Ruthless Royalty, page 20
“I can protect her,” I say, my voice firm.
Dmitri leans back in his chair, studying me with an unreadable expression. “Can you? Protection isn’t just about keeping her safe from physical harm. It’s about understanding the politics, the alliances, the enemies you’ve made just by being who you are. Are you prepared for this, Giovanni? Are you prepared to have a living, breathing weakness that can be exploited?”
I don’t hesitate. “I am.”
He nods, as if he expected that answer, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—doubt, maybe. Or maybe it’s just that he knows the game better than I do, and he sees the pitfalls that I haven’t yet encountered.
“There’s only one way to truly protect her,” Dmitri says after a long pause, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “And that’s to make her as untouchable as your last name.”
His words hang in the air between us, and I know exactly what he means. But the idea of it, the weight of what he’s suggesting, makes my stomach twist.
An arranged marriage. It’s the only way to ensure that Chiara is safe from the vultures circling around us. If she’s my wife, it solidifies her position and makes it clear to everyone that she’s off-limits.
But how the fuck? We’ve only been together for a week, and now proposing marriage? She’s going to think I’m fucking insane.
I won’t lie, I’ve thought about the possibility of marrying Chiara to secure her place, but I never thought it would come to this so soon. I’m not ready for it, not by a long shot.
“You’re not ready,” Dmitri says, as if reading my thoughts. “ Readiness is irrelevant when it comes to survival. You know that.”
I grit my teeth, hating that he’s right. It’s one thing to claim Chiara, to protect her, but marriage? That’s a whole different level of commitment, one that comes with its own set of complications.
“I don’t think she’ll go along with this,” I admit, the words bitter on my tongue.
Dmitri’s gaze sharpens. “Then you better figure out how to change her mind before that choice gets taken away.”
The warning is clear, and I know it’s not just a threat. Dmitri’s the kind of man who doesn’t make idle promises. If he says he’ll do something, he’ll damn well do it.
“I’ll think about it,” I say, though the thought alone makes my head spin.
Dmitri nods, seemingly satisfied with my answer for now. But there’s still something in his eyes, a coldness that makes me feel like I’m standing on thin ice.
“Don’t take too long, Giovanni,” he says, his voice low and dangerous. “The world doesn’t wait for you to be ready. If you care about Chiara, you’ll do what needs to be done. And if you don’t … I will.”
With that, Dmitri turns and walks toward the door, his presence still suffocating even as he leaves the room. I stand there, watching him go, feeling like the ground beneath my feet is shifting, like everything I thought I had under control is slipping through my fingers.
When the door clicks shut behind him, I let out a breath and pinch the bridge of my nose. His warning hangs heavy in the air, and I can’t shake the feeling that no matter what I choose, I’m fucked.
GIOVANNI
I’m pacing the length of my Suite, my thoughts a tangled mess of what-ifs and how-the-hells.
This wasn’t how I pictured spending my night, but after Dmitri’s warning last week, I can’t get his words out of my head.
Marry her. As if it were that simple. As if I could just solve everything with a ring and some vows. Like marriage would be a magic shield against all the shit coming our way.
I stop in front of the window, looking out at the moonlit campus of Willow Bridge, but the view does nothing to calm the storm in my head.
Fuck, I need to talk to someone about this before I drive myself insane. There’s only one person who might have a clue what the hell I’m supposed to do next. But I don’t know if he even wants to speak to me anymore.
“Fuck it,” I say and grab my phone, dialing Nikolai’s number. He picks up on the second ring.
“G,” he says, his voice cautious. “What’s up?”
“I need to talk,” I reply, trying to keep the frustration out of my voice. “You busy?”
There’s a pause, then a sigh. “Not really. You want to meet up?”
“Yeah, your place?”
“Fine. Give me ten.”
“Be there,” I say, ending the call and grabbing my jacket.
The walk to Nikolai’s Suite is short, but it feels like it takes forever. When I finally reach his door, I knock twice, and it swings open almost immediately.
“What’s going on, G?” he asks, stepping aside to let me in.
I walk past him and into where I know his bedroom is, running a hand through my hair. Thank fuck Chiara and the others are having a sleepover at Mihai’s Suite. I can’t deal with having her here right now when I’m not in the right headspace.
“Your old man came to see me.”
Nikolai sighs, closing the door behind me. “Yeah he told me he would be coming. What the hell did he say?”
I turn to face him, my mind still reeling from the conversation from a few days ago. “He thinks I should marry Chiara.”
Nikolai’s eyes widen slightly, but he recovers quickly, crossing his arms over his chest. “What, just like that? He walks in, drops that bomb, and leaves?”
“Pretty much,” I mutter, dropping onto the couch. “He says it’s the only way to keep her safe. Said it would make her untouchable.”
