Page 58 of Ruthless Royalty

The leather seats of Giovanni’s car are soft beneath me, but I’m too wired to sink into them. My heart’s still racing from the scene at Willow Bridge, the way everyone stared, the whispers that followed us all day.

But most of all, it’s the way Giovanni claimed me in front of everyone that has my pulse thrumming in my ears.

I purposefully tried not to look for Leo at all today and avoided Studio 3. I know, I’m a coward.

I chose Gio. The thought is like a spark in my mind, lighting up every nerve in my body. I chose him, and there’s no going back. I don’t want to go back.

I glance over at him as he drives, one hand casually on the wheel, the other resting on the gearshift. He looks as calm as ever, like he didn’t just throw down a gauntlet for the whole damn world to see. His jaw is set, eyes focused on the road ahead, but I can tell by the way his fingers flex that he’s just as wired as I am.

We’re driving back to his Suite, his car purring down the winding road like a beast that knows its way home. My heart ispounding, adrenaline still coursing through me from the day’s events.

I glance at Giovanni again, sitting there with that smug fucking grin, his hands gripping the steering wheel like he’s got everything under control—like he’s got me under control.

And maybe he does. Maybe I’ve let him have that power because, hell, it’s easier to give in than to fight it. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let him get too comfortable.

“You’re quiet,” he says, not taking his eyes off the road.

I cross my arms over my chest, staring out the window at the blur of trees. “Just thinking,” I say, my voice clipped. I’m trying to keep my cool, but inside I’m still reeling from everything that’s happened.

“About what?” he asks, his tone casual, but there’s a sharp edge to it that tells me he’s waiting for something more than just small talk.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “About how we just turned everything upside down back there.”

He glances over at me, his expression unreadable. “And how do you feel about that?”

“Relieved,” I admit, the word slipping out before I can stop it.

He doesn’t respond right away, just keeps his eyes on the road, but I can see the way his lips twitch up at the corners, like he’s trying to hide a smile.

“Yeah?” he says finally, his voice low and rough. “You sure about that, Kitten? No regrets?”

“Not a single one,” I say, and I mean it. It’s the first time in a long time that I’ve felt like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

He finally turns to look at me, that cocky smirk playing on his lips. “Well, I’m yours, baby. I’ve been yours since you gave me shit the first day we met. I just didn’t know you claimed me already.”

The way he says it, so fucking casual, like it’s the most naturalthing in the world, makes my heart skip a beat. This is him laying it all out there, no bullshit, no games.

And it’s everything I’ve wanted to hear.

But I’m not about to let him see that. I snort, shaking my head. “You were a pain in my ass the first day we met, Gio. You still are.”

He laughs, that deep, rumbling sound that does something to me every time. “Yeah, but you like it. Admit it.”

I narrow my eyes at him, even though I can feel the corner of my mouth twitching up in a smile. “Don’t push your luck.”

He reaches over, his hand sliding up my thigh, and it’s like his touch sets my skin on fire. “Oh, I’m pushing it, alright,” he says, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that makes my stomach flip. “Because you and I both know how this ends.”

I shiver at the feel of his hand on me, the heat of his palm seeping through the fabric of my dress. He’s right; I do know how this ends. We’ve been circling each other for so long, it’s inevitable.

But there’s a part of me that still wants to fight, that doesn’t want to make it easy for him. I push his hand away, ignoring the way my body protests.

“You think you’ve got me all figured out, don’t you?” I challenge, trying to keep my voice steady.

Giovanni pulls his hand back, resting it on the gearshift, but I can feel his eyes on me. “I know you better than you think, you little brat. And I know you want this just as much as I do.”

There’s a weight to his words, a finality that makes my chest tighten. He’s not wrong. I do want this—I want him. But it scares the shit out of me, too, because wanting him means giving up control, and that’s not something I’m used to.

“Maybe I do,” I admit quietly, more to myself than to him. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to make it easy for you.”

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