Page 277 of Untamed

I need a fucking reason.

Dante is already mounting his bike as I twist the throttle and shoot off down the road.

I don’t look back. I don’t need to, I know he’s already following.

Whatever Jordyn was running from...I’m about to face it head-on.

The ride back to the manor is thirty-five minutes. I make it in twenty. The Ducati snarls beneath me, eating up the road as the estate rises ahead like a monument to every mistake I never buried deep enough. Wind lashes my face, but it does nothing to cool the fire crawling beneath my skin. My hands are numb from the throttle and my blood is molten beneath my skin.

Luciano offered her a way out once. I told him to stay the fuck out of it.

He didn’t listen. Of course he fucking didn’t.

The gates of the Russo estate appear at the crest of the hill. I don’t wait for them to fully open. I blow through. The guards jump out of the way, too slow, too stupid to matter.

Gravel spits behind my tyres as I cut the engine in front of the main house and kick the stand. I’m off the bike before the engine finishes growling.

Boots thunder up the stone steps. The front doors blast open under my palm. One of the maids polishing one of the ornaments starts, shrinking back against the wall. I ignore her as I stalk down the corridor, straight toward the study.

No hesitation. No second thoughts. Just one name pulsing through my skull like a war drum.Don Luciano Russo.

I reach the study doors, of course they’re closed. And for some reason that only adds to my fury as I kick them open so hard they slam into the walls.

Luciano’s eyes snap up, he is behind the desk, leaning back in his leather chair like he’s expecting me. Like this is just another morning.

He doesn’t blink. Doesn’t stand. Just lifts his espresso to his lips and sips, calm as ever.

“Ares,” he says, like he’s greeting a guest. “Sembri...teso.”You look...tense.

I don’t answer. I step forward and pull the envelope from my jacket and toss it beside it, cash and the I.D cards spill out onto the desk.

The tools he gave her to vanish. His handiwork, plain as fucking day.

“Where is she?” I grit out through clenched teeth.

Luciano glances at the envelope, then lifts his eyes to mine.

“Who?” His calm demeanour maddens me further.

I glare at him. “Non fare il fottuto ingenuo.”Don’t play the fucking fool.“You know exactly who I'm talking about.You think I don’t recognise Tomaso’s work? That’syourforger. The IDs, the cash, it hasyourstench all over it.”

Luciano leans back in his chair, lacing his fingers together, dark eyes narrowing before she speaks. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replies evenly. “You barge into my office, throwing accusations, waving around some documents, forgive me if I’m not a mind reader, Ares.”

“Don’t.” My voice drops into something colder. “Don’t fucking patronise me.” I step closer. “You told her to leave once before, and she politely told you to go fuck yourself. So, what did you say this time, huh?” My voice rises, fury uncoiling. “What did you do to convince her to walk away? What did you threaten her with?”

His expression doesn’t change. “I told her to leave you before you got yourself killed, yes.” he answers, measured and soft. “But I haven’t seen the girl, nor spoken to her since the night she left with you,figlio. And that’s the truth.”

Figlio.That fucking word. Thattone.Fuck, it grates me.But the composure in his voice is what tips me. “You’re full of shit.”

He shrugs like we’re discussing weather. “She was still at your villa the last I heard.”

Wrong fucking answer.

I slam my hand down on the desk hard enough to make the espresso cup jump.

“She was taken,” I growl. “On her way to the airport. Two black SUVs. She didn’t plan it. She panicked. Ran. Because someone got in her head.”

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t even blink.

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