Nikolai nods slowly, processing the information. “Sounds like something he would say. Telling you to marry Chiara is his way of making sure she’s under control, tied to you—and by extension, tied to him. My father plays the long game, G. He’s always thinking five steps ahead, and if he sees an opportunity to solidify his power, he’ll take it.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, I’m definitely not fucking ready for this. I mean, marriage? That’s a whole different ball game. It’s not just about us anymore—it’s about everything that comes with it.”
Nikolai takes a seat across from me, his expression serious. “You care about her, don’t you?”
I don’t even hesitate. “Yeah. I do.”
“Then if marrying her is the only way to keep her safe, you need to consider it. But don’t do it because my father told you to. Do it because it’s what’s right for her.”
I let out a frustrated sigh, running my hand through my hair again.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know if it’s right for her. I don’t know if it’s right for us. We’ve been through so much shit already, and throwing marriage into the mix … it could complicate everything.”
Nikolai leans back, his gaze steady. “You’re overthinking this, G. You’ve already claimed her in every other way—making it official wouldn’t change much, except give her more protection.”
“But what about her?” I ask, my voice tight. “I can’t just make that decision for her.”
Nikolai gives me a pointed look. “Have you talked to her about it?”
I shake my head, feeling like an idiot. “No. I wanted to figure things out first. I didn’t want to dump this on her without knowing where I stand.”
“That’s your first mistake,” Nikolai says bluntly. “Chiara’s not some delicate flower, we both know this.”
I stare at him, letting his words sink in. He’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. Chiara’s stronger than anyone gives her credit for, and I know she’d want to be part of this decision, not just swept along by it.
“What are you saying?” I ask, frowning.
“I’m saying that you need to talk to her,” Nikolai replies, his voice calm but firm. “You need to lay it all out on the table and let her decide what she wants. If you want to do this right, you need to see how she feels about it.”
I nod slowly, taking in his words. It makes sense, but it doesn’t make the decision any easier.
“I’ll talk to her. But what if she says no? What if she doesn’t want to get married?”
“Then you’ll find another way to keep her safe,” Nikolai says, his tone resolute. “You’re Giovanni Basile, for fuck’s sake. When have you ever had to rethink shit? You’ll figure it out.”
I let out a dry laugh, shaking my head. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Nikolai stands up, walking over to me and clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Look, man … I know this is a lot to take in. And I know you’re not the type to back down from a challenge. But you need to remember that this isn’t just about you. It’s about Chiara too. Whatever you decide, make sure it’s what’s best for her.”
I nod, appreciating his words more than I can say. “Thanks, I needed to hear that.”
“Anytime,” he replies, his expression softening slightly. “Just … don’t let my father get into your head. I love him, but he’s a master manipulator, and he’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants.”
“I won’t,” I promise, my resolve hardening. “This is my decision, not his.”
“Good,” Nikolai says, stepping back and giving me a small nod of approval. “Now, go talk to her. Figure out what the hell you’re going to do.”
I take a deep breath, feeling a mix of anxiety and determination. “I will. Thanks, man.”
There’s a moment of silence between us, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. Then Nikolai speaks again, his tone more casual.
“You know, if you do go through with this, there’s going to be a hell of a party.”
I snort, shaking my head. “Of course that’s where your mind goes.”
“What? You can’t tell me you haven’t thought about it,” he says, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “The Basile-Mikhailov wedding? It’s going to be the event of the century.”
“Yeah, because that’s exactly what I need—more attention,” I reply dryly, but I can’t help the small smile that creeps onto my face.
Nikolai chuckles, the tension easing slightly. “Whatever happens, you’ve got my support. You’re family regardless, G. Now go figure your shit out, and if you need anything, you know where to find me.”
“I will,” I say again, feeling a bit lighter as I head for the door. But before I leave, I turn back to him. “And Nikolai?”
He looks up. “Yeah?”
“I’m sorry about everything that’s happened,” I say, the words coming out more sincere than I expected. “I know things have been rough between us, but … I appreciate your support.”
Nikolai blanches, but he hides his surprise and he nods. “We’ve all got our shit, G. But at the end of the day, we’re all family. Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” I say, meaning it.
Later as I walk back to my own Suite, I find myself thinking about the future, about what it would mean to make that commitment, to tie our lives together in a way that can’t be undone. It’s a big step, one I’m not sure I’m entirely ready for, but if it’s what’s best for Chiara—if it’s what will keep her safe—then I’ll do it.
But first, I need to hear it from her. I need to know that she’s with me, all the way.
CHIARA
The night before we’re supposed to leave for Winter break, I’m sitting in my room, staring at the half-packed suitcase on my bed. My mind is a mess, tangled with thoughts of what’s happened over the past few weeks, and more than anything, I just want a break from it all.
A part of me is looking forward to going home, to having some time away from Willow Bridge and all the drama that comes with it.
But of course, nothing in my life can ever be that simple.
A knock on my door startles me out of my thoughts and I know who it is before I even open it. Giovanni’s the only one who knocks like that—firm, confident, as if he owns whatever space he’s about to enter.
