Page 110 of Ruthless Royalty

We lay there in silence for a while, just holding each other,and I can feel the tension that’s been building between us for so long finally start to dissolve. It’s been a long road, but we’re here now, together, and that’s all that matters.

I let my fingers trace lazy circles on his chest, the rise and fall of his breath steady under my touch. There’s a contentment in the air, a quiet that feels almost sacred, but I can’t help but revisit what just happened, the way he responded to me.

“So,” I start, keeping my voice light and teasing, “you’ve got a bit of a praise kink, huh?”

I feel him stiffen slightly, just for a moment, before he relaxes again. I glance up at him, half-expecting to see that usual cocky grin on his face, but instead, there’s something else—something softer. His cheeks are faintly pink, and it takes everything in me not to smile at the sight.

Giovanni Basile, Cosa Nostra Prince, Mafia Heir, is blushing. Who would’ve thought?

I decide not to call him out on it, letting him have this moment. Instead, I just lean my head against his shoulder, waiting for him to say something, anything.

He’s quiet for a second, and I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he lets out a long breath, his hand tightening slightly on my waist.

“Yeah,” he admits, his voice low, almost reluctant. “I didn’t expect that … didn’t expect to like it as much as I did.”

I tilt my head to look at him, his expression more serious than I’m used to. “What did you think when I called you that?” I ask, genuinely curious.

He chuckles, but there’s no humor in it, just a kind of acceptance.

“At first, I fucking hated it. I hated how good it felt to hear you say that, to feel like I needed your approval.” His eyes flick down to meet mine, and I see a vulnerability therethat makes my heart ache. “But then … I don’t know. It just clicked. I liked it. More than I should have.”

I smile softly, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “You accepted it.”

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough with honesty. “I accepted it, and I realized that I’m only weak for you, Chiara. You’re the only one who gets to see that side of me.”

I let his words sink in, feeling the weight of them, the trust he’s placing in me. It’s not something Giovanni would give lightly, and I know that.

“You know,” I murmur, tracing a line down his chest, “I could get used to this.”

He raises an eyebrow, a hint of that familiar smirk returning. “Oh, yeah? What, bossing me around?”

I laugh softly, shaking my head. “No, not just that. Knowing that I’m the only one who can do this to you. That I’m the only one you’re willing to be vulnerable with.”

His eyes soften, and he pulls me closer, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

“You can use it anytime you like,” he whispers, his voice full of that dark promise that never fails to send a shiver down my spine. “As long as it’s you, I’m all yours.”

I smile, a warmth spreading through my chest as I nestle closer to him.

“Good,” I whisper back, my lips brushing against his skin. “Because I like having you like this, Gio. Just for me.”

Giovanni’s arm tightens around me, and I nuzzle closer, feeling the warmth of his body seep into mine.

He’s mine, and I’m his. And that’s all that matters.

EPILOGUE - CHIARA

The hallway leading to the basement of the Crowns’ meeting place feels longer than it should, each step echoing in the silence like a drumbeat.

Giovanni’s grip on my hand is firm but not tight, a silent reassurance that he’s with me, that this is something I need to do. The surrounding walls are dimly lit, the air thick with the weight of unspoken history—this place has seen things, dark things, and tonight it’s going to see something else.

I can feel my heart beating in my chest, a steady rhythm that matches the pace of our footsteps. But I’m not scared. Not anymore. That part of me, the part that flinched, that doubted, that feared—that part is gone.

Giovanni told me I needed to do this, that it was the final step in taking back what was lost. And I believe him. I trust him with everything I am.

We reach the door at the end of the hall, a heavy steel thing that looks like it belongs in a fortress. Giovanni lets go of my hand, just for a moment, to push it open, and I feel the cool air from the basement wash over me.

The space is dimly lit, the only light coming from a single bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long shadows on the concrete floor.

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