Page 32 of Ruthless Royalty

I fire off two quick shots, the paintballs slamming into the bark where her head was just a second ago. She’s already gone, darting further into the forest, disappearing into the shadows once again.

She’s leading me on a wild chase, and as much as it pisses me off, I can’t help but admire her for it. She’s not giving up. She’s fighting, and I can’t lie—it’s making this hunt more fun than I anticipated.

I crash through the underbrush, my eyes locked on her as she darts between the trees, her movements quick but frantic. She’s running out of steam. I can see it in the way her steps are faltering, the way her shoulders are hunched in exhaustion.

She’s slowing down.

This is my chance.

I push forward, gaining ground with every step, my heart pounding in my chest. I’m close—so close I can practically taste the victory. Then, just as I’m about to close the distance between us, she does something unexpected.

She stops.

I skid to a halt, confused for a moment as I watch her standing still, her back to me; that sexy as fuck tattoo on full display. Her chest is heaving with labored breaths, her hands on her knees as she tries to catch her breath.

“What are you doing,Micetta?” I call out, my voice low and mocking. “Giving up already?”

She doesn’t answer.

I raise my gun, taking aim, ready to put an end to this. But something makes me hesitate. Something in the way she’s standing, in the way she’s not even trying to run anymore.

“Chiara?” I ask, my voice softer now, more cautious.

She straightens up slowly, turning around to face me. Her green eyes are bright, defiant, but there’s something else there too—something I can’t quite place.

“You think you’ve won, Giovanni?” she asks, her voice steady despite the exhaustion.

I narrow my eyes, keeping my gun trained on her. “I know I have.”

She smirks, and for the first time tonight, I see something in her that makes me pause. Confidence. Control. Like she knows something I don’t.

And then she lifts her hand and I see the locket.

Her item. The one she’s been hunting for all night.

She found it.

“I win,” she says, her smirk widening as she holds it up, taunting me with it.

I stare at her for a long moment, my grip on the paintball gun tightening. I should be pissed; I should be furious that she’s outplayed me, that she’s won.

But all I can do is grin.

GIOVANNI

Connor’s voice booms through the trees, carrying that usual edge of mischief he can never hide.

“Well, well, look who made it out alive!” He claps his hands together as the five remaining initiates stumble back into the clearing, covered in dirt, sweat, and splatters of red paint. “Congratulations, you fuckin’ heathens. You survived the Night Hunt.”

I stand back, leaning against one of the massive oak trees as I watch them. Chiara’s in the group, her eyes darting to me, and there’s that spark of defiance again. She’s not gloating, but she doesn’t have to. The way she holds herself tells me enough.

I shove my hands into the pockets of my jacket, trying not to think about how she played me back there, how she knew I was hunting her and still outmaneuvered me. I should be pissed. Hell, I am pissed. But the way she handled herself? It’s hard not to respect that. Annoying as hell, but impressive.

Connor steps up to the group, slinging his paintball gun over his shoulder. “Alright, you earned your place for now. But don’tget too comfortable. Legacy Week isn’t over yet, and trust me, the worst is still to come.”

The leftover initiates exchange nervous glances, but they’re too tired to say anything. Chiara meets my eyes again, and for a second, it’s just us. There’s something there, something unspoken, but before I can figure it out, Connor’s voice snaps me back to reality.

“Let’s get the hell out of here and head back to the Volkov Suites. We’ve got a party to finish, and I’m not about to let a little hunt ruin my buzz.”

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