Page 77 of Ruthless Royalty

“No,” I say, shaking my head as I take a step back. “No fucking way, Giovanni. I’m not marrying you so soon.”

His expression darkens, and I can see the frustration building in him. “I’m trying to protect you, Chiara. This is the best way to do that.”

“You think I want to be forced into a marriage because of some bullshit mafia politics?” I snap, my voice rising. “I thought you of all people would understand why this is a fucked up idea.”

“I do understand,” he says, but his voice is tight with anger now. “But this isn’t just about you, Chiara. It’s about us. It’s about making sure we’re both safe.”

“Safe?” I scoff, crossing my arms over my chest. “You think tying me to you is going to make me safe? All it’s going to do is put a bigger target on my back. And what about what I want? What about my choices? You can’t just decide this for me.”

Giovanni’s eyes flash with anger, and he takes a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

“I’m not deciding anything for you, but I’m trying to talk to you about this. Why can’t you see that?”

“Because this isn’t what I want, Giovanni!” I fire back, feeling the frustration and fear bubbling up inside me. “I don’t want to be married to you just because it’s convenient or because it’ll keep the bad guys away. That’s not how this works. I thought we were partners, but it seems like you just want to control me.”

His jaw tightens, and for a moment, I see something raw in his eyes—something that looks like hurt. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a cold, hard expression that sends a chill down my spine.

“That’s not what this is about, and you fucking know it,” he growls, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “I’m trying to protect you. Why the hell are you fighting with me when I’m trying to have a civil conversation with you?”

“Because I’m not ready to marry you!” I scream, the wordstearing out of me before I can stop them. “I don’t want to be your fucking wife just because it’s convenient or because it makes you feel better. I want to be with you, but I need to do it on my terms, not because someone else thinks it’s the right move. What I need is for you to trust me, to let me make my own choices.”

“I do trust you!” Giovanni shouts, his frustration boiling over. “But don’t you see? This isn’t just about you making choices. It’s about keeping you alive!”

“And what if I don’t want to live my life like that?” I shout back, my emotions finally spilling over. “What if I don’t want to live in fear, always looking over my shoulder, always wondering when the next threat is going to come? What if I just want to live, Giovanni? What if I want to be with you without all this—this fucking insanity?”

Giovanni flinches like I’ve slapped him, and the anger in his eyes hardens into something colder, something that cuts deep. “Then you shouldn’t have chosen me.”

The words tear through my heart like a cold blade, and I feel the tears welling up, but I force them back, refusing to let him see how much he’s hurt me.

“Gio…” I start, but he cuts me off, his eyes flashing with anger.

“No, Chiara,” he says, his voice sharp. “I’m done talking about this. You clearly don’t trust me, and if that’s how it is, then maybe we need to rethink this whole thing.”

I feel a lump rise in my throat, but I refuse to back down. “I trust you, but this isn’t just about trust. It’s about my life, my choices. You can’t just bulldoze over that because you think you know what’s best.”

“Maybe I don’t know what’s best,” he snaps, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe I’m just a fucking idiot for thinking I could protect you, for thinking you’d actually listen to me for once.”

“Fuck you, Giovanni,” I hiss, my voice shaking with rage. “Youdon’t get to make this about you. You don’t get to act like you’re the victim here.”

He glares at me, his eyes cold as ice. “Yeah? Well, maybe you should ask yourself why you’re so fucking scared of actually committing to something real.”

The words hit me like a slap, and I feel the tears spill over, but I refuse to let him see me break.

“Get out,” I say, my voice trembling with emotion. “Just get the fuck out.”

Giovanni’s expression twists and for a moment, he looks like he’s about to say something, something that might change everything. But then, just as quickly, he shuts down, the walls slamming back into place.

“Fine,” he says, his tone as cold as ice. “If you can’t figure out what you want, then maybe we’re wasting our time.”

The words hang in the air, a final, bitter blow that leaves me reeling. I open my mouth to respond, to say something, anything, but the words won’t come. Instead, I just stand frozen as Giovanni turns and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him with a force that rattles the walls.

Maybe we’re wasting our time.

Is that really how he feels? Or was he just lashing out, trying to hurt me because I hurt him first? I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.

The tears I’ve been holding back finally spill over, and I collapse onto the bed, burying my face in my hands as the sobs wrack my body.

How did it come to this? How did everything get so fucked up so quickly? One minute, we were planning for Winter Break, talking about our future, and now… now I don’t even know where we stand. I don’t know if I’ve just lost the one person who means everything to me.

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