Page 106 of Ruthless Royalty

The Beretta feels heavy in my hand, the cool metal reassuringagainst my palm. My fingers curl around the grip, and I take a deep breath, making sure the safety is still on. I’m not here to hurt him—never that. This is about power, about control, about taking back what was taken from me.

The water shuts off, and a few moments later, I hear the sound of the door opening. Giovanni steps inside, a towel slung low around his hips, droplets of water still clinging to his skin. He’s moving with that effortless confidence that’s so inherently him, heading straight towards where his sweats are.

I follow, moving quietly, my heart pounding harder now. This is it.

Giovanni doesn’t notice me as he reaches for a pair of sweats. His back is to me, scarred, broad and muscular; the epitome of strength. I swallow hard, steadying myself.

Raising the gun, I press the barrel against the back of his head, my voice low but steady. “Don’t move.”

He freezes, his body going tense under the weight of the gun, and for a split second, I see a flash of something primal in his eyes when he glances over his shoulder. But then it fades, replaced by recognition, understanding.

“Chiara,” he breathes out, his voice low and dangerous, but there’s a hint of something else—pride. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Turn around slowly,” I command, ignoring the tremor in my own voice. I need to be strong. I need to do this.

He does as I say, turning around to face me, his eyes locking onto mine. There’s no fear in his gaze, only curiosity and a hint of something that looks like pride. He knows what this is—he knows I’m taking back the power I lost.

“Drop the towel,” I say, my voice firm, unwavering.

A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t hesitate. The towel falls to the floor, leaving him completely exposed, completely vulnerable. God, I’ve always loved his body; lean,muscular, and so fucking perfect. He’s playing along, letting me take the lead, but I can see the tension in his muscles, the way his eyes never leave mine.

“On your knees,” I order, the words coming out stronger than I expected.

His smirk fades, replaced by a seriousness that sends a shiver down my spine. I step closer, the Beretta still aimed at his head, safety on—and I feel a rush of power, of control.

This is what I need; this is what I’ve been missing. I’m not helpless. I’m not broken. I’m in control.

For a moment, he doesn’t move, and I wonder if he’s going to push back, if this is going to be a battle of wills. But then, slowly, he lowers himself to his knees, his head bowed slightly, exposing the nape of his neck to me.

“Kneel,” I repeat, more for myself than for him, and he shifts slightly, settling more comfortably on the floor. His gaze is intense, burning into me, but I hold it, refusing to back down.

“What now, Kitten?” he asks, his voice low and rough. “You’ve got me where you want me. What are you going to do with me?”

I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his question. He’s testing me, pushing me to see if I’ll falter, if I’ll lose the nerve. But I won’t. Not this time.

“I’m going to make sure you know I own you,” I reply, my grip on the gun tightening. “And you’re going to kneel and remember that.”

I see the way his eyes flicker with something dark and dangerous. He’s still playing along, but I can see the edge in him, the way he’s waiting for me to take the next step.

“Do you trust me, Gio?”

“With my life,” he answers without hesitation, and I know he means it.

“Then don’t move and put your hands behind your back,” I whisper.

He doesn’t flinch at my tone, doesn’t hesitate to put his hands behind his back. He just watches me, his eyes burning with intensity, waiting to see what I’ll do next.

I keep the gun against his head, my eyes locked on his. My heart is pounding, adrenaline rushing through me, but I force myself to stay calm, to stay in control.

I reach out with my free hand, brushing my fingers lightly across his jaw, and he closes his eyes for a brief moment, as if savoring the touch. Then, I smirk as an idea comes to me.

“Who would’ve thought? The mighty Giovanni Basile on his knees … right where he belongs,” I say with a smirk, tilting my head to the side. “All that power, all that ruthlessness, and yet here you are … mine to command.”

He grins, and his hazel eyes flash with pride. “I’ll kneel for you whenever you want, Kitten,” he says, his voice low. “I’ll fucking worship you for the rest of my life,Mia Regina.”

“Then take off my jeans,” I order, and his eyes widen. I watch as he swallows deeply before popping the buttons on my jeans and sliding it down. “My panties, too.”

His eyes snap to mine, uncertainty slipping into his features, but I push the gun harder against his head. He seems to take this as me being okay with this and slides my underwear down.

---