Ruthless Royalty, page 22
The words cut deep, and I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. I don’t want to cry in front of him, don’t want to show any more weakness than I already have, but it’s hard. It’s so damn hard.
I wipe my eyes, my mind a whirlwind of emotions. “So what? You’re saying I should just give up my freedom, my independence, and marry Giovanni because it’s the safest option?”
“I’m saying you need to think carefully about what’s at stake,” Dmitri replies, his voice steady. “This is not about giving up your freedom—it’s about protecting yourself and the people you care about. It’s about making a decision that could mean the difference between life and death.”
I understand what he’s saying, but it feels like I’m being asked to give up so much, to sacrifice everything I thought I wanted for the sake of survival.
I swallow hard, nodding again as I stand to leave. “Thank you, Dmitri. I … I appreciate you talking to me about this.”
He nods, his expression unreadable. “Good night, Chiara.”
I don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know if I can live in a world where my choices are so limited, where every decision I make has life-or-death consequences. But I also don’t know if I’m strong enough to walk away, to leave Giovanni behind and try to go back to the life I used to have.
I don’t know if that life even exists anymore.
As soon as I get to my bedroom, I pick up my cell phone and send a text. Before I make up my mind about Giovanni, I need to do this one thing first.
GIOVANNI
As my car pulls up to the Mikhailov estate, I can feel the tension in my shoulders, a tightness that’s been building ever since that goddamn fight with Chiara when we left Willow Bridge.
I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about everything that went down, playing it over and over in my mind until I couldn’t take it anymore. I knew I couldn’t just sit on my ass and let things fester. If I want to fix this, I need to do it in person. No calls, no texts—just me showing up, face-to-face, and making things right.
As I’m nearing the gate, my phone buzzes. It’s Nikolai.
“Gio,” he says, his voice sharper than usual, almost frantic. “Is Chiara with you?”
I blink, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “No. Why would she be with me? I’m literally at the gate of your estate, coming to see her.”
There’s a brief silence on the other end before Nikolai curses under his breath. “Shit.”
A cold dread starts to settle in my gut. “What the hell’s going on, Nikolai?”
He exhales heavily, like he’s struggling to keep it together. “Chiara’s gone. She gave the guards the slip last night.”
I slam my hand against the dashboard, barely holding back the surge of anger and panic crashing over me. “What the fuck? I’ll be there in five minutes.”
I hang up before he can respond, my foot pressing down harder on the gas.
By the time I pull up to the Mikhailov estate, I’m barely keeping my temper in check. The massive iron gates swing open, but I’m already out of the car before it fully stops, storming toward the front entrance.
Nikolai is pacing at the top of the stairs, looking like he’s about to snap. Next to him are Mihai and Connor, both of them tense, their expressions mirroring the worry etched on Nikolai’s face. This isn’t the usual crew I’m used to—their calm, calculating demeanor is gone.
As soon as Nikolai sees me, he rushes over. “She’s really not with you?” His voice cracks, something I’m not used to hearing from him.
“No, she’s not fucking with me!” I snap, the frustration spilling out as my mind spins. “You think I wouldn’t tell you if she was? Where the fuck is she?”
Nikolai runs a hand through his hair, the composure he usually carries barely hanging on by a thread. “She left a note. Said she was going to New York to see someone and would be back soon. We assumed she was coming to you, since your territory is New York.”
The dread swirling in my chest turns into full-blown panic. My territory. If she’s gone into Brooklyn without protection…
“Why the fuck didn’t you call me earlier?” I growl, feeling the anger simmering beneath the surface.
“We thought she was with you!” Nikolai barks back, his frustration matching mine. “Until now, I was sure of it.” He stops pacing and locks eyes with me. “Who the fuck did she go visit, then?”
“I don’t know,” I say, pulling out my phone, my hands trembling slightly as I navigate to the GPS app. “But I’m going to find out.”
“What are you doing?” Mihai says, eyeing me suspiciously. His voice, usually smooth, is clipped with tension.
“I gave her a gift before break,” I explain, focusing on the screen. “A dagger pendant. It has a tracking device embedded in it. Just in case something like this happened.”
Connor lets out a low whistle, crossing his arms as he watches me with a raised eyebrow. “Did she know about that little addition, mate?”
I shoot him a look, smirking though it feels hollow. “No, she didn’t. But I wasn’t about to take any chances with her safety, especially not with everything that’s been going on.”
Nikolai shakes his head, a begrudging respect flickering in his eyes. “Of course, you’d do something like that. Always got to be in control, huh?”
“Damn right,” I mutter, staring at the screen as the GPS signal pings. A red dot appears on the map—Brooklyn. My stomach drops.
“There,” I say, showing the others the screen. “She’s in Brooklyn. Near the docks.”
“Shit,” Mihai curses, running a hand through his dark curls. “That’s a fucking warzone right now, with everything going down between your family and the Giannini’s.”
“I don’t know what the hell she’s doing there, but it’s not a place she should be alone,” I grit out, fury boiling under my skin.
Connor shoots me a sharp look. “What’s the plan, G? We can’t just go bargin’ in there without backup.”
