Page 122 of Untamed

I stare into my barely touched coffee. The knot in my shoulder throbs in time with my pulse.

Luciano continues.

“As you all know, maintaining strong business ties is the backbone of our legacy. And in these changing times, alignment iseverything.”

He pauses. His gaze drags across the table, settling on me, then flicking briefly to Jordyn. A calculated move. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and so do I.

“That’s why I’m pleased to announce a formal alliance with the Mancini family.”

Jordyn lifts her head, curious. Matteo leans back in his chair, eyes narrowing slightly while he watches my father.

Luciano’s next words fall like stone.

“And to solidify this partnership, we’ll do things the old way. With tradition and honour.”

My stomach knots before he even says it. Don’t you fucking say it.

“We have another wedding,” Luciano announces, unflinchingly. I hear Bianca gasp softly, “Areswill be marrying SantinoMancini’s youngest daughter, Giana. The engagement will be announced later this week.”

My eyes lift to my father, slow and deliberate. He’s already watching me, calm and composed, but I see it. That glint beneath the surface. He’s waiting for me to speak… daring me to challenge him in front of the entire table. And I want nothing more than to reach over and slap that smug look off his fucking face.

But I stay quiet, despite the ire coursing its way through my body. I bite my tongue, because now is not the time.

Suffocating silence lingers at the table.

I can feel Jordyn’s eyes on me. But I can’t look at her. Because if I do, if I see a hurt look in her eyes, I’ll burn the whole fucking table and everyone on it down.

Luciano raises his cup of orange juice.

“To unity.”

A few others echo the toast. I don’t.

Because this isn’t about unity. I know exactly what this is.

This is a fuckingmessage.It’s a power play to show who is really in control here.

He’s drawing a line in blood I’m not allowed to cross.

I stare down at my coffee, black and bitter.

And I stay silent.

Because there is nothing I say right now that won’t cost me everything.

But inside, I’m shaking.

“Ares will be marrying Santino Mancini’s youngest daughter, Giana.”

At first, I don't react. Not outwardly, at least. Inside, it feels as though the air has been violently sucked out of my lungs and replaced with something sharp and jagged. I heard him, every syllable hit my ears, but my mind refuses to process it, like a stubborn child unwilling to accept the truth.

The name clangs around inside my skull, resonating like a bell I can't unring.

I blink once, then again, as if the simple act of closing and opening my eyes might reset the world around me. But nothingchanges. The sky remains an impossibly vibrant blue, almost mocking in its cheerfulness. The table sits in pristine perfection, a stark contrast to the chaos inside me. Ares remains seated, calm and composed, as if the ground hasn’t just been ripped out from beneath my feet.

He doesn’t glance my way, doesn’t shake his head or utter a word. He just stares into his coffee like maybe if he looks hard enough, he’ll find a way out of this. Like he’s as stunned as I am, but still... he saysnothing. And it hurts. Fuck, it hurts in a way I never anticipated, a deep ache that I didn't see coming.

I force my spine to straighten, gripping the edge of my chair with white-knuckled determination to keep my hands from trembling. Next to me, Bianca lets out a soft gasp, leaning in to whisper something I can't seem to comprehend. On my other side, Matteo stiffens, his posture rigid, but I can't bring myself to turn towards him.

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