Page 111 of Ruthless Royalty

In the center of the room is a chair, and tied to it, bruised and wide-eyed, is Leo. He looks different now—smaller, weaker, like a shadow of the man who once tried to take everything from me. His head snaps up as we enter, and when he sees me, his eyes widen in fear.

“Chiara…” he croaks, his voice rough and trembling. “Please … you don’t have to do this. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Just … let me go, please.”

“Funny, I said those exact words to you before you drugged me,” I say, crossing my arms.

I stand there, staring at him, and I’m surprised by the absence of fear, of hesitation. The old me might have flinched, might have questioned whether this was the right thing to do.

But I’m not that person anymore. The events of the past few months have forged me into something harder, something stronger. And tonight, I’m going to prove it.

Giovanni steps up beside me, his hand slipping around my waist, grounding me, anchoring me to this moment.

“You’re not scared,” he murmurs, his voice low and full of dark pride. “That’s my fucking queen.”

I nod, my gaze never leaving Leo’s. “I’m not scared,” I agree, my voice steady. “Not anymore.”

Leo’s eyes dart between us, his fear palpable, and I can see the desperation in his face, the realization that there’s no way out.

“Chiara, please,” he begs, his voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just … I was following orders. You have to understand, it wasn’t personal.”

I tilt my head slightly, considering his words, but there’s no sympathy in my heart. There’s only the cold, hard truth of what needs to be done.

“It wasn’t personal,” I echo, my voice calm. “But this is.”

Giovanni pulls a knife from his pocket, the blade glinting in the dim light, and hands it to me without a word. The weight of it in my hand feels natural, like it belongs there, and I take a deep breath, feeling a sense of clarity wash over me.

“Do what you need to do,” Giovanni says quietly, his hand resting on my back, a silent support. “Take back what’s yours, Kitten.”

I step forward; the knife held steady in my grip, and Leo’s eyes widen even further, his breathing becoming rapid, panicked.

“Chiara, no, please,” he pleads, struggling against the ropes that bind him to the chair. “You don’t have to do this. I’ll disappear, I swear. You’ll never see me again. Just … please.”

His voice is pathetic now, filled with a fear that should have been mine. But it isn’t. It’s his, and it’s all he has left.

“You took something from me, Leo,” I say, my voice calm, measured as I watch him piss himself. “And now, I’m taking it back.”

I raise the knife, and for a split second, everything seems to slow down. I can hear the sound of my own breathing, the soft shuffle of Giovanni’s feet as he steps back to give me space, the faint hum of the light bulb overhead. And then I bring the knife down, the blade slicing through the air with a deadly finality.

Leo lets out a strangled gasp, his body jerking as the knife finds its mark in his throat. I don’t flinch, don’t hesitate. I drive the blade deeper, my hand steady, my resolve unshakable. The world narrows down to this single moment, this single act, and I feel a dark satisfaction as I watch the light fade from Leo’s eyes.

When it’s done, I pull the knife out, the sound of it slipping free of his flesh filling the silence. Blood drips from the blade, pooling on the floor beneath the chair, but I don’t feel anything but a cold sense of justice. This was necessary. This was right.

I let the knife fall from my hand, the clang of metal onconcrete echoing in the room, and step back, my breath coming in slow, even gasps.

I’ve done it. I’ve taken back what was mine and proven to myself—and to Giovanni—that I’m not weak. That I’m worthy of standing by his side.

Giovanni is beside me in an instant, his arms wrapping around me, pulling me close. His hand cups my face, tilting my chin up so I’m looking into his beautiful hazel eyes, and the pride shining in them makes my heart swell.

“I’m so fucking proud of you.”

My heart is pounding in my chest, and for the first time since I made him kneel for me, I feel truly powerful.

“I did what I had to do,” I say quietly, but there’s a strength in my voice that wasn’t there before. “I’m not scared anymore, Gio.”

He leans down, pressing a hard, possessive kiss to my lips, and I can feel the pride, the love, the raw emotion pouring from him.

“You were never scared,” he growls against my lips, his hand tightening on my waist. “You just needed to remember who the fuck you are.”

I kiss him back, fierce and unyielding, pouring all of my newfound power, all of my reclaimed strength into that kiss. When we finally pull back, both of us breathless, I feel like I can take on the world.

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