefly on my stomach, a silent promise to protect the small life growing inside me. The absence of Dante’s confident smirk and comforting presence made the room feel cavernous and empty.

Anger started to replace my anxiety. Had he really just taken what he wanted and left? I glanced at the clock; it was still early. Too early for him to be handling any family business, I reasoned.

I walked back to the bedroom and sat, then stood, then paced. My hands went to my belly, and I rubbed it out of habit, out of worry. What was I going to do if he just disappeared? If he left me here alone to—well, no. Maybe that was just what I wanted.

The sound of the door unlocking froze me in place. I turned to see Dante walk in, a paper bag in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other. He paused, taking in my expression, and a small, almost imperceptible frown tugged at his lips.

“Thought you’d be happy to see breakfast,” he said, closing the door with his foot.

I didn’t move. “You left.”

“I went to the deli. It’s a block away but everyone had the same idea.” He walked over and set the food on the small dining table near the kitchenette. “Didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.”

Relief washed over me, mixed with the lingering heat of my earlier anger. I walked to him slowly, unsure how to balance the emotions swirling inside me.

He took out two croissants and a container of fruit, then handed me a coffee. “It’s decaf,” he said, almost apologetically.

I took it, my fingers brushing his. “Thanks.”

We stood there in an awkward silence, the kind that comes after a near-miss of something explosive. I sipped the coffee, letting the warm steam soothe me.

“I didn’t mean to worry you,” he said finally.

I looked up at him, at those dark eyes that held so many secrets. “I thought—“

“I know what you thought.” He interrupted, but not harshly. “I’m not that guy, Jade.”

The tension in my shoulders eased a little. “You’re a lot of guys, Dante. Sometimes it’s hard to keep track.”

He almost smiled at that, a corner of his mouth twitching upward. “Eat. It’s going to get cold.”

I sat down and took a croissant, peeling away the flaky layers. He remained standing, watching me, and I wondered if he could see the thoughts running through my head as clearly as I could see his.

“Dante,” I started, but he cut me off again.

“We’ll talk after,” he said, sitting down across from me. “I promise.”

I nodded, biting into the croissant. It was warm and buttery, and for a moment, it made everything feel almost normal.

“Thanks, Dante. Really,” I said, my voice softer than I’d intended. The warmth from the croissant seeped into my hands, and I could almost believe we were just a normal couple having breakfast.

He studied me, his eyes searching. “Jade, there’s something we need to talk about.”

My heart sank. Of course there was. “Can it wait?”

His jaw tightened, but he nodded. “Eat first.”

I took a bite, the buttery flakes melting in my mouth. He didn’t move, didn’t touch his own food. The silence grew heavier, more oppressive.

“Dante, if this is about—“

“Just eat,” he said, cutting me off. “You need your strength.”

I finished the croissant, every bite a forced effort. He waited until I was done before speaking again.

“I’m sorry for last night,” he said. “For everything.”

I looked away, out the window at the snow-covered streets. “You mean for taking me to your place, for holding me against my will, for making me choose between—“

“Jade,” he interrupted, his tone pleading now. “I’m trying to protect you.”

I turned back to him. “Protect me from what, Dante? From you?”

He flinched, a small but noticeable reaction. “From the life I lead. From the enemies I have. From the choices you’ll have to make.”

The seriousness in his voice cut through my anger, leaving a raw, exposed wound. “What choices?”

He leaned in, his eyes locking onto mine. “The choice to stay. The choice to go. The choice to keep our child safe, no matter what.”

Our child. The words hung in the air, a fragile thing that could break at any moment.

“I never wanted this,” I said, my voice cracking. “I never wanted to be part of your world.”

“I know,” he said. “And I wish…look, you were right about everything. I should’ve been more upfront with you. But I was so blinded by what I wanted.”

“By the keycard?”

“Sure, that was part of it. But no. I was talking about you, Jade. This has always been about you. And now I’m so…fuck, I’m so sorry I ever got you into this world. But now we’re here and there’s no turning back. And I wish there was, but there isn’t. We don’t have that luxury and that scares the shit of me. I know it must scare the shit out of you too and I’m sorry.”

He was right, and I had no idea what else to say, so I kept drinking my decaf coffee instead.

He sighed. “We have a lot to talk about.”

I watched him, silent. The smell of coffee and fresh pastries filled the small kitchen, a cruel contrast to the tension that had settled in. I took a deep breath.

“I’ll hear you out,” I said. “But I need to tell you something first.”

He paused, looking at me with an intensity that made my stomach twist. I picked up the croissant, examining it like it was a lab specimen, then took a slow, deliberate bite. The sweetness did nothing to calm me, and the moment dragged far longer than it should have.

I was stalling. I was terrified.

Dante waited, his eyes never leaving mine.

I took a deep breath, trying to summon the courage. “I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how to reach you.”

Dante’s eyes searched mine. “Tell me what?”

“It’s the…I found out the sex, Dante,” I said. “I know what we’re going to have.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going to have a little boy, Dante.”

I wasn’t sure how to read the expression on his face. His eyes widened, and for a second, I thought he might be angry.

Instead, his gaze found my eyes.

And then he smiled.