Page 98 of Ruthless Royalty

“You’re leaving,” he says, his voice low and measured, but there’s an edge to it, a sharpness that cuts through the air.

“Yes,” I reply, my voice steady despite the way my heart races. “I’m going back to the Mikhailov estate. Thank you for your hospitality”

“My hospitality,” he scoffs and steps closer, his gaze never leaving mine. I’m struck by the venom in those two sentences alone, and find myself stepping back from him.

“You think you can just waltz into my son’s life, don’t you?” he says, his eyes narrowing as he takes in my appearance, his gaze filled with disdain. “You think that just because you’ve survived a few bumps in the road, you’re somehow worthy of him?”

I swallow hard, but I don’t let the fear show on my face. This is Giovanni’s father, the man who rules with an iron fist, the one who shaped Giovanni into the man he is today. But I won’t back down. Not now, not ever.

“With all due respect, Mr. Basile, I didn’t‘waltz’into Giovanni’s life,” I say, my voice firm despite the racing of my heart. “We found each other. And I didn’t survive a few bumps—I survived a fucking nightmare. If that’s not enough for you, then frankly, I don’t give a damn. I know where I stand with your son, and that’s enough for me.”

I swallow hard, refusing to let him see the fear bubbling beneath the surface.

“Oh, you know where you stand, do you?” He sneers, stepping even closer, his presence suffocating. “I see you for what you truly are. You’re nothing but a distraction, a weakness. Giovanni deserves better than someone like you.”

His words sting, but I refuse to back down. I lift my chin, meeting his gaze with a defiance that surprises even me.

“You’re right,” I say, my voice cold. “I’m not good enough forGiovanni. But that’s for him to decide, not you. As far as I’m concerned, I’m willing to fight for him, no matter what you think.”

His eyes narrow, and for a moment, I see a flicker of something dark, something dangerous.

“You think you can handle this life? You think you can handle what comes with being with my son? You’re playing with fire, girl. You’re going to get burned.”

I can feel the anger simmering beneath my skin, a heat rising in my chest that pushes back against the fear.

“I know what I’m getting into. I’m not naïve, and I’m not afraid of you. Your son tried the same shit with me on the first day we met, and trust me when I say I can survive another Basile who thinks he’s a King.”

He lets out a cold, humorless laugh, his eyes gleaming with malice. “Big words for such a small girl. But you should be scared of me, though. Because the moment you let your guard down, the moment you think you’re safe, I’ll be there. You might have Dmitri’s blessing, but that doesn’t mean you’re safe from me.”

My pulse quickens, but I don’t flinch. Instead, I take a step closer to him, refusing to let him see the fear he’s trying so hard to instill.

“You think you can scare me?” I say, my voice steady even though my heart is pounding in my chest. “You think I haven’t faced worse than you? I have the blood of a killer running through my veins too, Mr. Basile. But lucky for you, I’m more like my mother.”

He stares at me, his eyes narrowing in surprise, as if he didn’t expect me to have the guts to stand up to him. But before he can respond, the door swings open, and Giovanni steps into the room, his eyes blazing with fury.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” he demands, his voice alow growl as he steps between me and his father, his posture tense and ready for a fight.

His father smirks, but it’s a cold, empty expression. “Just having a little chat with your girlfriend,” he says, his tone mocking. “Making sure she knows exactly what she’s getting into.”

“Get the fuck out,” Giovanni snaps, his voice hard and dangerous. “Now.”

For a moment, the tension in the room is so thick I can barely breathe. But then, to my surprise, his father steps back, a cruel smile playing on his lips.

“You’ve got balls, girl,” he says, his gaze flicking to me one last time. “Let’s see how long you can keep them.”

With that, he turns and walks out of the room, leaving a heavy silence in his wake. Giovanni watches him go, his fists clenched at his sides, the muscles in his jaw working as he tries to rein in his anger.

As soon as the door closes behind his father, he turns to me, his expression softening as he looks me over, checking for any signs of distress.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s still ready to go after his father if I say the word.

I nod, feeling a rush of relief now that his father is gone. But there’s also a strange sense of pride swelling in my chest, knowing that I stood up to him, that I didn’t let him intimidate me.

“I’m fine, Gio,” I say, offering him a small smile. “I handled it.”

His eyes soften even more, and the tension in his shoulders seems to ease a little. “I’m proud of you,” he says, his voice filled with admiration. “You didn’t let that bastard scare you.”

“I was fucking terrified,” I admit, feeling the adrenaline start to fade, leaving me a little shaky. “But I wasn’t going to let him know that. He doesn’t get to decide whether I’m good enough for you. That’s our decision.”

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