Giovanni
GIOVANNI
T he sun is barely up, and I’m already on edge. The kind of restless energy that makes my hands itch for action, that makes my blood run hotter than usual. I’ve spent the entire night thinking about Chiara, about the way she said she’s mine, only mine.
Those words keep playing in my head, over and over, like a fucking drug I can’t get enough of.
I don’t make offers lightly, and what I said to her was a fucking promise. She’s mine now, and I’m going to make damn sure everyone knows it.
I lean against my car, watching the entrance to Chiara’s Suite, my impatience growing with every passing second. My phone buzzes with a notification, but I ignore it, my focus solely on the door of her Suite. When it finally swings open, I see her step out, and for a moment, I forget to breathe.
Fuck, she looks incredible.
She’s wearing a black dress that hugs her body like a second skin. The fabric clings to her curves, skimming just above her knees, while the neckline plunges low enough to tease but not enough to give everything away. The way it catches the light, highlighting the smooth lines of her body, makes my pulse quicken.
Her hair’s loose, flowing over her shoulders in soft waves, and her lips are painted a deep red that’s practically begging to be kissed off. She’s every bit the woman I want by my side—strong, confident, and fucking stunning.
And her eyes … those fucking eyes are locked on me.
As she walks towards me, I push off the car, sliding my sunglasses up to get a better look. She’s confident, her stride purposeful, and there’s a fire in her eyes that wasn’t there before. It’s like she’s finally embraced who she is—what we could be together.
“Morning, Kitten,” I say, my voice low and rough, as she reaches me. I catch her around the waist, pulling her close. Her scent, a mix of something sweet and dark, fills my lungs, and I can’t resist the urge to press my lips to her neck, right where it meets her shoulder. “You look fucking gorgeous.”
She smiles, that coy, dangerous smile that drives me wild, and I feel her body melt against mine. “I thought you’d like it.”
“Like it?” I chuckle, my hand sliding down to rest on her lower back. “You’re going to cause a riot looking like this, Micetta .”
She smirks, knowing exactly what she’s doing to me. “If I do, it’s your fault,” she replies. Her eyes lock onto mine, and there’s a challenge there, one I’m more than happy to meet.
Fuck, that’s my girl. Confident, strong, not afraid to own what’s hers. I chuckle, wrapping my hand around the back of her neck. It’s a possessive gesture, one that leaves no room for doubt that she’s mine.
“Guess I’ll just have to make sure no one else even thinks about touching you,” I say. “You’re mine, after all.”
She shivers at my words, and I can’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. She might be dressed to kill, but she knows exactly who she belongs to.
“Ready to show them what they can’t have?” I ask, my voice barely above a growl. She nods, and I shake my head. “I need to hear you say it, baby.”
Her breath hitches. “I’m ready.”
“Good,” I murmur, brushing my lips against her temple. “Because from today, I want you to walk the halls of Willow Bridge like the fucking queen you are.”
When we pull up to the school, I park the car and step out, moving around to open her door. She steps out gracefully, her dress sliding up just enough to give me a glimpse of those long legs before she smooths it down. Fuck, she’s going to have every guy on campus drooling. Good thing she’s mine.
I slip my arm around her neck, pulling her close as we walk toward the entrance. I can feel her body relax against mine, like she’s finally starting to accept that this is real, that she’s mine now.
She knows this isn’t just another day. It’s a fucking declaration.
Nikolai’s at the usual spot in the courtyard, leaning against the railing with that brooding expression he always wears. His eyes narrow slightly when he sees us, but there’s no hostility, just a hint of concern.
“Nikolai,” I greet, my tone easy but with just enough edge to let him know I’m not playing around. “You here to make sure your little sister’s safe?”
He looks between us, his expression unreadable, before he finally speaks. “I don’t like it,” he says bluntly, his gaze locking onto mine. “But I’d rather see her with you than anyone else.”
It’s a fucking compliment coming from him, and I don’t take it lightly. Nikolai isn’t one to throw his trust around, especially not when it comes to family. And the fact that he’s saying it in front of her means something.
