Page 161 of Untamed

“You shouldn’t have done that,” she says quietly. “Someone could’ve seen.”

“You shouldn’t have ignored me.”

“You told me to act like nothing’s going on,” she hisses. “So I did.”

“That’s not what I fucking meant.”

Her chest rises and falls, colour rushing into her cheeks. “What did you mean then, Ares?”

I step in close, too close. “I meant you don’t look at me like that in front of others. But in private and no one is around?” My hand lifts, fingers brushing her wrist. “You don’t pretend. I want your eyes on me...always.”

She swallows hard.

“You’ve been in my bed, Jordyn. Do you really think you can walk past me now like you haven’t?” Her lips part, like she wants to throw something back at me. But she doesn’t, because she knows I’m right.

I lean in, my voice a low growl. “I’ve got a meeting with Luciano. Some asshole at the Catania docks thought it’d be smart to skim off our last weapons crate. I should be focused on that. Iwantto be focused on that.”

I pause, staring at her mouth.

“But all I can think about… is how you looked when you came.”

Her breath stutters. She turns away, like distance will fix what we both know is unravelling.

“Tonight,” I murmur. “Don’t make me wait.” Jordyn nods and I press a kiss to her temple before opening the door and walking out.

Fuck me, tonight can’t come quick enough.

Luciano doesn’t look up when I walk in. Just keeps scribbling something onto the edge of a folder like he’s God’s gift to logistics. I shut the door and drop into the chair across from him without a word.

“You’re late,” he says, still not meeting my eyes.

I stretch out, ankle over knee. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

His gaze finally lifts. “We have a leak in Catania.”

“Let me guess. The dockworker?”

“Got greedy,” Luciano says, tossing the file across the desk. “Started asking questions about the last shipment. Someone got wind. Now there’s pressure coming down from the port authority. You need to fix it.”

I glance at the report, barely skimming. My head’s still in the hallway, still with her.

Luciano keeps talking. “We’ve got officers sniffing around containers they were never supposed to look twice at. Either someone paid them, or someone opened their mouth.”

“I’ll handle it,” I mutter. “He have a family?”

Luciano shrugs. “Not anymore.”

I nod once. That’s all he needs.

Then he flips open another file.

“And there’s the matter of Giana Mancini. Her father wants confirmation you’ll be at the dinner next week.”

There it is.

I lean forward slightly. “You didn’t call me in just for Catania, did you?”

Luciano’s mouth curves, sharp and humourless. “I called you because this family needs stability. Giana brings that. Her name brings that. And your… recent distractions don’t.”

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