Page 12 of Ruthless Royalty

His leather jacket clings to him like a second skin, the collar popped just enough to show off the tattoos peeking out from under his shirt. They crawl up his chest, like they’re daring you to ask what they mean.

Sharp jawline, intense eyes, and that hair—slicked back, but just messy enough to look effortless. He’s the kind of guy you know is trouble the moment you lay eyes on him, but that doesn’t stop you from wanting to find out just how much trouble he can be.

And I just know this guy is going to give me all kinds of trouble.

I sigh as I walk toward him, already feeling stressed as hell. Fuck, I am not ready for this.

“Excuse me,” I say, trying to keep my tone civil. “You’re standing in front of my locker.”

He doesn’t move, just looks me up and down with a smirk. “And?”

I bristle. “And you need to move.”

He raises an eyebrow, clearly amused, but then he looks down at his phone again, completely ignoring me.

Fucking prick. “Please move so I can get to my locker.”

“And what if I don’t want to?” he asks and looks up at me again, tilting his head to the side.

I cross my arms over my chest, trying to ignore the way my heart is pounding. “Then I guess we have a problem.”

His gaze travels over me, assessing, before it lands on the Crown pin attached to my lapel. “Who are you? You don’t look familiar,” he states, not a question but a realization.

“None of your business.”

He leans against the locker, completely unfazed. “You’re wearing a pin marking you as an elite, I think itismy fucking business.”

Sighing, I roll my eyes and am about to walk away, when he pulls me back and slams me against the locker. He cages me in with his arms and peers down at me, anger in his hazel eyes.

“Let me go,” I say through gritted teeth and try to push against him, but he stands firm.

He chuckles and I can smell spearmint on his breath. “You’ve got guts,Micetta. But you need to learn your place when talking to me.”

I bristle at the condescending term. “And where exactly is that?”

“Below me.”

“Even with this pin?” I scoff. “I don’t bow down to anyone, much less a bully.”

His eyes narrow, a dangerous glint appearing. “Who the fuck?—”

Someone calls out a name and he turns his head just as I open my mouth to retort, but then I see it—the skull and crown tattoo on the side of his neck. The same one Nikolai, Mihai, and Connor have. His leather jacket opens slightly and I see the same pin attached to his shirt. My stomach drops…

Oh fuck.

“You’re Giovanni,” I breathe, the realization hitting me like a punch to the gut.

He turns back to me and his smirk widens. “So you do know who I am, that’s a start. Now, who the fuck are you?”

“Chiara,” slips out despite the panic rising in me.

“Chiara,” he repeats, as if tasting the name. Then his eyes widen slightly. “Shit, you’re Nikolai’s new stepsister, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I reply, lifting my chin. “And I’m not afraid of you.”

He chuckles at this and steps back from me, shaking his head. “You’re not part of our world and yet you have more balls than a Made Man,” he says, crossing his arms.

“At least one of us does,” I retort.

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