Page 201 of Untamed

Dante’s expression shifts. Cold, alert, all traces of humour gone.

He doesn’t need me to explain. We’re not playing chess anymore.

“No more warnings,” I say, voice so callous it doesn’t even sound like me. “I want a name.”

Dante takes the phone from me and unlocks his own, already moving toward the SUV parked at the side of the property. The door clicks open, and the interior lights spill out, revealing a tablet and mobile rig in the centre console.

“Give me ten minutes,” he mutters, sliding into the passenger seat. “I’ll ping the last incoming number and run it through the burner database.”

I lean against the hood, arms crossed, eyes scanning the shadows of the trees that border the estate. The gravel crunches beneath Dante’s boots as he shifts his weight, fingers flying across the screen inside.

Every second that ticks by presses harder into my spine.

Presto.

They want me anxious. Distracted. Off balance.

What are they planning. What is happeningsoon?

“Got it,” Dante says from inside the car.

I walk over.

Dante angles the tablet toward me. “Rerouted through three different carriers, bounced off a tower in Messina, then redirected. Professional.”

“Name.”

“Not yet. But I’ve got the IMEI code locked. Once they power the phone back on, we’ll get a location ping.”

I nod, jaw grinding. “And if they never turn it back on?”

“Then we backtrace through the tower ID and cross-check every burner bought in the last thirty days in Sicily. It's slow, but it’ll land.”

I exhale through my nose. Slow and focused. My brain already cataloguing every enemy bold, or stupid, enough to come this close.

“I want eyes on the gate. No one comes in or out unless I approve it.”

Dante nods. “Done.”

“And pull security footage from the villa perimeter for the last forty-eight hours.”

“You think someone got close enough to plant something?”

“I don’t think. Iknow.”

I step back, casting a glance toward the faint glow bleeding from my bedroom window, where she still sleeps, safe and warm and unaware that someone just circled her name with blood.

My voice drops, quiet but final.

“I want your best men on her. Around the clock.”

Dante straightens. “You got it.”

“I want to know where she is every second of the fucking day.” My tone cuts sharper now, no room for doubt. “They track her like shadows, but they’re never seen. I don’t want her spooked.”

He nods once. “Discreet. Tight net. She won’t notice them.”

“She better not,” I murmur.

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