He glances at Chiara, his expression hardening. “You sure about this, Chiara?”
She smiles, a slow, dangerous curve of her lips that makes my blood heat up.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Nikolai,” she says, her voice smooth and confident. “ knows he’s mine as much as I’m his, and I don’t plan on letting him forget it.”
Her words hit me like a fucking bolt of lightning. There’s no hesitation in her voice, no doubt, just pure, unfiltered possession, and it drives me fucking wild.
Nikolai’s eyes flicker with something—pride, maybe, or resignation, it’s hard to tell. But he nods, accepting her words for what they are.
“Just be careful,” he says quietly, his eyes locking onto Chiara’s. “Both of you.”
I nod and lead her toward the others, my arm still around her, and I can feel the stares, the whispers as we approach. But I don’t give a shit. Let them talk. Let them fucking wonder.
“You’re not nervous, are you, Kitten?” I ask, my voice low as I glance down at her.
She laughs softly, shaking her head. “Not even a little. Should I be?”
“Only if you’re thinking about running,” I tease, though there’s a part of me that knows she wouldn’t fucking dream of it.
She tilts her head up to look at me, her eyes gleaming with that dangerous spark that I’ve come to fucking crave. “I won’t run unless you’re chasing me.”
I grin, tightening my grip on her. “Well, I don’t chase anyone who’s not worth catching.”
She laughs again, the sound light and carefree.
As we continue walking through the halls, I can feel her posture shifting, growing more confident, more comfortable with the idea of us being together. It’s a good look on her—she’s always had a strength that I admire, even if she tries to hide it sometimes. Now that she’s mine, I’m going to make sure that strength shines through, even if it means pushing her to her limits.
“Hey,” she says suddenly, her voice breaking through my thoughts. “Thanks for … well, for not being an asshole about this.”
I raise an eyebrow, glancing down at her. “You expected me to be?”
She shrugs, a small smile playing on her lips. “You’re Basile. It’s kind of your thing.”
I smirk, pulling her a little closer. “You bring out the best in me, Micetta,” I tease, though there’s more truth to those words than I’d care to admit.
She rolls her eyes, but there’s no denying the way she’s leaning into me, her body relaxed against mine. It’s a small victory, but it’s a start.
We reach the courtyard, where a group of students are lounging around, most of them shooting us curious—or envious—glances. I spot Leo among them, his face paling as he sees Chiara with me. I almost feel bad for the guy. Almost.
Chiara notices too, and I can feel the tension in her body as she catches his eye. But instead of pulling away, she does something that surprises me. She steps even closer, slipping her hand into mine and lacing our fingers together.
It’s a small gesture, but the message is clear. She’s with me, and she’s not hiding it.
Leo looks like he’s about to say something, but he stops himself, his eyes darting between us before he finally looks away, defeated. I can’t help the smirk that spreads across my face as I tighten my grip on Chiara’s hand .
“Looks like someone got the message,” I murmur, just loud enough for her to hear.
She glances up at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, but there’s no real heat in it. “Don’t be an ass, .”
“Too late,” I reply, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “Besides, I’m just stating the obvious.”
She huffs, but I can see the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You don’t need to be jealous, you know.”
“I’m not jealous, baby,” I say, leaning forward to kiss the side of her head. “I’m territorial. There’s a difference.”
She stops walking, turning to face me fully, and I can see the fire in her eyes, the same fire that drew me to her in the first place. “And what about who you belong to?”
I grin, leaning in so our faces are just inches apart. “You already know the answer to that.”
Her eyes search mine, and for a moment, the world narrows down to just the two of us. There’s something electric in the air, something that makes my pulse race and my skin tingle.
Then she leans in, brushing her lips against mine in a kiss that’s both soft and searing; a promise and a challenge all at once. When she pulls back, her eyes are dark with intent.
“I’m glad,” she murmurs, her voice low and dangerous. “Because I don’t fucking share either.”
My grin widens, and I draw my hand to the back of her neck, pulling her close. She’s not just keeping up with me—she’s matching me, step for step, fire for fire.
That’s my girl.