Page 248 of Untamed

He stares at it for a beat too long. When he speaks, his voice is steel.

“Fuck.”

“This isn’t about territory anymore,” I say, voice like gravel. “It’s not about business. Or revenge. He’s crossed into somethingelse.” I pause, clenching and unclenching my fist on top of the table. “He doesn’t want her dead. He wants herbranded.Owned. He’s fixated on her.”

Dante leans forward, eyes narrowed. “Nicolai.”

I nod again. “And someone close is still working with him. Someone closer than staff. Possibly blood.”

Luciano’s name doesn’t leave my mouth, but it hangs there...weighty.

“I should’ve gutted him the moment he called that dinner.”

“You still might have to,” Dante mutters.

The silence that follows isn’t empty. It’s full of everything we can’t afford to say out loud. The credence of it presses against my spine, bruising muscle and bone.

“She’s not safe here,” I say finally. “Not at the manor. Not here. Not with eyes still inside our walls.”

“You want to move her?”

“I want her somewhere no one can reach. Not Luciano, not Enzo, not even Bianca. At least until I can figure out who I can trust.”

Dante nods slowly. His eyes are harder now.

“You’re going to burn bridges if you do that.”

“I don’t give a fuck. I hope they fucking drown in the flames.” Another pause. Then his voice goes quieter, like something dangerous settling into place.

“All right, what’s the play?” I look at him, cold and calm and certain.

“We move her. We close ranks. We find the others. And then...” I lean forward, my tone dropping to the razor’s edge. “...we go hunting. And the first name on my list is...Luca Moretti.”

Finding and capturing Luca Moretti took all of twenty minutes.

Pathetic, really.

A boy who wears his father’s name like a crown and thinks it makes him untouchable. But names don’t matter in the dark, not when you’re caught alone, no backup, no warning. Just silence… and the wrong fucking enemy.

Luca was too busy showing off outside a club in Catania to notice the car parked across the street. Too distracted by a girl wrapped around his arm to catch the man in the alley watching his every move.

The warehouse is silent, thick with the kind of stillness that settles right before a storm cracks open the sky.

Dante stands beside me, arms crossed, back to the steel support beam. Shadows stretch across the concrete floor, slicing through the dim light of the hanging bulb above Luca’s slumped form.

He hasn’t woken up yet. But he will. And when he does, the first face he sees will be mine.

Dante exhales, low and even. “You sure you want to do this now? We can make use of the boy. Use him to draw out Nicolai.”

My eyes stay fixed on the boy chained from the ceiling, arms suspended, feet dragging the floor just enough to make each breath a punishment. His jacket’s been stripped, his shirt clings to sweat, blood crusting along his temple where Dante introduced him to the barrel of his Glock.

I don’t answer right away, just watch the blood slowly drip down the side of his face. “His fate was sealed the moment he put that pill her hand. He thought he got away with it.Ha pensato di poter sfuggire, ma il Mietitore riscuote sempre.” He thought he could escape, but the Reaper always collects.

Dante shifts slightly, rubbing a thumb along his jaw. “You think this’ll be enough to rattle Nicolai?”

I stare at Luca’s limp form.

“He touched what’s mine. He needs to know there’s no coming back from that.”

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