Page 30 of Ruthless Royalty

I grunt, not really in the mood to discuss my fucked-up headspace with Connor. “Just want to make sure everything goes according to plan,” I say, sliding the mask off again. “Lets fucking go.”

GIOVANNI

The initiates exchange nervous glances when we pull up, clearly trying to size each other up. Chiara is off to the side, without her high heels, and she’s on edge. Good. She should be.

Connor walks towards them, a paintball gun slung casually over his shoulder.

“Here’s the deal. We’re huntin’ you,” he says, his voice taking on that playful, twisted edge that tells me he’s already enjoying this more than he should. “You’ve got two hours to find your shit in the forest. We’ve hidden somethin’ important to each of you—something you’ll need to find if you want to finish Legacy Week.”

I step up next to Connor, adjusting the holster strapped across my chest. The weight of it feels good, familiar. But the paintball guns aren’t just for show. It’s psychological warfare. Break them down with a few good shots, see how they crack under pressure. If they’re smart, they’ll make it out. If not? Well, that’s on them.

I look out over the initiates, my eyes locking onto them one by one, watching as their fear starts to settle in. This isn’t some simple game. It’s a test, a brutal one. We’re here to see who cankeep their head while being hunted, who can stay calm when everything around them is falling apart.

“We’re giving you a ten-minute head start,” I say, my voice cold, hard. “After that, we’re coming for you. If we catch you before you find what we took, you’re out. Simple as that.”

A few of the initiates’ faces pale, and I catch the faintest flicker of fear in their eyes. Good.

Mihai’s standing to my right, loading his paintball gun like he’s bored out of his fucking mind. “Remember,” he drawls, barely looking up, “you’ve got two hours. Stay ahead of us, keep your heads down, and maybe you won’t get hit.”

He says it like it’s not a big deal, but we all know Mihai’s a crack shot. If he’s aiming at you, you’re as good as fucked.

There’s a long pause, the initiates shifting nervously under the weight of our stares. I can see them trying to steel themselves, but the tension in the air is thick, almost suffocating. They know what’s at stake.

“Go,” Connor says suddenly, his voice cold.

For a moment, nobody moves. Then, as if they’ve all been given permission to breathe again, the initiates take off running, scattering into the dark forest like they’ve got a pack of wolves on their heels. Which, to be fair, they fucking do.

I watch them disappear into the treeline, my fingers flexing on the grip of my paintball gun. There’s a thrill that comes with this—the hunt, the chase. It’s primal, and every part of me is ready for it.

I glance at Nikolai. He gives me a small nod, and I know he’s thinking the same thing. This is when we separate the weak from the strong.

“They’re gonna break,” I mutter.

Nikolai smirks. “They always do.”

“You ready to make these fuckers sweat?” I ask, glancing over at Mihai.

He shrugs, a lazy smirk pulling at his lips. “I’ve been ready since this morning.”

We wait in silence, the seconds ticking by as the forest swallows the initiates whole. Then, when the ten minutes are up, Connor raises his paintball gun and fires a single shot into the air. The sound echoes through the trees, sharp and final.

“Alright, boys,” Connor says, his grin wide and dangerous. “Let’s go huntin’.”

We move as a unit, slipping into the forest like shadows. The thrill of the hunt pulses through me, my blood singing with the anticipation of the chase. The forest is dense, but I know every inch of it. I’ve hunted here more times than I can count.

The first initiate I spot is crouched behind a fallen log, his breathing fast and panicked. Rookie mistake—he’s not hidden well enough, and he’s making too much noise. I raise my paintball gun, take aim, and fire. The shot hits him square in the back, and he lets out a yelp before scrambling to his feet.

“Too slow, Morrone,” I call out, watching as he stumbles through the trees, his chance of winning already gone.

I hear a shout from somewhere deeper in the forest, followed by the unmistakable sound of another paintball shot. Mihai’s found one of them, and by the sound of it, they’re not going down quietly.

I push forward, moving silently through the underbrush. Every crack of a branch, every rustle of leaves—it all tells me where they are. They think they’re being careful, but in reality, they’re giving themselves away with every step.

I catch another one, hiding up in a tree like a fucking squirrel. He doesn’t even see me coming before I nail him with a shot to the shoulder. He yelps, nearly losing his grip on the branch, but I’m already gone, moving on to the next.

“Get the fuck back to the SUVs, Griffin,” I say before setting offagain.

This isn’t about winning for us, it’s about breaking them. Making sure they understand that in our world, there’s no room for weakness. You either rise to the occasion or get crushed under the weight of it.

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