Page 252 of Untamed

Matteo leans against the railing, cigarette between his fingers, eyes fixed on the horizon like it holds answers he’ll never get. He doesn’t flinch when I step closer. Just takes a slow drag and exhales.

“You always sneak up on people, Fossette?” he says, voice low and uneven, like he’s trying to sound casual but can’t quite pull it off.

I fold my arms across my chest, keeping my voice flat. “No, but if you’re trying to hide, you’re doing a very shit job of it.”

His lips twitch, almost a smirk, but not quite. It doesn’t reach his eyes. He turns his gaze to the olive cove, the wind catching the ends of his shirt. “Nah, not hiding. It’s quieter out here. Easier to pretend everything’s fine… even when it’s not.”

I don’t reply. I don’t want to play this game with him. Not today.

“You know,” he starts, still not looking at me, “he’d kill me if he knew how often I think about you.”

My chest tightens. “Then stop.”

“Tried,” he says with a hollow laugh. “Didn’t take.”

The silence stretches thin between us. I should leave. Go back inside. But my feet stay frozen. Matteo finally turns his head toward me, and the look in his eyes, God, it hurts. He’s not teasing. Not being cocky or cruel. He looks… tired and maybe a little broken.

“He’ll ruin you,” he murmurs. “Men like him… they don’t get to keep what they love. They bury it. Or bleed it out.” He swallows hard, voice raw now. “And the worst part is, they don’t even have a choice.”

My heart aches, but my spine stays straight. “Then I’ll be the first thing he doesn’t break.”

Matteo’s jaw flexes, his voice drops further. “It’s admirable that you think love’s enough.” He looks past me, back toward the olive trees. “In the end, he’ll marry Giana. One way or another. Just like my Dad married my mum. Just like all of them do. Doesn’t matter how they feel, Jordyn. Duty always wins.”

The air turns thin, like I’ve all of a sudden forgotten how to breathe.

His golden gaze returns to mine, soft but relentless. “You’ll spend everything you have trying to be the exception… and this world will swallow you whole for it.”

I shake my head. “You don’t know him.”

“I don’t know my own uncle?” he scoffs. “Believe me, I do. Perhaps, not aspersonallyas you do,” he says. “But I know this family. Andlove?” He drops the cigarette and crushes it under his boot. “Love never stood a chance.”

I expect him to walk away, but he doesn’t, not immediately.

Instead, he just stands there, quiet in a way that makes the air between us feel too thick, like silence itself might buckle under the weight of whatever’s about to be said. His gaze flicks to me, not with anger but with something heavier. Something worn down and waiting.

“I need to ask you something,” Matteo says finally, his voice low and edged with fatigue. The kind that doesn't come from lack of sleep, but from holding onto something too long. “And I want the truth, Jordyn. I need you to be honest with me.”

I nod once, slow, barely more than a movement. My arms stay crossed, like that might hold the rest of me together. “Okay.”

He turns fully toward me now, and there’s nothing guarded in the way he looks at me, just raw confusion and a trace of disbelief. “Why did you let me kiss me that day at the BBQ?”

The question catches me off-guard. Not because I didn’t expect it, because I did, but because hearing it aloud makes it feel more real. More damaging. The answer doesn’t come, not right away and he doesn’t wait for it.

“I liked you, a lot, and you knew that.” he goes on, his voice fraying at the edges. “I thought we were becoming something. I wasn’t imagining that. And then out of nowhere—” He gestures with one hand, frustrated more with himself than with me. “I blink, and I’m watching my uncle kiss you like you’ve always belonged to him. Like none of it, none of what happened between us, meant a damn thing.”

“Matteo—” I start, guilt swelling like a storm tide inside me.

“Don’t,” he says, cutting me off with a soft edge that still lands sharp. “Just tell me. Did you even like me? Or was I some temporary fling to fill the silence until he finally noticed you?”He looks me in the eye, and this time, there’s no bitterness, just something quiet and broken. “Was I just something to entertain you while you waited for him to make his move?”

I shake my head, throat thick, chest twisting too tightly for air to move through clean. “No. Matteo, it wasn’t like that.”

Matteo’s expression doesn’t change. If anything, he looks even more exhausted now. “Then what was it?” His voice cracks, the fracture so small but impossible to miss. “Because you gave me your first kiss, Jordyn. And I know how much that meant to you… and it meant a lot to me, too. It wasn’t some meaningless kiss, not to me.”

I glance down, eyes fixed on the stone beneath our feet, on the way my arms are clenched around myself like I might splinter if I let go. The truth wells up, sharp and blistering, that it wasn’t him. It wasn’t Matteo who kissed me first. It was Ares. Ares, with his brutal hands and unreadable eyes, the man I was never supposed to want. He tilted my whole axis with one look and left me trying to convince myself I was still in control.

I almost say it. The words sit on my tongue, ready to fall. But looking at Matteo now, his shoulders drawn tight, the ache carved into his face, I can’t give him that. Not when he’s already struggling to stay upright in the aftermath of it all.

So, I give him the nearest truth I can manage.

---