Ruthless Royalty, page 19
He doesn’t back down, but I can see the uncertainty in his eyes now. He’s out of his depth, and he knows it. But he’s too stubborn to admit it, too wrapped up in his little hero complex to see the reality of the situation.
He wasn’t trained and raised by a devil. He didn’t have blood on his hands before he even knew how to spell his own fucking name. Leo Volkov is a boy playing in a man’s world; he hasn’t learned that mercy is a weakness and hesitation gets you killed.
“Let me make one thing perfectly clear, Volkov. Chiara is mine; she fucking chose me. If you try to play the hero again, I’ll show you exactly what happens to boys who don’t know their place.” I tilt my head and smirk. “I don’t play nice and I don’t leave loose ends. So if you care about your pretty little life, you’ll keep your fucking distance. I’ve spilled more blood than you can imagine, and I won’t hesitate adding yours to the list.”
He glares at me, his jaw clenched so tight I’m surprised his teeth don’t crack. But he doesn’t say anything, just stares at me like he’s trying to figure out what his next move should be. I can see the frustration in his eyes, the realization that he’s out of options, that there’s nothing he can do to change the way things are.
“Chiara—”
“Is a grown woman who can make her own choices, so take your good intentions and stay the fuck away,” I say, stepping away from him. “Because next time I won’t be as polite by letting you walk away with just a warning.”
I let the threat hang in the air, the tension between us thick and suffocating. He knows I’m not bluffing. He knows exactly what I’m capable of, and that’s why he finally breaks, his shoulders sagging in defeat.
Without another word, he turns and walks away, his head low, his steps heavy. I watch him go, satisfaction curling in my chest. He’s learned his place, and as long as he keeps it, he won’t end up on the wrong side of me.
But if he doesn’t … Well, that’s a different story altogether.
CHIARA
Ipush the door to Studio 3 open, expecting the usual quiet solitude I crave, but instead, I’m met with the sight of Leo already there, standing in front of a half-finished canvas.
His back is to me, but the tension in his shoulders tells me he knows it’s me. For a moment, I consider turning around and leaving before he notices, but then he speaks.
“Chiara, wait.”
His voice is soft, almost pleading, and it stops me in my tracks. I take a deep breath, my hand still on the door, ready to bolt, but something in his tone makes me hesitate.
“Please,” he says, turning around to face me. “Don’t go. This is your safe space, too.”
I look at him, his expression open and vulnerable in a way that tugs at something deep inside me. Every instinct I have is telling me to walk away, to avoid whatever awkward conversation is bound to happen if I stay.
But instead, I find myself nodding and stepping further into the room, letting the door swing shut behind me.
We don’t speak as I make my way to my usual spot by the window, setting up my easel and pulling out my paints. The silence between us is heavy, almost suffocating, and I can feel Leo’s gaze on me, but I keep my eyes on my canvas, determined not to break the tension.
Minutes pass, maybe hours, and the silence only grows more uncomfortable. I try to lose myself in the colors, in the strokes of the brush, but it’s no use. My mind is too full of everything that’s happened, of Nikolai’s words, of Giovanni, of the complicated mess I’ve found myself in.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Leo breaks the silence. “I miss this,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
I don’t look up, don’t acknowledge his words, but I hear the pain in them, and it makes my chest tighten. I miss it too—the easy friendship we used to have before everything got so complicated. But I can’t go back to that, not now.
Another long silence stretches out, and I think maybe he’s given up on trying to talk to me. But then I hear his footsteps approaching, soft against the wooden floor, and I know he’s coming closer. I keep my eyes on my painting, trying to ignore the way my heart speeds up as he stops beside me.
“Chiara,” he says, and there’s something in his voice that makes me finally look up at him.
He’s holding a small envelope in his hand, and when he sees that he has my attention, he holds it out to me. “This is for you.”
I stare at the envelope for a moment before taking it from him, my fingers brushing against his as I do. I can’t help but notice how warm his hand is, how steady, despite the tension between us. I open the envelope and pull out a beautifully designed invitation.
“It’s an invitation to my gallery debut over Winter break,” Leo’s voice is quiet as he explains. “I’d really like it if you could come.”
I glance up at him, seeing the hope in his eyes, and for a moment, I’m tempted to say yes, to promise that I’ll be there. But I can’t. There’s too much going on, too many conflicting emotions, and the last thing I need is to make a promise I’m not sure I can keep.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, tucking the invitation back into the envelope. It’s a noncommittal response, but it’s the best I can do.
Leo nods, looking slightly disappointed but not surprised.
“I understand,” he says, his voice soft. “Just … know that I’d really like it if you could be there.”
I can’t bring myself to say anything more, so I just nod, my gaze dropping back to my canvas. The silence between us is almost unbearable now, and after a few more moments, Leo sighs softly.
“I should go. I have some things to take care of before the break.”
He turns to leave, but he hesitates, looking back at me one last time. “Chiara … take care of yourself, okay?”
