Page 63 of Ruthless Royalty

Good. That’s exactly where I want to be.

I turn back to the door, my hand on the knob, and take a deep breath before stepping back inside. Chiara’s still asleep, her face peaceful, oblivious to the storm that’s brewing outside.

I crawl back into bed, pulling her close, and as she sighs and snuggles into my chest, I tell myself that I’ll protect her. That no matter what happens, I’ll keep her safe.

But deep down, I know my father’s right. I can’t help but wonder if I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.

GIOVANNI

I’m sitting in the middle of a lecture on global economics, but the professor’s voice is nothing more than background noise. My mind is miles away from the classroom, back on that balcony, hearing my father’s words on repeat.

End it, now. Before I end it for you.

The bastard didn’t even hesitate to threaten Chiara. Hell, he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through if he thought it would get me in line.

He’s done worse for less.

My hands clench into fists on the desk, the pencil I’m holding snapping in two with a sharp crack. A few heads turn, but I don’t give a damn.

All I can think about is how I got to this point. I wasn’t supposed to be here, in this position, carrying the weight of our family’s legacy. That was supposed to be Armand. He was the golden boy, the heir to everything.

Until he wasn’t. Until our father decided he wasn’t good enough, strong enough, ruthless enough.

My stomach twists, remembering the way Armand used to be.Confident, charismatic, the kind of guy people just naturally gravitated towards. He was the son our father wanted, the one who was supposed to lead the family to even greater heights. And then, in the blink of an eye, it all crumbled.

The old man pushed him too hard, expected too much, and when Armand couldn’t meet those impossible standards, our father snapped. He didn’t just disown him, he killed him. He made an example out of his own flesh and blood, all to teach me a lesson.

Don’t fail.

That’s been drilled into my head since I was six years old, beaten into me, screamed into me until it became my fucking gospel. I watched my brother fall from grace, and in his place, I was molded into something I never wanted to be.

The perfect heir, the ruthless successor.

And now I’ve gone and fucked it all up over a girl. A girl I can’t let go of, even if it means tearing everything else down around me. All the abuse, all the training—it was all to make me a weapon.

Now, as I sit in this lecture hall, I realize just how deep the scars go.

My thoughts are shattered when the professor’s voice pierces through my fog. “Giovanni, could you please explain the impact of monetary policy on emerging markets?” he asks, looking directly at me.

I blink, momentarily stunned. “Uh, sure,” I mumble, trying to scramble together a coherent response. “Monetary policy can significantly influence emerging markets by affecting interest rates and inflation. High interest rates might deter investment, while low rates could spur economic growth. It’s a balancing act.”

The professor nods, but I can tell from the look on his face that I’m far from convincing. I’m not just distracted; I’m failing toengage with the material. The rest of the lecture drags on, each word a blur as I try to shake off the memories.

But they cling to me, making it impossible to focus on anything else. When the professor finally dismisses us, I’m the first one out of the room. I need air, space, something to clear my head before I lose it.

Out in the quad, I spot Chiara near the art studios, her long hair catching the sunlight as she talks to one of her classmates. She’s so different from everything I’ve ever known—fierce, passionate, unpredictable. She’s a wildfire, and I can’t help but be drawn to her, even though I know she’ll burn me alive if I’m not careful.

As I approach, she glances up, her eyes locking onto mine. There’s a flicker of concern there, and I know she sees through the mask I’m trying to keep in place. She always does.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping away from her friend. “You okay?”

I force a grin, trying to play it off. “Of course. Just been a shit morning, that’s all.”

She doesn’t look convinced. “You’ve been off since last night. Don’t lie to me, Gio.”

Fuck. She’s not going to let this go. And the truth is, I don’t want to lie to her, but I also can’t drag her into the shitstorm that’s brewing, not when she’s already in danger just by being with me.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s my father. He’s … he’s not happy about us.”

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