Page 180 of Untamed

She nods slowly, like she understands more than I’m saying.

“Hm,” she hums, “I think I would’ve liked her,” she says after a moment.

My throat tightens, but I reach out and take her hand into mine. “She would’ve liked you more.”

The food comes out quickly. Fresh bread, olives, grilled fish drizzled in lemon and oil, and a bowl of caponata that smells like my childhood. Vince gives me a look before disappearing back inside, the kind that saysyou bring her back here, or don’t come at all.

Jordyn eats slowly at first, then with more appetite. Colour returns to her cheeks. Her posture softens. Watching her across this table, in a place so tangled with memory, does something strange to me. It feels permanent.

She sets her fork down after a while, tracing the rim of her glass with a fingertip.

“Bianca’s getting suspicious,” she says.

I lean back in my chair. “Of?”

She lifts a brow. “Take a wild guess.”

I roll my eyes and exhale slowly.

“She’s been hounding me since yesterday. Asking where I was, who I was with. Accused me of lying to her. Then started connecting dots she has no business touching.”

I narrow my eyes. “Did you tell her anything?”

Jordyn shakes her head. “Of course not. But she knows something is going on between us. I don’t know how long I can keep brushing her off. She’s relentless when she senses something’s wrong.”

A bitter smile touches my mouth. “Like someone else I know.”

She glares, but there’s no heat in it. And then her expression shifts.

“Maybe avoid sending me flowers if we’re keeping our relationship a secret. Because they didn’t help her suspicions.” I look up sharply, and she offers a small smile. “Even though they were beautiful… and I loved them.”

My stomach twists in agitation.

When I don’t say anything, she frowns. “The white roses. They were waiting for me when I got back to the manor. No note, just a sleek little black card with my name on it. I thought they were from you.”

Again, I don’t say anything.

I just stare at her, scowling. She watches me now, smile fading. “Aren’t they?”

I force a breath through my nose. Shake my head once. “No, Jordyn. I didn’t send you flowers.”

Her expression falters. “But… the picture. I texted you?—

“I saw it,” I cut in, voice low. Controlled.Toocontrolled.

Her brow creases. “Then who?—?”

I’m already standing. Pulling my wallet from my back pocket, tossing enough euros onto the table to cover the meal and buy a new roof for the café.

She’s on her feet, confused, anxious. “Ares, what’s going on?”

I step close, hand on the small of her back.

“Those roses weren’t from me,” I say quietly, my eyes scanning the street beyond her shoulder. “Do you really think I’d be careless enough to send flowers to the manor when we’re trying to stay invisible?”

She opens her mouth, but I cut her off with a look.

“And even if I did…” I step closer, voice dropping to something darker, steadier. “It wouldn’t be cheap white roses shoved in a box without a name. That’s not how I do things, Jordyn.”

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