I nod again, not trusting myself to speak. He gives me a small, sad smile before walking out of the studio, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
As soon as he’s gone, the tension in the room dissipates slightly, but it’s replaced by a heavy sense of guilt. I didn’t promise to go to his debut, but the truth is, I can’t say no to him. Not when he’s been nothing but kind to me, even when things got complicated.
But I also can’t ignore everything that Nikolai and Giovanni have warned me about.
I sit there for a while, staring at the invitation in my hand, my mind spinning with indecision. Eventually, I pack up my things and head back to my Suite.
When I get home, I’m greeted by the familiar sight of Giovanni lounging on my bed, a lazy smile on his lips as he looks up at me.
“Hey, Kitten,” he says, his voice smooth as silk. “Missed you.”
I force a smile, trying to push aside the thoughts of Leo and the invitation tucked away in my bag. “Hey, babe.”
He stands up and crosses the room to pull me into a hug, his arms wrapping around me in a way that’s both comforting and possessive.
“Long day?” he asks, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.
I nod, leaning into him, letting his warmth seep into me. “Yeah. Just … a lot on my mind.”
Giovanni pulls back slightly, his hazel eyes searching mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I say, but the word feels hollow even as I say it. I’m not sure if I’m okay, not with everything that’s been happening. But I don’t want to burden him with it, not right now. “Just tired, I guess.”
His eyes narrow slightly as he studies my face, clearly picking up on the fact that something’s off. But instead of pressing, he offers me one of his trademark grins, the kind that makes my heart skip a beat despite the heaviness in my chest.
“Hold on,” he says, his voice laced with mischief as he steps away from me. “I’ve got something for you.”
I watch as he reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. My curiosity piqued, I raise an eyebrow as he hands it to me.
“What’s this?” I ask, already feeling a little better just from the playful look in his eyes.
“Open it and find out,” he replies, his grin widening.
I open the velvet box and my breath hitches— nestled in silk is a slender chain holding a pendant shaped like a dagger.
The blade is sleek and silver, sharp and gleaming, hanging from a simple gold chain. The hilt has a twisted design, almost like a vine, and there’s a small stone set into it—maybe an opal, I’m not sure.
My eyes widen as I take in the beauty of it, but also the symbolism. It’s not just a piece of jewelry; it’s a promise, a protection, and a reminder all in one.
“Gio…” I whisper, my voice catching in my throat. “It’s beautiful.”
Giovanni takes the necklace from my hand and gently fastens it around my neck. His fingers brush against my skin as he does, sending a shiver down my spine. Once the pendant is secure, he slips his arms around me from behind and kisses the crook of my neck.
“You’ll always have a piece of me no matter where you are, Kitten,” he says, his voice low.
My heart warms at his words, the gesture sinking deeper than I expected. It’s like he knows exactly what I need, even when I don’t. I reach up to touch the pendant, feeling the cool metal against my fingertips.
“Thank you,” I say softly, turning around and meeting his gaze. “I love it!”
His expression softens further, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with something more tender.
“I’m glad you like it. I wasn’t sure if it was too much, but … I wanted you to know how much you mean to me.”
“It’s perfect,” I assure him, leaning in to kiss him. The kiss is slow, sweet, and for a moment, it helps push all the worries and doubts out of my mind.
Afterwards, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead.
“I want you thinking of me while you’re off on break. Can’t have you forgetting who you belong to, can we?”
I swear I get whiplash from him switching between sweet and possessive.
“As if I could ever forget.” I chuckle, shaking my head slightly.
“Good,” he says, satisfaction clear in his tone. He pulls me toward the bed and sits down next to me. “Now, let’s talk about break. You coming to my place, or am I invading yours?”
I let out a small laugh, grateful for the change in topic. “Actually, I was thinking … Maybe you could visit me? Things with your dad are still pretty tense, and I don’t want to make it worse by showing up there.”
Giovanni’s grin fades slightly, replaced by a more serious expression. “Yeah, he’s been a pain in the ass lately. I’d rather not deal with his bullshit while we’re trying to enjoy the break.”
I nod, relieved that he understands. “Exactly. We can have more fun at my place, anyway. No drama, just us.”
He smirks, his playful nature returning as he pulls me onto his lap. “Just us, huh? I like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” I say, resting my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “It’ll be nice to get away from everything here for a little while.”
“Agreed,” Giovanni says, his voice rumbling against my ear. “But before I pack my bags, I should probably ask Dmitri if he’s cool with me crashing at his place and ruining his stepdaughter while he sleeps. Don’t want to piss off him off, especially after the shit that’s been going down lately.”
I tilt my head to look at him, surprised by the thoughtfulness in his tone, even though he managed to slip a bit of filth in there. “You’d do that? Ask for permission?”
He chuckles, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “For you? Yeah, I would. Besides, I’m trying not to make any more enemies than I already have. Dmitri’s a powerful figure and he deserves that respect.”
His words warm my heart even more. I know how much respect Giovanni has for Dmitri, and the fact that he’s willing to take that extra step means more to me than I can put into words.
“I appreciate that, babe,” I say, reaching up to cup his cheek. “It means a lot that you’re willing to do that.”
