Page 127 of Untamed

That much I’m certain of.

Even now, after everything Bianca said... after everything Isawat that table, he’s still the only person I trust to tell me the truth.

And maybe that makes me reckless.

Maybe that makes me stupid.

But I’m done being scared of what I don’t know.

It’s time I walked into the pit and asked the devil himself.

I hear her chair shift before I even look up.

The sharp scrape of wood against tile carves through the hum of idle conversation like a blade to the throat. It’s not just a sound, it’s a warning. A rupture.

My gaze lifts.

And there she is.

Standing spine stiff, fists clenched like she was holding herself together with sheer will alone. And I do nothing, because what the fuck can I do right here in the presence of everyone?

Her eyes find mine. And in that instant, everything else ceases to exist.

The air disappears, my pulse kicks and my shoulder throbs, but I barely feel it. Because the look on her face tells me she’s not just walking away, she’sleavingme.

Then she leans in, just slightly.

“Congratulations.”

Two syllables.

Soft, controlled and precise. And fuck, they slice through me like a fucking knife.

Jordyn doesn’t blink, nor break. She just stands there like she didn’t just gut me in front of everyone.

My jaw locks. My fingers curl into tight fists under the table. I want to stand, take her hand and make it clear to everyone here that she’s the one I want. I need to, but my legs won’t move. The only thing that moves is my stare, glued to her as she offers the table a brittle smile.

“Uh, please excuse me. I’ve consumed too many pastries this morning. I’m going to go for a walk.”

Bullshit.

She hasn’t touched her food. I know it. I saw it.

But no one questions her, not even Bianca, who watches her go with wide eyes and worry.

And I just sit there like a fucking mug.

Watching Jordyn walk away like she didn’t just take the last air out of my lungs with her.

The urge to gut my father right here and now for hurting the only person that truly matters to me is overwhelming.

But, I wait.

Wait until the table clears, until the voices fade and the chairs scrape back and they’ve all scattered like birds too stupid to see the storm that’s coming.

Then I rise and go find him.

Don Luciano.

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