When I open the door, his expression is serious in a way that immediately puts me on edge. This isn’t the playful, cocky Gio I’m used to. Something’s wrong.
He looks tense, his jaw set, and there’s a storm brewing in his dark eyes that immediately puts me on edge.
“Hey,” I say, trying to keep my voice light, but there’s an edge of anxiety I can’t quite shake.
“Can we talk?” he asks, stepping into the room without waiting for an answer.
That’s another thing about Giovanni—he doesn’t ask for permission; he just takes what he wants. Most of the time, I find it endearing, but tonight it rubs me the wrong way.
“Sure,” I say, closing the door behind him. “What’s going on?”
He doesn’t sit down, just paces the length of my room like a caged animal. “There’s something we need to discuss before we leave for break.”
My stomach tightens. The way he’s talking, the look on his face, it’s like he’s about to drop a bomb on me. And judging by the tension radiating off him, I’m not going to like what he has to say.
“Okay … what is it?” I ask cautiously, crossing my arms over my chest as if to shield myself from whatever’s coming.
He stops pacing and turns to face me, his eyes locking onto mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away, but I don’t.
“Dmitri came to see me about a week ago,” he says. “He thinks … he thinks we should get married.”
I can’t even process the fact that my stepfather came all the way here to see him before the follow up sentence made my heart drop. For a moment, I can’t even breathe; I just stare at him, waiting for him to tell me this is some kind of joke. But the seriousness in his eyes tells me he’s dead serious.
“Married?” I finally manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Are you out of your mind?”
“Chiara, just hear me out,” Giovanni says, his voice firm but not unkind. “Dmitri thinks it’s the best way to keep you safe. If we’re married, no one can touch you. It’s not just about us, it’s about making sure you’re untouchable even to my father.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head as I take a step back. “No fucking way, Giovanni. I’m not marrying you so soon.”
His expression darkens, and I can see the frustration building in him. “I’m trying to protect you, Chiara. This is the best way to do that.”
“You think I want to be forced into a marriage because of some bullshit mafia politics?” I snap, my voice rising. “I thought you of all people would understand why this is a fucked up idea.”
“I do understand,” he says, but his voice is tight with anger now. “But this isn’t just about you, Chiara. It’s about us. It’s about making sure we’re both safe.”
“Safe?” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “You think tying me to you is going to make me safe? All it’s going to do is put a bigger target on my back. And what about what I want? What about my choices? You can’t just decide this for me.”
Giovanni’s eyes flash with anger, and he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming.
“I’m not deciding anything for you, but I’m trying to talk to you about this. Why can’t you see that?”
“Because this isn’t what I want, Giovanni!” I fire back, feeling the frustration and fear bubbling up inside me. “I don’t want to be married to you just because it’s convenient or because it’ll keep the bad guys away. That’s not how this works. I thought we were partners, but it seems like you just want to control me.”
His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I see something raw in his eyes—something that looks like hurt. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a cold, hard expression that sends a chill down my spine.
“That’s not what this is about, and you fucking know it,” he growls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m trying to protect you. Why the hell are you fighting with me when I’m trying to have a civil conversation with you?”
“Because I’m not ready to marry you!” I scream, the words tearing out of me before I can stop them. “I don’t want to be your fucking wife just because it’s convenient or because it makes you feel better. I want to be with you, but I need to do it on my terms, not because someone else thinks it’s the right move. What I need is for you to trust me, to let me make my own choices.”
“I do trust you!” Giovanni shouts, his frustration boiling over. “But don’t you see? This isn’t just about you making choices. It’s about keeping you alive!”
“And what if I don’t want to live my life like that?” I shout back, my emotions finally spilling over. “What if I don’t want to live in fear, always looking over my shoulder, always wondering when the next threat is going to come? What if I just want to live, Giovanni? What if I want to be with you without all this—this fucking insanity?”
Giovanni flinches like I’ve slapped him, and the anger in his eyes hardens into something colder, something that cuts deep. “Then you shouldn’t have chosen me.”
The words tear through my heart like a cold blade, and I feel the tears welling up, but I force them back, refusing to let him see how much he’s hurt me.
“Gio…” I start, but he cuts me off, his eyes flashing with anger.
“No, Chiara,” he says, his voice sharp. “I’m done talking about this. You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s how it is, then maybe we need to rethink this whole thing.”
I feel a lump rise in my throat, but I refuse to back down. “I trust you, but this isn’t just about trust. It’s about my life, my choices. You can’t just bulldoze over that because you think you know what’s best.”
“Maybe I don’t know what’s best,” he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe I’m just a fucking idiot for thinking I could protect you, for thinking you’d actually listen to me for once.”
“Fuck you, Giovanni,” I hiss, my voice shaking with rage. “You don’t get to make this about you. You don’t get to act like you’re the victim here.”
He glares at me, his eyes cold as ice. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so fucking scared of actually committing to something real.”
