Page 48

“Yeah, you’ve got a death wish, little ladro,” I mutter under my breath, glaring at the cat.

Jordyn looks up, her blue eyes dancing with mirth. “You named him already?”

“I didn’t name him. I issued a warning.”

She smiles, all slow and knowing and it makes me want to grab her by the face and plant my mouth on hers. “You’re not fooling anyone, Bestia.”

I grunt, stepping back toward the bedroom door. “Don’t get too attached. He’s not staying.”

She follows me inside, kitten tucked securely against her chest. “He already picked his human.”

I start to interject. “I’m not his?—”

“Of all the villas he found and crawled in yours and you’ve named him,” she interrupts, eyes gleaming. “That’s basically binding in cat law.”

I exhale, tipping my head back toward the ceiling like it might hold the strength I’m rapidly losing around this girl.

She grins, already walking back toward my bedroom with the thing in her arms. “I think he likes it here.”

“I don’t like him.”

“You don’t like anyone .” This was true...until her .

“I like silence,” I growl.

“You’ll love him then. He barely talks.”

I follow her back inside, every instinct screaming at me to wrestle back control, but all I can do is watch her settle onto my bed like she’s done it a hundred times.

Like she belongs. And fuck me, do I want her to. “If he pisses on my bed, Bambina, I’ll cook him for dinner. You’ve been warned.” I mutter, following her inside.

Jordyn smiles, smug and victorious, like I haven’t spent every second trying to keep her out of this room, this life. “Don’t you listen to him, Ladro, he acts all tough, but deep down he’s really a big softy.”

I shake my head. If only you knew .

The kitten sprawls luxuriously in her lap, as if it has always belonged there, already claiming her attention with the ease of a monarch assuming the throne.

Her giggle, like a cascade of wind chimes, erupts when the kitten licks her nose, a real, unfiltered, warm laugh that scrapes against something raw and aching inside my chest.

And damn it, I smile. It’s faint. Barely there, but it’s real. Because she looks so fucking soft like this. Legs curled beneath her, hair messy from sleep, cradling that furball like it’s something sacred and precious. No walls. No sharp tongue. Just light.

She scratches behind its ears, nose crinkling when it purrs louder, and I swear I forget, for a split second, who I am. What I’ve done, the blood still drying on my shoulder.

I forget all of it.

Because of her.

Because of this.

She looks up then, catching me watching. And I don’t look away fast enough. Her smile falters, turning shy a touch of pink tinting her cheeks. “What?” she asks, voice so quiet I almost miss it.

I shake my head once. “Nothing.”

But it’s not nothing, it’s not nothing at all...it’s fucking everything .

Jordyn tucks her chin, brushing her cheek against the kitten’s fur. “You’re not as scary as you pretend to be, Ares Russo.”

I scoff, leaning my good shoulder against the doorframe, arms crossed, doing everything I can to hold the pieces of me together. “Don’t let the cat lull you into a false sense of security.”

“He’s not the one I’m worried about.”

Our eyes meet across the room. And just like that, the stillness stretches, thick with something neither of us dares name.

The kitten is curled into a tight ball at the foot of the bed, fast asleep in the warmth of the sheets. Typical. Not only is he uninvited, but he’s already made himself right at home.

Adorable little bastard.

I nod toward the bundle of fur. “We should find his mother. He looks too small to be on his own, probably got lost.”

Jordyn looks up at me, a slow smile tugging at her lips. “You really don’t know much about cats, do you?”

I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She lifts the kitten gently into her lap, cradling it against her chest. “If a mama cat gets stressed, is unwell or thinks her kittens are in danger, she’ll move them, or leave them altogether.”

“Leave them?” I echo, frowning. “Just like that?”

She nods, stroking her thumb over the kitten’s head. “Yeah. It doesn’t mean she didn’t care. Sometimes... she just thinks they’re safer without her.”

My gaze drops to the kitten, now purring against her hand, already claimed by her warmth. That strange twist tugs in my chest again.

“Huh,” I mutter, sitting back slightly. “Didn’t realise cats had abandonment issues.”

She chuckles softly, eyes still on the tiny ball of fur. “It’s not about abandonment. It’s about survival.”

The words hang there between us, heavier than they should be.

And somehow, without meaning to, we’re no longer talking about cats.

Jordyn sits cross-legged and silent, her eyes flicking to me. I think she’s going to say something else, maybe tease me again, but instead, her brows pinch.

“Ares,” she says with a soft gasp. “Your shoulder...it’s bleeding.”

I glance down.

The bandage on my shoulder is soaked through, bright crimson blooming against white. Pain is there, still sharp and pulsing, but I’d stopped feeling it hours ago. Or maybe I’m just distracted.

Jordyn is already placing the kitten on the bed and rising, her steps careful as she walks over. “Sit.”

“I’m fine.”

She shoots me a look that could cut steel. “Sit. Down.”

I do as I’m told, because there’s no winning with her when she gets like this, and I honestly can’t deal with the headache. At least that’s the story I’m telling myself. It has nothing at all to do with me craving her touch as though it’s my only lifeline.

She finds the med kit without needing direction, like she’s done this a thousand times before, like she’s memorised the details of my bedroom. Then she moves behind me, perching on the edge of the mattress. Her knees bracket my back as she peels the gauze away.

She’s breathing so quietly, her breath fanning my neck, her touch gentle and careful.

“God, Ares, it looks so raw and painful.” She says, her fingers shake slightly as she wipes away the blood, but her focus never wavers.

I feel the sting of antiseptic ointment she applies over the wound and squeeze my eyes shut and draw in a slow, deep breath.

Not because of the pain from the wound, because of her, her touch, her scent wrapping around me like some kind of sweet, scented armour.

My shoulder stiffens from the tension, and Jordyn stops for a second.

“You need to relax, or I’m going to make it worse.

” She adds and then I feel the soft pressure of clean gauze.

Her touch lingers and I only realise I’m not breathing when my lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen.

“Does it hurt?” she asks quietly.

I shake my head once. “Nah, at least not the part you’re thinking of.”

Her hand lingers a beat longer before slipping away.

Then she shifts.

I hear the mattress creak, feel the dip of her weight change behind me. My skin tightens with awareness as she moves, around me, not away. Unhurriedly, like she knows I’ll bolt if she moves too fast.

I watch her as she steps in front of me, barefoot, steady, and close enough that her knee brushes mine. Her gaze doesn’t flinch, it grips me, rooting me more than her touch ever could.

Then she murmurs, so mellifluously I almost miss it.

“Then show me, Ares, show me the parts that do.”