Chiara
CHIARA
I hate him.
When Nikolai and Mihai mentioned that Giovanni was arrogant, I didn’t expect this much assholery. What the fuck? Who does he think he is?
It’s only my second day, and he’s made both days unbearable. I can’t even think about the gorgeous syllabus because I have that prick’s taunts on repeat in my head.
“I’m gonna kill him,” I grumble as I cut through a tomato while preparing a sandwich for lunch. “Next time I see him, I’m sticking this knife so far up his?—”
“Easy there, warrior princess, I don’t think you want the Cosa Nostra Prince’s blood on your hands.”
I look up when I hear Nikolai’s voice and see the amused look on his face. He’s leaning against the door with his arms crossed and his head tilted to the side.
“Oh, I think I do want his blood on my hands. He’s a fucking asshole!” I exclaim and put the knife down before I hurt myself with it .
Nikolai chuckles and walks over to me, grabbing a slice of tomato from my cutting board and popping it into his mouth.
“He’s not exactly known for his charm, but he’s not going to kill you. At least, not physically.”
“That’s so reassuring,” I mutter sarcastically, grabbing the sandwich bread. “How do you deal with him?”
“With a lot of patience and the occasional threat. I grew up with the guy, and he may be like a brother to me, but we all know what a tool he is,” he replies, leaning against the counter. “He’s used to getting his way, but that doesn’t mean you have to give in.”
“I’m not planning to,” I say. “But it’s like he’s made it his mission to make my life hell.”
“Welcome to Willow Bridge,” Nikolai says with a wry smile. “Everyone has their trials. Giovanni’s just happens to be a big, annoying one. Trust me, , he’s not worth the trouble.”
“Easy for you to say,” I mutter, glaring at the tomato like it’s Giovanni’s face. “You’re not the one he’s targeting.”
Nikolai shrugs. “True, but I know him well enough to say he’s doing this because you’ve got under his skin.”
I raise an eyebrow, incredulous. “Under his skin? Me? I haven’t done anything to him!”
“Exactly,” Nikolai says with a smirk. “You’re different. You’re not fawning over him or scared of him like everyone else. He doesn’t know how to handle that.”
“Well, he needs to figure it out fast because I’m not going to put up with his bullshit,” I snap, slapping two slices of bread together with more force than necessary.
Nikolai watches me for a moment, his expression thoughtful. “You know, you could always play along.”
I pause, my hands hovering over the sandwich. “Play along? What do you mean?”
“Give him a taste of his own medicine,” Nikolai suggests. “ Show him that you’re not someone to be messed with. Use that fire of yours.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “And how exactly do you suggest I do that?”
He grins. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll think of something. You’re pretty creative when you’re angry. Remember that shiner you gave Mihai when he offered to help train you?”
I grin and as if I summoned him, Mihai strolls into the kitchen with his usual swagger on full display. “What’s all this about killing Giovanni? Can I join in?”
“Get in line,” I mutter, rolling my eyes.
Mihai laughs and grabs an apple from the fruit bowl. “Seriously though, , don’t let him get to you. He thrives on that shit.”
“Yeah, well, I’m about ready to throttle him,” I say, taking a bite of my sandwich. The tangy tomato and creamy cheese do little to calm my nerves.
“Violence isn’t the answer, you know,” Mihai says, winking. “At least, not yet. Let’s save that for special occasions.”
I groan, leaning against the counter. “I just don’t get why he’s like this. Is he really that insecure?”
Nikolai shrugs. “Maybe. Or maybe he just sees you as a challenge. Either way, you’ve got to stand your ground.”
“I am standing my ground,” I say, frustrated. “But it’s like he’s got this endless supply of ways to make me miserable.”
“Then outsmart him,” Nikolai suggests. “Use that brain of yours. Turn the tables on him.”
I look between the two of them, considering their advice. They’re right; I can’t let Giovanni’s games get to me. I need to show him that I’m not someone to be toyed with.
“Fine,” I say, determination settling in. “I’ll outsmart him. But if he pushes me too far, I’m not responsible for my actions.”
Mihai grins. “That’s the spirit! Give him hell, . ”
I nod, feeling a spark of resolve. Giovanni Basile might think he can intimidate me, but he’s about to learn that I’m not backing down. If he wants a fight, I’ll give him one. And I’ll make sure he regrets ever trying to mess with me.
T he next day, I’m determined to avoid the prick as much as possible. I stick to my classes, keep my head down, and try to focus on anything other than his smug face. It’s going well until I round a corner and almost collide with him.
“Watch where you’re going, Micetta ,“ he says, his tone dripping with condescension.
I grit my teeth and step back, glaring at him. “I wouldn’t need to watch where I’m going if you weren’t slinking about the corridors like you own the place.”
Wrong move, . He does kind of own the place.
He smirks, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Still feisty, I see. I was hoping yesterday would have taught you some humility.”
“Humility isn’t something you can teach, especially when you don’t even possess it,“ I retort, crossing my arms.
His smirk falters for a moment before he regains his composure. “You really don’t know when to quit, do you?”
“I’m not even doing anything to you,” I say firmly. “You’re the one who keeps looking for shit with me.”
He takes a step closer, his eyes narrowing. “You’re playing with fire, .”
“No, I’m standing up for myself,” I reply, refusing to back down. “You might think you’re untouchable because of your last name, but I’m not scared of you, Giovanni.”
He laughs, a low, dangerous sound. “We’ll see about that in Legacy Week. Just remember, every game has its consequences. ”
Legacy Week? Where have I heard that before?
“I’m well aware,” I say, my voice steady. “But I’m not going to let you win.”
He steps back, a glint of admiration in his eyes. “Good. I like a challenge.”
“You’re a fucking asshole,” I say, trying to walk past him, but he grabs my upper arm and pulls me close to him.
“Ladies shouldn’t be talking like that.”
“Go fuck yourself, Basile.”
He chuckles, a dark, humorless sound that vibrates through me. “Is that an invitation, Micetta? Because if it is, I have to say, I expected something a bit more... eloquent.”
I roll my eyes, trying to pull free, but he just pulls me closer, our bodies practically pressed together now.
“You’re disgusting,” I bite out, hating the way my pulse quickens despite my anger.
“And yet,” he says, tilting his head as if considering me like a puzzle he’s determined to solve, “here you are, still arguing with me. Almost like you enjoy the attention.”
“Attention?” I scoff. “You’re delusional. I’d rather eat glass than be anywhere near you.”
His eyes darken, a flash of something dangerous flickering there as his grip on my arm softens just a touch, almost like a caress.
“Careful, babygirl,” he warns, his voice dropping lower. “You can’t win against a Crown.”
“Maybe,” I shoot back, lifting my chin defiantly. “But at least I’m not afraid to play.”
His smile widens, wicked and full of promise. “That’s what I like about you,” he says, his tone almost admiring. “You’ve got fire. Shame I’ll have to be the one to put it out.”
Then he lets me pull my arm out of his grip and I walk away with my heart pounding in my chest.