Giovanni
GIOVANNI
I ’m sitting in the middle of a lecture on global economics, but the professor’s voice is nothing more than background noise. My mind is miles away from the classroom, back on that balcony, hearing my father’s words on repeat.
End it, now. Before I end it for you.
The bastard didn’t even hesitate to threaten Chiara. Hell, he wouldn’t hesitate to follow through if he thought it would get me in line.
He’s done worse for less.
My hands clench into fists on the desk, the pencil I’m holding snapping in two with a sharp crack. A few heads turn, but I don’t give a damn.
All I can think about is how I got to this point. I wasn’t supposed to be here, in this position, carrying the weight of our family’s legacy. That was supposed to be Armand. He was the golden boy, the heir to everything.
Until he wasn’t. Until our father decided he wasn’t good enough, strong enough, ruthless enough.
My stomach twists, remembering the way Armand used to be. Confident, charismatic, the kind of guy people just naturally gravitated towards. He was the son our father wanted, the one who was supposed to lead the family to even greater heights. And then, in the blink of an eye, it all crumbled.
The old man pushed him too hard, expected too much, and when Armand couldn’t meet those impossible standards, our father snapped. He didn’t just disown him, he killed him. He made an example out of his own flesh and blood, all to teach me a lesson.
Don’t fail.
That’s been drilled into my head since I was six years old, beaten into me, screamed into me until it became my fucking gospel. I watched my brother fall from grace, and in his place, I was molded into something I never wanted to be.
The perfect heir, the ruthless successor.
And now I’ve gone and fucked it all up over a girl. A girl I can’t let go of, even if it means tearing everything else down around me. All the abuse, all the training—it was all to make me a weapon.
Now, as I sit in this lecture hall, I realize just how deep the scars go.
My thoughts are shattered when the professor’s voice pierces through my fog. “, could you please explain the impact of monetary policy on emerging markets?” he asks, looking directly at me.
I blink, momentarily stunned. “Uh, sure,” I mumble, trying to scramble together a coherent response. “Monetary policy can significantly influence emerging markets by affecting interest rates and inflation. High interest rates might deter investment, while low rates could spur economic growth. It’s a balancing act.”
The professor nods, but I can tell from the look on his face that I’m far from convincing. I’m not just distracted; I’m failing to engage with the material. The rest of the lecture drags on, each word a blur as I try to shake off the memories.
But they cling to me, making it impossible to focus on anything else. When the professor finally dismisses us, I’m the first one out of the room. I need air, space, something to clear my head before I lose it.
Out in the quad, I spot Chiara near the art studios, her long hair catching the sunlight as she talks to one of her classmates. She’s so different from everything I’ve ever known—fierce, passionate, unpredictable. She’s a wildfire, and I can’t help but be drawn to her, even though I know she’ll burn me alive if I’m not careful.
As I approach, she glances up, her eyes locking onto mine. There’s a flicker of concern there, and I know she sees through the mask I’m trying to keep in place. She always does.
“Hey,” she says softly, stepping away from her friend. “You okay?”
I force a grin, trying to play it off. “Of course. Just been a shit morning, that’s all.”
She doesn’t look convinced. “You’ve been off since last night. Don’t lie to me, Gio.”
Fuck. She’s not going to let this go. And the truth is, I don’t want to lie to her, but I also can’t drag her into the shitstorm that’s brewing, not when she’s already in danger just by being with me.
I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s my father. He’s … he’s not happy about us.”
Her brows knit together in confusion. “Why? What does it matter to him who you’re with?”
Because he’s a control freak who thinks he owns me, I want to say. But I bite back the words, knowing they’ll only worry her more.
“It’s complicated,” I say instead. “He’s got this idea of what my life is supposed to look like, and you don’t fit into that picture.”
Chiara’s jaw sets in that stubborn way I’ve come to love and hate. “Well, fuck him, then. I’m not going anywhere.”
