Page 91 of Ruthless Royalty

My heart stutters at her words, and I frown, trying to make sense of what she’s saying. “What are you talking about?”

She inhales shakily, wiping at her tears with the back of her hand. “Chiara, there’s something I need to tell you. Something I should have told you a long time ago, but I was so scared. Scared for you, scared for us … scared of this…”

I feel my chest tighten, dread pooling in the pit of my stomach. “Mom, what is it?”

She takes a deep breath, as if steeling herself, and then she starts to speak, her voice trembling. “Your real father … his name is Alberto Giannini.”

I frown, the name not sounding familiar at all. Should I know them? “Who?”

“He’s … he’s part of the Italian Mafia. When I found out I was pregnant with you, I knew I had to get away from him, from that life. I ran, Chiara. I ran to protect you, to give you a chance at a normal life. But he … he never stopped looking for us.”

I feel like the ground is slipping out from under me, my worldtilting on its axis. Leo’s words about someone sending him making too much sense now.

“So … so all of this… it was because of him? He was the one who sent Leo after me?”

She nods again, tears filling her eyes. “Yes. He found us, Chiara. He found us, and he set this up—everything with Leo, with the Volkovs. He wants to force you into marrying Leo so that the Volkovs can appear legitimate while working with the Giannini family. It was all a setup, from the beginning.”

The room spins, and I have to close my eyes, trying to steady myself. Everything I thought I knew, everything I believed about my life, about who I am, is crumbling around me. My real father is a Mafia boss.

Holy fucking shit.

“Mom … I…” I don’t know what to say. I’m in shock, my mind reeling from the revelation. But I know one thing for sure—I don’t blame her. She was trying to protect me, just like she always has.

Before I can say anything more, there’s a soft knock on the door, and my mother stiffens, quickly wiping at her eyes.

“Come in,” she says, her voice wavering.

The door opens slowly, and Giovanni steps into the room. The sight of him makes my heart clench painfully in my chest. He looks exhausted, his face drawn and pale, his eyes shadowed with worry and guilt. But it’s the way he looks at me—like he’s seeing a ghost—that breaks something inside me.

My mother stands up, wiping her tears as she walks over to him. She hugs him tightly, and I catch a few words of what she says in Italian, something about taking care of me, about being strong for me.

Giovanni nods, his expression grim, and she gives him a small, sad smile before leaving the room, giving us space.

The door clicks shut behind her, and for a moment, Giovanni and I just stare at each other, the silence heavybetween us. Then he moves closer, his eyes never leaving mine, and I can see the guilt, the anger, the pain written all over his face.

“Chiara,” he says, his voice rough with emotion. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

Tears prick at my eyes, and I shake my head, trying to push back the emotions threatening to overwhelm me. “You don’t have to apologize, Gio. This … this wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was,” he says, his voice breaking. “I should have been there. I should have made this right before we came home and protected you. But I didn’t, and now … now you’ve been through hell because of me.”

I reach out to him, my hand trembling, and he takes it, his grip tight, almost desperate. “Gio, you couldn’t have known this would happen. And you did protect me—you found me. You saved me.”

His eyes glisten with unshed tears, and he squeezes my hand, his voice thick with emotion. “But I wasn’t there when it mattered most. I wasn’t there to stop it before it started.”

I shake my head again, more tears spilling over. “Don’t do this, Gio. Don’t blame yourself. I don’t blame you. You came for me, and that’s all that matters.”

He looks at me, his expression filled with so much pain, so much guilt, that it makes my heart ache.

“Chiara … I’m in your life now. I’m not going anywhere, and nothing like this will ever happen again. I swear it.”

I nod, feeling a small flicker of hope amidst the darkness that’s been threatening to swallow me whole. “How did you find me?”

He smiles, a small, bittersweet smile as he reaches out and gently touches the dagger pendant around my neck.

“This,” he says softly. “It has a tracking device in it. I put it there because I wanted to make sure I could always find you, in case something like thisever happened.”

I stare at the pendant, my heart swelling with emotion. He was always looking out for me, even when I didn’t realize it.

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