Page 251 of Untamed

And Nicolai? He’ll read it loud and fucking clear

Luca’s body jerks. The chain creaks violently above him as he thrashes, mouth opening in a silent scream before the sound finally rips out of him, hoarse and broken.

“I told you death was too easy,” I say, pacing slow and deliberate. “This is retribution.”

Blood runs down his cheeks like tears. Dante is methodical, precise. He knows the anatomy of suffering like a second language.

The eye comes loose, wet and red, dropped into a glass jar with a slick thud.

“Your father took something from me,” I say. “Now I take something from him.”

It goes on.

Minutes stretch into eternities.

His sobs become choked whimpers. He starts convulsing. I toss a nod to Dante, enough.

We want him alive.

Bruised, half blind, but alive.

“Taglia le mani,” I say.Cut off his hands.

Dante hesitates. “Ares?—”

“Just the fingers.”

More screams...more blood. By the time we’re done, Luca hangs limp, barely conscious, a mess of red and ruin.

I walk up to him one last time and grip his jaw, forcing his head up. “You’re going to deliver a message to your father.”

His one remaining eye tries to focus on me.

“You tell Nicolai... I’m coming.” I gesture to Dante. “Bag him. Drop him outside Cerbero.”

He’ll wake up dumped on the concrete like discarded meat. No guards. No protection. Just a barely living warning.

Let Nicolai see what happens when you come for what’s mine.

Let Sicily know the Reaper doesn’t bluff.

He collects.Every time.

How long does it take an average person to lose their mind? Because I feel like I’m halfway to losing mine.

It’s been days....3 fuckingdayssince I’ve heard his voice, seen his face, felt the weight of his presence in a room. No texts, calls, nothing— justsilence.

The villa feels colder without him in it. Even larger...lonelier.

Bianca checks in when she can, voice soft and careful like she’s trying not to rattle a ghost. But it’s not enough. I’m going stir crazy, pacing the same floors, rereading the same messages, jumping every time a car passes the gate.

Ares said I’d be safe here, but he didn’t say I’d feel abandoned. Where the hell is he? Why hasn’t he called? Fuck, what if something has happened to him?

I shove open the glass door that leads out to the garden, the sharp scent of Sicilian lemons riding the breeze. Sunlight brushes my skin, warm and golden, but it does nothing to chasethe chill crawling down my spine. I wrap my arms around myself and start walking, hoping the fresh air might do what the silence can’t quiet my thoughts.

Each step crunches lightly over gravel, the soles of my shoes tracing a path I don’t remember choosing. I round the fountain and follow the path toward the olive grove, where sunlight filters through the trees in thin, dappled ribbons.

Then I hear it. A soft flick. A flame. I turn.

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