Her words send a warmth through me that I don’t deserve, not after the things I’ve done. But hearing her stand up for us, for me, makes something in my chest loosen, if only a little.
“I know,” I say, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “But it’s not that simple. He’s dangerous, Chiara. He’s not going to let this go easily.”
She pulls back slightly, looking up at me with defiance and fear. “What do you mean by dangerous?”
I swallow hard, choosing my words carefully. “He’s a Capo dei Capi, and the kind of man who doesn’t ask twice. He doesn’t give warnings, and he doesn’t tolerate disobedience. If he thinks I’m defying him, he’ll come after us.”
Her eyes widen, the gravity of the situation sinking in. But instead of pulling away, she tightens her grip on my arm. “We’ll deal with him together. I’m not going anywhere, Gio.”
Together. It’s the first time in a long time that someone has offered to stand by me, to face the fire head-on. And as much as I want to protect her, to keep her out of this mess, I know I can’t do it alone.
“Yeah,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
But even as I say the words, the weight of my father’s warning hangs heavy over us. I know he won’t back down, and I know what he’s capable of. And if it comes to a fight, I’m not sure we’ll come out the other side unscathed.
I glance at Chiara and see the faintest hint of sadness in her eyes, but she masks it with a smile. “I have to get back to class,” she says, her voice cheerful but her gaze lingering on me. “See you later? ”
“Yeah,” I say, my voice trailing off. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
I watch her go, the useless organ in my chest aching. The way she’s been treating me, the way she’s so effortlessly caring—it’s almost too much to handle. I’m used to a world of cold calculations and ruthless decisions, not this warmth and genuine concern.
The rest of the day passes slowly. I sit through my classes, but I’m not really there. I’m back in my head, replaying my father’s threats, trying to figure out my next move. But every time I think of something, it feels like I’m two steps behind, like he’s already got me cornered.
By the time lunch rolls around, I’m ready to snap. Chiara’s been hovering, trying to get me to talk, but I’m too deep in my own shit to let her in. I know she’s worried, and I hate that I’m the reason for it. But I can’t shake the feeling that things are about to get worse, that I’m dragging her into something she’s not ready for.
As we sit in the quad, picking at the food neither of us really wants to eat, she finally speaks up. “Gio, I know you’re stressed, but you need to talk to me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I look at her, seeing the concern etched on her face, and it nearly undoes me. I should be the one protecting her, and instead, I’m the reason she’s sitting here, worried and scared.
“I’m just trying to figure out how to keep you safe,” I admit, my voice rougher than I intended. “My father … he doesn’t give up, Chiara. He’s going to keep coming at us until one of us breaks.”
She reaches out, placing a hand on mine. “The fact that he needs to use intimidation tactics on his own son already shows you’re stronger than him.”
I want to believe her, I really do. But the shadow of my father’s control looms too large in my mind. He’s been pulling my strings for as long as I can remember, shaping me into the person I am today—cold, calculated, ruthless. And now, I’m trying to break free of that, to be something different for her. But the question that haunts me is whether I’m even capable of it.
“I don’t want you to get hurt because of me,” I say quietly, my eyes locked on hers. “You don’t deserve to be dragged into my shit.”
She leans closer, her eyes blazing with determination. “I don’t care about that, Gio. I care about you, and if this is what it takes, then I’m all in. I knew what I was getting into when I chose you.”
Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, all I can do is stare at her, wondering how the hell I ended up with someone like her by my side. She’s fierce, loyal, and way too good for a guy like me.
“Fuck, Chiara,” I mutter, shaking my head. “You don’t make this easy, do you?”
She smirks, a hint of that fire I love so much coming back to life. “Since when have I ever made anything easy for you?”
I chuckle, despite the heaviness in my chest. “Fair point.”
I need to figure out a way to balance it all—to keep Chiara safe while dealing with the fallout from my father’s threats. More importantly, I need to find a way to take control of my own life, before everything I’ve fought for slips through my fingers.