Page 205 of Untamed

“Perv,” she whispers, giggling as her fingers slide down my stomach.

“Only for you,” I grin, grabbing her waist and flipping her beneath me in one smooth movement. Her laughter turns into a squeal before I cover her mouth with mine again.

“Non sai cosa mi fai, bambina.” I whisper.

You don’t know what you do to me, bambina.

By the time I leave the villa, the softness Jordyn gave me is already bleeding out of my system. It lingers on my skin, in my mouth, in the ghost of her lips still burning against my neck, but it doesn’t reach my hands. And that’s what I need right now. Cold hands and a clear mind.

Because whoever whisperedprestointo Jordyn’s phone wasn’t just playing games.

They were declaring intent. And I don’t respond to intent with patience. I respond with precision.

The SUV is waiting at the bottom of the hill, matte black, windows tinted. Dante’s already inside, arms spread across the back seat like he’s been waiting for this his whole life. Probably has.

“Talk,” I say as I slide in.

“We pinged the burner again,” Dante starts. “Still off, but we’ve got two possible sources from the last tower it bounced off. One’s a Moretti safehouse in the hills. The other’s a warehouse near the port; old trade point Romano used before everything went to hell.”

I nod once. “We hit both. Same night. No warning.”

Dante’s mouth curls. “Clean or messy?”

I look out the window, watching the trees blur by as we drive.

“Start clean,” I murmur. “If they lie, burn it.”

He grins. “Got it.”

I tap my thumb once against the ring on my finger. Luciano's symbol. A legacy I never wanted.

But now? Now it serves me.

I turn to Dante.

“Get eyes on the Mancini’s too. I don’t trust how quiet they’ve been since the alliance talks started. If they’re playing both sides, I want to know before I’m seated at the same table.”

He nods. “Already on it.”

The silence stretches for a beat, thick with the shift in energy. The softness is gone. The Reaper is awake again...and this time, he’s hunting with purpose.

The SUV hums low beneath us, wheels eating up the road as we descend into the valley. Dante’s scrolling through something on his burner, but I can feel it, that shift in his focus. The tension. The unasked question.

It comes a few minutes later.

“So,” he says, casual in tone but not in meaning, “what’s the plan with the Mancini girl?”

I don’t look at him.

“You gonna play the good little fiancé?” I roll my eyes.

“It’s not a fucking engagement.”

Dante huffs out a breath, leaning his head against the seat. “Could’ve fooled me. Luciano’s spinning it like a unity deal. Alliance solidified through marriage, just like the old days. Public peace for private control.”

I stay silent. Because he’s not wrong. And because I haven’t told anyone, not even him, that the real reason Luciano’s forcing my hand isn’t diplomacy.

It’s Jordyn.

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