Page 27 of Ruthless Royalty

“I’m afraid I can’t promise that,” I say, handing his cellphone back. “What is this about?”

Leo sighs. “My last name is Volkov, Chiara.”

My eyes widen and my mouth falls open slightly. This is his Suite. How could Marina and Cat not know that?

“You’re one of them?”

He winces at this and I’m about to walk away, when he grabs my arm and pulls me close. He shakes his head.

“I’m not,” he says softly, almost pleading. “My family went legit a long time ago. We’re not involved in any of the Bratva’s business, and trust me, that hasn’t exactly made me popular around here.”

“But you still came here,” I say, my voice softer now, less accusatory. “You still chose to be part of this world.”

Leo sighs, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t choose this, Chiara. I didn’t have a choice. My family might be out of the game, but that doesn’t mean we’re free from it. My parents thought it would be safer for me to be here, surrounded by people who know the score, who won’t touch me because of who I am. And yeah, the art program here is the best. It’s what I live for. You get it, right?”

Leo hasn’t lied to me, but this new information leaves me feeling off balance. I’ve been so careful, so guarded since arrivingat Willow Bridge, and now this — Leo Volkov, the guy I’ve been opening up to, the one who drew me that beautiful sketch, is part of a life I want no part of.

The thought makes me want to run, but something in his eyes stops me. When I look at Leo, I don’t see a threat. I see a friend; someone who understands what it’s like to be out of place, someone who’s here for reasons he can’t control —just like me.

“I get it,” I finally say, the words coming out slower than I intended. “You didn’t choose this either.”

He looks at me, relief flooding his features, and there’s a warmth in his gaze that makes my heart beat just a little faster. “Thank you,” he says, his voice soft and sincere.

I let out a small laugh, trying to lighten the mood. “So, you came here for the art, huh? That’s kind of romantic in a tortured-artist sort of way.”

He grins, that playful spark returning to his eyes. “I prefer to think of it as dedicated. But hey, if you want to call it romantic, I won’t stop you.”

I roll my eyes, but I can’t help the smile that tugs at my lips. “You know, you’re not as smooth as you think you are.”

“Who says I’m trying to be smooth?” he shoots back, stepping closer. His voice drops to a low, teasing tone, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my skin. “Maybe I just like seeing you smile.”

My heart skips a beat, and I glance up at him, suddenly aware of just how close we are. There’s something in his eyes, something that makes the air between us feel charged, electric. I swallow hard; my mouth suddenly dry.

“Well, you’re doing a decent job of that,” I say, my voice a little breathless.

I don’t know if it’s the heat of the moment or the lingering tension from the day, but there’s a part of me that wants to close the distance between us, to see what it would feel like to kiss him.

“So, now that you know my last name,” Leo says, leaning in just a little closer, “does that mean I’m off the hook, or should I start worrying?”

I smirk, trying to lighten the mood. “Depends. Are you planning on keeping any more secrets from me?”

He laughs, a genuine sound that makes his eyes crinkle at the corners. “No more secrets, I promise. Well, unless you count the surprise I’ve got planned for our next studio session.”

I arch an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “Should I be worried?”

“Maybe,” he teases, his tone playful. “Or maybe you’ll just have to trust me.”

“Trust, Leo?” I tilt my head, giving him a mock-serious look. “That’s asking a lot from a girl who just found out you’ve got a pretty intimidating last name.”

He grins, and there’s a warmth in his expression that makes my chest flutter. “Fair point. How about I start by earning that trust with coffee? My treat.”

I chuckle, feeling the last of my apprehension melt away. “Coffee sounds good. I could use something to help me survive the rest of this week.”

“Great,” Leo says, his voice lowering to a more intimate tone. “And who knows? Maybe by the end of that coffee, I’ll have you convinced I’m not such a bad guy after all.”

I can’t help but smile at his confidence, the flirtation between us subtle but undeniable. “You’re really selling yourself, Volkov.”

He shrugs, his eyes never leaving mine. “I have to, considering the competition around here.”

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