“Don’t mention it,” he says, leaning down to kiss me again, this time a bit more lingering, more intense. When he pulls back, there’s a glint in his eyes. “But I’m still expecting you to show me a good time over break. Got it?”
I laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “I’ll do my best, Mr. Basile.”
“You better,” he teases, pulling me down onto the bed with him. We settle into a comfortable position, me curling up against him as we talk about our plans for Winter break.
“So,” he says after a while, running his fingers through my hair, “what do you want to do? Any special requests from your favorite Italian?”
I snort, rolling my eyes. “You’re really full of yourself, you know that?”
“I actually prefer you to be full of me, but here we are,” he quips, his tone so matter-of-fact that I can’t help but laugh again. “And you wouldn’t have it any other way, baby.”
“True,” I admit, playing along. “But honestly, I just want to relax. Maybe do some painting, spend some quiet time together. We could go for walks, watch movies … just enjoy each other’s company.”
Giovanni hums in approval, his hand gently massaging my scalp. “That sounds perfect. No drama, no distractions—just us.”
“Exactly,” I murmur, closing my eyes and letting the stress of the day melt away. “Just us.
GIOVANNI
I’m not easily shaken, but when a man who’s practically a legend in our circles shows up at Willow Bridge, I can’t help the chill that runs down my spine.
Dmitri Mikhailov isn’t the type to make appearances unless something serious is brewing. That’s not something I can ignore.
The man could crush half of the world’s economy with a single phone call, and he’s on his fucking way to see me. He’s here about Chiara, that much is obvious. But why come himself? Why not send one of his lackeys or even Nikolai to do the dirty work?
I’m waiting in the private lounge we keep for the Five Crowns, my mind racing as I try to figure out what the hell he’s going to say. Dmitri’s always been a figure I respected—hell, everyone respects him.
He’s one of the few who managed to keep his empire intact without becoming a complete monster in the process. But he’s also ruthless, and when it comes to his family, there’s no line he won’t cross.
The door opens, and Dmitri steps in, his presence commanding the room like he was born to rule. He has the kind of aura that makes people stand up a little straighter, watch their words a little closer.
I follow his movements, waiting for him to speak. The man is a legend, and the last thing I want is to be caught off guard. He doesn’t waste time with pleasantries, just nods at me before taking a seat.
I stay standing, unsure if this is a conversation where I’m supposed to be on my feet.
“Mr. Mikhailov,” I say, straightening my posture, knowing I should address him with the same respect I would my own father.
Not that the two men are comparable. Dmitri is as ruthless as they come, but there’s a calculation in his eyes that commands respect, even from someone like me.
“I didn’t think I’d have to make this trip, Giovanni,” he begins, his voice as cold and precise as a scalpel. He gestures for me to sit. “But you’ve left me no choice.”
I clench my jaw, already knowing where this is heading. I’ve been waiting for something like this, but the fact that Dmitri himself is delivering the message means it’s worse than I thought.
What the fuck did my father tell him?
I sat down in the chair opposite him. “You’re here because of Chiara.”
“Yes.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he fixes me with a stare that could cut glass. “I’ve heard about the … situation between you and her.”
“I’m not letting her go, if that’s what you’re here to suggest. My father already tried to threaten me,” I say, my voice steady despite the adrenaline coursing through me. “She chose to be with me.”
Dmitri’s eyes narrow slightly, but he doesn’t seem surprised by my response. “I’m not here to convince you to end things, Giovanni. I’m here to give you advice—and a warning.”
I feel a flicker of relief at his words, but it’s quickly snuffed out by the gravity in his tone. Dmitri isn’t a man who wastes words, and if he’s offering advice, it’s because the stakes are higher than I realized.
I keep my face neutral, though the thought of him issuing me a warning makes my blood boil. “What kind of warning?”
Dmitri leans closer, spreading his legs as he looks me up and down.
“Chiara is under my protection; she’s my wife’s only child. What you do with her reflects directly on me, on my family. If you mishandle this … situation, you’ll not only be dealing with your own father but with me as well. And I assure you, I’m far less forgiving than Vito.”
I feel my pulse quicken, but I don’t let it show. “I respect that, sir. But Chiara made her choice, and I won’t be the one to tell her she can’t have what she wants.”
His expression doesn’t change, but there’s a shift in the air, like the temperature’s dropped several degrees.
“That’s where you’re wrong, Giovanni. What Chiara wants is irrelevant if it threatens everything I’ve built.”
I know where he’s coming from, even if I don’t like it. Chiara is a liability, one that could be used by anyone looking to take down the Mikhailov empire or my father’s. But that doesn’t change how I feel, and I won’t let anyone dictate what happens between Chiara and me, not even Dmitri Mikhailov.
I nod slowly, understanding the weight of what he’s saying. “I get it—”
“No, I don’t think you fully understand,” Dmitri says, his voice sharpening. “My son may trust you with her, but that doesn’t mean the rest of the world will. There are people —dangerous people— who would love nothing more than to use Chiara as a pawn to get to you, or worse, to destroy you both.”
