Page 104 of Ruthless Royalty

“Chiara,” I say, my voice hoarse, but she’s already scrambling away, her breathing coming in short, panicked gasps.

“No, no, no,” she mutters, shaking her head as if trying to ward off the memory, the terror that I can see taking over her mind.

“Chiara, it’s okay,” I try to say, reaching out to her, but she recoils, pulling away from me like I’m the enemy, and it fucking breaks me.

But she’s not listening. She’s too far gone, too deep in her panic to hear me. She scrambles off the bed, her movements frantic, almost animalistic, and before I can stop her, she’s out the door, running down the hall.

I’m left standing there, my heart pounding, my hands still trembling as I try to process what just happened.

I should’ve known better. I should’ve fucking known. I should go after her, I should?—

But I can’t. Not right now. Not when I’m this fucking angry at myself.

“Fuck!” I shout, slamming my fist against the wall. The pain shoots up my arm, but I welcome it, needing something to ground me, something to take the edge off the overwhelming guilt that’s threatening to consume me.

I sit down on the edge of the bed, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm myself down. This is all wrong. She’s healing, she’s been doing so fucking well, and I’ve just gone and fucked it all up.

I think back to the look in her eyes when she flinched, the way her body froze under my touch, and I feel sick to my stomach.I never wanted this; I never wanted her to feel like this, to be reminded of what happened.

But I pushed her too far. I let my own fucking desires get in the way, and now she’s gone, running away from me like I’m the fucking monster.

I grab my phone, trying to call her, but it rings from my nightstand. I curse again, my frustration boiling over as I throw the phone onto the bed, my mind racing with all the ways this could go wrong.

She’s too fucking stubborn for her own good, and I know she’s going to blame herself for this, even though it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have pinned her like that. I should’ve known better.

But she’s been pushing, too. Pushing me, pushing herself, trying to prove that she’s not broken, that she’s still in control. And I get it, I fucking get it, but this isn’t the way to do it. This isn’t the way to heal.

Fuck, I’ve never felt so powerless in my life.

I pace the room, trying to think, trying to figure out what the hell to do. But my mind keeps replaying that moment, the look in her eyes when she flinched, when she realized she wasn’t in control. It’s like a fucking knife to the gut, and I don’t know how to make it right.

Finally, I grab my jacket, shoving it on as I head for the door. I can’t just stay here, not knowing where she is, not knowing if she’s okay. I’ll search the whole damn campus if I have to, but I’m not letting her go through this alone.

CHIARA

I’m curled up in bed, knees tucked to my chest, the blanket pulled up over my head like a barrier against the world. My mind is racing, and no matter how tightly I squeeze my eyes shut, I can’t stop the wave of guilt that’s crashing over me.

I can still feel the panic, the way it seized my chest and made it hard to breathe. And I can still see the look in Giovanni’s eyes when I flinched—shock, then pain, and finally that damn self-loathing.

He was right. He fucking warned me, and I didn’t listen. I pushed, stubborn as always, thinking I could handle it, thinking I was ready. And now, here I am, hiding under a blanket like a child because I’m too scared to face what I’ve done.

The truth is, I’m still so far from where I want to be, and I don’t know if I’ll ever get there.

I hear the door to my suite open softly, and I know it’s him even without looking. Giovanni moves quietly, but there’s always a presence to him, something that fills the room and makes it impossible to ignore him. He doesn’t say anything as he walksover to the bed, and I don’t turn around. I can’t face him right now, not after what happened.

The bed dips slightly as he slips in behind me, his body warm and solid against mine. He wraps an arm around me, pulling me close to his chest, and I feel his breath against the back of my neck.

For a moment, neither of us speaks, and the silence between us is thick with all the things I want to say but can’t bring myself to.

“Chiara,” he murmurs against my ear, his voice low and filled with an emotion I can’t quite place. “I’m sorry.”

I close my eyes, tears welling up despite my best efforts to hold them back.

“It’s not your fault,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “You warned me, Gio. You told me I wasn’t ready, but I didn’t listen. I just … I wanted to prove something to myself, and I ended up making everything worse.”

He tightens his hold on me, his hand smoothing down my arm in a gesture meant to soothe.

“You didn’t make anything worse, Kitten,” he breathes, but there’s a hardness to his tone, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as me. “I wasn’t thinking when I grabbed your wrist. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that, and I should’ve been more careful. I should’ve?—”

---