Page 4 of Reckless Royalty

I grip the steering wheel harder, my jaw clenched tight. Nikolai’s always been like this—poking and prodding, never taking anything seriously unless it’s a direct threat to him.

“So, this Madison girl… she hot?” Nikolai asks, his tone too casual for my liking.

I shoot him a warning glance. “She’s not your type.”

Nikolai laughs, low and mocking. “Everyone’s my type.”

“She’s broken,” I snap, my patience running thin. “And off-limits.”

“Well, this feels familiar,” he says with a smirk. “What are you going to do if I decide to make her talk?”

“Nikolai, for fuck’s sake,” I growl.

“Right, right, the whole‘I’m her bodyguard’thing.” Nikolai taps his fingers on the armrest, eyes gleaming with amusement. “But seriously, what’s the plan? You’re gonna sit around holding her hand until she spills what she saw?”

“If it comes to that.”

He gives me a long look, but for once, he doesn’t push. Nikolai knows when to pull back, even if it’s a rare occurrence.

“Just don’t fuck it up, Mihai,” he says, his voice taking on a more serious tone. “Your old man trusts you with this. I’m sure there’s a reason he didn’t put someone else on it.”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean I have to fucking like it.” I scoff, pressing the gas harder. The dark streets blur as we pass, but my mind’s not on the road—it’s on everything my father just threw in my lap.

I saw the look in those big brown eyes when I walked in. She’s broken, not just because of what she saw, but because of the guilt she’s carrying. I could see it written all over her face. But it’s not my job to fix that. My job is to keep her breathing, nothing more.

“I have a feeling she’ll surprise you,” Nikolai adds, breaking the silence again. “I mean, she’s got to be tough to still be alive after all that, right?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I reply coldly. “She’s just a means to an end. Once she talks, she’s not my problem anymore.”

We pull into the underground parking lot of my penthouse, and I kill the engine. Nikolai hops out before I do, stretching his arms overhead like he’s just had a nice, relaxing night. Meanwhile, I feel like I’ve been put through the wringer.

Inside my penthouse, Connor and Giovanni are already waiting.

Giovanni’s sitting on one of my leather couches drinking bourbon. While Connor’s sprawled on another couch, one arm slung over the back, his usual grin plastered across his face.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Daddy’s favorite boy,” Connor says as soon as I step inside. “How’s the new gig, Mihai?”

“Fuck off, Con,” I snap, shrugging off my jacket and tossing it onto a chair. “This is serious.”

“Oh, we know,” Giovanni says, his voice low, measured. “We’ve heard all about your new assignment from our fathers.”

I shoot a glare his way. “Didn’t realize it was a topic for discussion.”

Connor chuckles, sitting up and leaning forward.

“What? We’re all just dyin’ to hear about this lass. Especially since you looked thrilled about it when you left earlier.”

I clench my teeth, pacing across the room. My penthouse feels too small with all of them in it, their eyes on me like I’m some kind of sideshow attraction.

“Madison Graves,” I say, finally stopping to face them. “5’5”, blond hair, brown eyes, the only witness to the Santiago Reyes hit and might have seen something she didn’t know was important. My father thinks she’s the key to the entire Reyes shitshow, and since he was fucking besties with Santiago, her protection detail falls on me, and by extension—us.”

Giovanni raises an eyebrow. “And she hasn’t spoken?”

“Not a word,” I confirm, running a hand through my hair. “Selective mutism due to trauma. Who the fuck knows.”

Connor whistles low under his breath. “Poor lass, that’s a tough break. You think she’ll ever talk?”

“She has to,” I say. “I’m supposed to keep her alive long enough for her to feel like talking.”

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