“We need to move, now,” I snarl, already heading toward my car. “We can talk plans on the way.”
Nikolai grabs my arm, stopping me. “We can’t go in there alone, Gio. You know what’s happening in Brooklyn. If Chiara gets caught up in that mess, we’re fucked. We need more than just the four of us.”
I rip my arm away, the frustration boiling over. “We don’t have time for this! She’s out there—”
“Exactly. You really think we’re walking in there blind? No. We’re getting backup.”
Nikolai doesn’t wait for my response. He’s already moving, heading towards the door that leads to Dmitri’s study.
“Let’s go,” he says over his shoulder, his tone leaving no room for debate. “My father needs to know what’s happening, and we need to bring as much firepower as we can.”
I follow him, my jaw clenched. The Giannini’s wouldn’t hesitate to use Chiara against me if they found out who she was. And if she got caught in the middle of something...
No. I can’t think like that.
We burst into Dmitri’s study without knocking, and the Pakhan looks up from his desk, his expression darkening at the sight of us. He’s a man who’s seen it all—war, bloodshed, betrayal—and he’s not easily rattled. But as Nikolai quickly explains the situation, I see a flicker of something in Dmitri’s eyes that sends a chill down my spine.
It’s fear—an emotion I’ve rarely seen on his face.
“Are you telling me,” Dmitri starts slowly, his voice deadly calm as he gets to his feet, bracing his hands on his desk, “that my stepdaughter is in Brooklyn alone, in the middle of a war between two Mafia families?”
Nikolai nods, his expression grim. “That’s exactly what we’re saying.”
Dmitri’s gaze shifts to me, and I can see the accusation in his eyes, even before he speaks.
“This is what I was fucking scared of when I spoke to her the other night,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We should have called you to check if she was there. Shit, Giovanni, what the fuck did you say to her?”
My anger flares at his tone, but I swallow it down. Now isn’t the time to start trading blame.
“We almost broke up,” I say, my voice tight. “She didn’t tell me where she was going, and I didn’t know where she was until we tracked her. But now that we know, we need to move. We can’t stand around and argue, sir.”
Mihai and Connor exchange glances, standing off to the side but tense, ready to spring into action.
“Dmitri, we need to move fast. She’s in Brooklyn, and you know how bad that area is with the Giannini’s moving in. If we don’t get to her soon—“ Mihai doesn’t finish, but the implication is clear. Time is running out.
“We’ve got the manpower, boss,” Connor adds. “We just need to know if we’re doing this with a full squad, or if we go in more covert. Either way, we need to move now.”
Dmitri sighs, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. “If anything happens to her—”
“It won’t,” I cut him off, meeting his gaze with as much determination as I can muster. “But we need your help, sir. We need men, firepower—whatever you can spare. I’m not going in there half-cocked, not with her life on the line.”
For a moment, Dmitri just stares at me, his expression unreadable. Then he nods, a quick, decisive motion.
“You’ll have it. I’ll send a few with you—my best men. They’ll be at your command.” He turns to Mihai and Connor. “You two are going in with them. Keep things tight and get Chiara back. Understood?”
Mihai grins, though there’s no humor in his eyes. “Understood, Dmitri.”
“No problem, boss. We’ll make sure she’s safe and sound,” Connor mutters,
Dmitri turns to Nikolai. “Make the arrangements. I want them armed to the teeth. We’re not taking any chances with this.”
Nikolai nods and steps out to make the necessary calls, his voice low and urgent as he barks orders into his phone. Meanwhile, Dmitri turns back to me, his expression softening just a fraction.
“Giovanni,” he says quietly, and there’s a note of something like regret in his voice. “I know this isn’t easy for you. But you need to understand … Chiara’s more than just a girl you care about. She’s part of this world now, and it seems like word has spread. You have to be ready to do whatever it takes to protect her. We can’t wait for her to make up her mind anymore.”
I grit my teeth, hating that he’s right. I’ve been trying to protect her, but the truth is, she’s already in it—neck-deep—and pretending otherwise won’t do either of us any good.
“I know,” I say, my voice rough. “That’s why I’m here.”
Dmitri studies me for a moment longer, then nods. “Good. Because if you fail her, there will be no place on this earth where you’ll be safe from me. Do you understand?”
I meet his gaze head-on, letting him see the fire in my eyes. “I won’t fail her.”
“See that you don’t,” Dmitri says, then turns as Nikolai re-enters the room, phone in hand.
“They’re ready,” Nikolai announces. “We leave in five.”
Dmitri looks between the four of us, his expression hardening. “Bring her back, Giovanni. Whatever it takes.”
“I will,” I promise, then turn and follow Nikolai out of the room.
The air outside the study is thick with tension, but there’s no time to dwell on it. We move quickly, heading to the front of the estate where a convoy of black SUVs is already waiting, Dmitri’s men loading up weapons and gear.
It’s a well-oiled machine, a testament to the efficiency of the Mikhailov Bratva. These men know what they’re doing, and they’re prepared for anything.
As we approach, Nikolai steps closer to me, his voice low. “You sure about this, G? We’re walking into a war zone, and Chiara … she’s not trained for this shit.”
