Page 37 of Untamed

Jordyn is still curled up on the bed where I left her. Small and fragile.

I had one of the girls change her out of the wet clothes and into one of my oversized t-shirts, which is drowning her frame like armour she doesn't even know she’s wearing.

I watch her for a moment longer than I should.

Making sure...making goddamn sure. Because part of me still doesn’t believe it. That I got to her in time. That she didn't fucking die in my arms.

I push up from the chair, my joints stiff. There’s too much shit I need to deal with today, starting with Matteo for not watching out for her like he was supposed to.

But for a minute, just one fucking minute, I let myself stand there and look at her. Imagine what it would feel like to slide under that blanket with her and gather her into my arms.

She has no idea the storm that’s coming. No clue that her name is already etched into my bones, like a scar that’ll never fade. I turn away before I do something stupid, like sit back down and stay there like a fucking dog on a leash.

Instead, I head to the door, yanking it open with more force than necessary.

One of my men is already stationed in the hallway, standing ramrod straight.

“Coffee,” I snap. “Black. Strong.”

He nods and hurries off without a word. I scrub my hands over my face again, my pulse still hammering like I haven't slept at all. Because I haven’t.

Because sleep isn’t a luxury you get when someone tries to poison what's yours.

And make no mistake...Jordyn Windslow might not realise it yet...but she’s mine to protect now.

Whether she likes it or not.

I’m halfway down the hall when Dante catches up to me, silent as a shadow and hands me a cup of coffee.

“Morning,” he says quietly. “We have eyes on what went down last night.”

“Talk,” I bark without slowing.

Dante matches my pace, voice low and tight. “Jordyn’s drink wasn’t spiked. She accepted something willingly. From...Luca Moretti.”

The name slams into me like a steel fist straight to the gut.Moretti.

Of fucking course. Moretti swine. They’ve been pushing the boundaries for months, running guns through Russo territory, skimming from our protection cuts, disrespecting every silent rule that’s kept a decade of peace.

But this? This was deliberate. This was a message. A message received loud and fucking clear.

“She didn’t know what it was,” Dante continues. “Word is he offered her a pill, told her it would make her feel good. Looked like ecstasy. Could’ve been laced and where she’d been drinking and never taken anything before...”

I grind my teeth, the taste of blood metallic on my tongue.

“And Matteo?”

Dante’s jaw ticks once. “He wasn’t there when it happened. The kid left her alone and was busy charming some broad with more tits than brains. He should’ve known better.” A dark, cold rage spreads through my chest, slow and venomous. She trusted the wrong person for one fucking second, and it almost cost her everything.

“Watch Luca,” I growl. “I want him alive. Fornow.” Dante nods once. No questions. He knows what I mean. “Where is Matteo?” I question.

“He’s at the manor. Thought you’d want to deal with him personally.”

Smart man.

I nod once, sharp and deadly. My mind is already spinning through the ways the night could’ve ended. Should’ve ended. If I hadn’t gotten to her in time, if she’d been another body on a cold slab, I would’ve buried the Moretti’s under their own fucking club tonight.

And Matteo? That little shit is family. But even family bleeds if they fuck up badly enough. I turn sharply toward the stairs, Dante a silent shadow on my back. As I cross the ground toward the Russo manor, murder pumps through my veins like second nature.

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