Page 261 of Untamed

And I can’t fucking breathe.

Because I know what’s coming.

I stare at the ceiling, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other resting behind my head, every muscle locked tight even in this silence. Especially inthissilence.

The safehouse is ready.

Dante checked the place twice, once with a full sweep, once alone. Clean. Remote. Nestled along the Sicilian coast, buried behind olive groves and cliffs. No neighbours. No ties to the Russo name. Just stone walls, reinforced glass, and a view that pretends to offer peace.

There’ll be guards, of course. But not mine. Not anyone she knows. Ghosts pulled from Dante’s black book, ex-special forces, mercs, hired guns with no affiliations. They don’t ask questions. They don’t look too long. They don't know her name.

They won’t even know who she is.

To them, she’s justla ragazza. The girl.

No contact. No conversation. Only orders.

Her bracelet will still ping her location to me every hour. Quiet signal. Encrypted line. One Dante and I monitor in silence. No phones. No texts. The house is equipped with jammers in every room, set to block anything from leaking out. If anyone does try to trace her, they’ll find static.

And if they get close?

There’s a black car in the garage. Hidden panel. Gas tank full, keys already coded. Drive it far enough and it leads to a second location I haven’t even told Dante about.

A last resort.

She doesn’t know any of this. And I won’t tell her. Because if she finds out the layers I've buried her under, she’ll think it’s a prison.

But it’s not.

It’s the only place I can leave her and still carry on without losing my fucking mind.

If I lose this war, Jordyn disappears. New name. New life. Enough money in an offshore account to buy whatever future she wants. And if anyone comes looking?

They’ll find nothing. Just like I promised her.

I glance down at her now, still curled into me, eyes closed, breathing even like we’re both not acutely aware that this might be our last night together.

This might be the last night I get to feel her warmth against me. Breathe her in. Taste her.

She’s unaware that while she’s trying to hold me together, I’m already halfway gone, replaying every contingency, every threat, every move I’ll make once I let her go.

And when I do...God help anyone who steps into my path.

The veranda is quiet. Eerily still, save for the distant chirp of cicadas and the faint hum of wind rustling through lemon trees. I lean against the iron railing, cigarette burning between my fingers, eyes locked on the gravel drive like I’m expecting the world to end at any moment.

That quiet moment is interrupted when I hear the shuffle of footsteps. I don’t turn, I don’t need to. I know the cadence, measured, smooth, and cautious.

Enzo.

He stops a few feet away, close enough for the smoke to curl around him, but far enough to make sure I know he’s not trying to get too close.

“Just got the news about Luca,” Enzo says, voice low, unreadable. “What the fuck were you thinking, Ares? Going after Nicolai’s son like that? Luca is just a kid and you?—”

“He put that pill in her hand and almost killed her,” I cut in, voice flat. “Doesn’t matter how old he is. He knew what he was doing, just like Nicolai did when he teamed up with Alessandroand tried to kill Matteo. Or have you forgotten about that, fratello?”

Enzo stops a few feet away, staying just outside striking distance like he’s not sure who he’s talking to anymore. Probably smart, considering I don’t trust him for shit.

I take a slow drag, eyes fixed ahead. “No, I haven’t forgotten. And I’m not saying he didn’t deserve to bleed for it,” he says carefully. “But you didn’t have to go nuclear. Beating him, I get. But gouging out his eye and cutting all his fingers off and dropping him on Nicolai’s front step?” He exhales hard. “That’s grim, even by your standards.”

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