“I know,” I say, my jaw tight. “But she’s also smart, and she’s got more guts than half the men in that convoy. We’ll find her, and we’ll get her out.”
Connor chuckles darkly from behind me. “Always the optimist, eh?”
I don’t bother responding to that, my mind already racing with thoughts of how to approach the situation. I have to get her out—failure is not an option.
We load into the SUVs, the team Dmitri promised trailing behind us, and I grip the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles turn white.
“She’s in your territory,” Nikolai says from the passenger seat, his voice hard. “This is on you.”
I glance over at him, my jaw tight. “And I’ll fix it.”
Mihai leans forward from the back seat, his voice low. “We’re not going in blind. We know the layout of the docks, we know who we’re dealing with. We just need to stay sharp.”
Connor, always the cocky one, grins. “And hope they’re as dumb as they look.”
Nikolai shoots him a look. “We’re not banking on luck here.”
“I know, I know,” Connor mutters, still grinning. “But a little Irish luck never hurt anyone. That’s why I’m here.”
We pull away from the estate, the convoy following behind, and I feel the weight of everything pressing down on me. I can’t let her down. I can’t fail.
Because if I do, there will be nothing left for me.
CHIARA
My head is pounding, a dull, insistent ache that makes it hard to think, hard to focus. My mouth is dry, and there’s a strange metallic taste on my tongue, like I’ve bitten down on something too hard.
I try to move, but my body feels heavy, sluggish, like I’m wading through molasses. It takes me a moment to realize that my wrists are bound, tied tightly to the bedposts above my head.
Panic starts to bloom in my chest as I struggle against the restraints, but it’s no use. The ropes are too tight, biting into my skin every time I try to pull free.
I blink against the harsh light, my vision swimming as I try to make sense of where I am. The room is unfamiliar—bare walls, no windows, just a single door on the far side that’s closed.
Dread coils in my gut and my skin crawls when I realize I’m inside a shipping container.
Where am I? How did I get here?
I’m hyperventilating when I see him, sitting in a chair at the foot of the bed, watching me with a calm, almost bored expression.
Leo.
The sight of him jolts me fully awake, the fog in my brain clearing just enough for me to remember. I went to his gallery opening. I was nervous, but I wanted to support him, to show him that I still cared, even after everything that had happened between us. He handed me a glass of champagne, we toasted … and then nothing.
“Ah, you’re awake,” he says, his tone almost casual, like we’re just having a normal conversation. “I was beginning to wonder how much longer you’d be out.”
“Leo,” I manage to croak, my voice rough and weak. “What the fuck is this? What did you do to me?”
He doesn’t answer right away, just tilts his head slightly as he watches me struggle. There’s something in his eyes that I don’t recognize, something dark and unsettling.
His gaze roaming over me in a way that makes my skin crawl. “I didn’t do anything, Chiara. Well, not yet, anyway.”
I tug at the restraints, my panic growing as I realize just how tightly I’m bound. “Untie me, Leo. This isn’t funny.”
“Funny?” Leo repeats, his smile widening as he sits down on the edge of the bed, too close for comfort. “No, Chiara, this isn’t funny. But it is interesting.”
“Interesting?” I echo, my voice rising as the fear claws its way up my throat. “What the hell are you talking about? Why am I here?”
Leo tilts his head to the side, studying me like I’m some kind of puzzle he’s trying to figure out.
“I’ve always wondered what you saw in Giovanni,” he muses, almost to himself. “What it was about him that made you choose him over … well, over someone like me.”
My blood runs cold at his words, and I struggle against the restraints, my heart pounding in my chest.
“This is insane, Leo. Let me go.”
He ignores my plea, reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from my face, his touch light but sending a shiver of revulsion down my spine.
“Was it the danger, Chiara? The thrill of being with someone who’s so … hands-on?”
I jerk my head away, glaring up at him with as much defiance as I can muster. “This isn’t you, Leo.”
“Oh, but it is,” he says softly, his eyes gleaming with something dark and twisted. “You just never took the time to see it. Always so focused on Giovanni, on your little Mafia prince. But now … now you’re going to see a different side of me.”
My breath catches in my throat as I realize what he’s saying, what he’s implying. “Leo, don’t do this. Please, stop. You don’t have to do this.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in it, only a cold, bitter edge.
“Stop? Why would I stop now? I’ve been sent to take you, to deliver you to someone who’s very interested in having a chat with you. But no one said I couldn’t have a little fun first.”
My stomach drops, and a wave of nausea washes over me as his words sink in. “Who sent you?” I ask, my voice trembling.
He doesn’t answer right away, just reaches out to trace a finger down my cheek, his touch sending a shudder of revulsion through me.
“That’s not important,” he says finally, his tone dismissive. “What’s important is that I get what I want before I hand you over.”
“Leo, please,” I beg, my voice breaking as I struggle against the restraints, desperation clawing at me. “Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it. I’ll do whatever you want—just please, don’t do this.”
He hesitates for a moment, and for a fleeting second, I think I’ve gotten through to him. But then he shakes his head, a cold smile curling his lips.
“You don’t get it, do you, Chiara? This isn’t about money. This is about taking something that belongs to someone else, and making it mine.”
