18. Gianluca

Striding into the kitchen,I catch Luke staring at his phone, absently stirring what passes for coffee in his world.

“Where’s Cian?”

He nearly jumps out of his skin as he looks up, pocketing his phone quickly as he glares at me, looking like he’s been caught watching porn by his mother. “No idea. Not here. Why?”

“Robert is here to see him.”

“Oh, that’ll be fun. Where did you put him?”

“In the dining room.”

Luke snickers, but it’s half-hearted.

“Are you watching porn?” I ask as I grab my brand of coffee that will sear the enamel off your teeth but fuck, it’s good.

“Fuck off,” he growls.

“Hey, I get it,” I say, holding one hand up. “You are like me. We get our kicks where we can.”

“Not exactly like you,” he grumbles.

“Prince. Earl. It’s all the same when it comes to gold diggers, no?” I shrug to show nonchalance, but I’m anything but casual about this subject.

“Maybe. I guess that when you find the one, you know, and you have to do whatever it takes.” He picks up his coffee and stalks out under a thundercloud after those ominous words.

I sigh. I’d hoped what I saw in his gaze last night was wrong, but I’m not wrong. I’m never wrong. He is falling for Victoria Stroud. Hard.

I watch Luke walk away, his tense posture saying more than words ever could. This is a problem. The last thing we need is a love triangle that could jeopardise our operation and Cian’s leadership.

The idea of Luke’s allegiance being swayed by Victoria worries me. I take a sip of my coffee, the bitter taste matching the uneasy thoughts in my mind. We’ve been a tight-knit team for so long, and now this?

Cian needs to know if he doesn’t already. He is a notoriously volatile man who’d burn the world for her if he had to, that includes Luke and me, if we get caught up in that path. It’s not a place I want to be voluntarily, but I get Luke’s infatuation. That woman is something else entirely. She is next level. Seeing her last night practically naked as she writhed on the dance floor, luring brainless assholes to her with her curves, I was nearly one of them.

Rubbing my hand over my face, I pull my phone out and text Cian.

Where are you?

When there is no reply, I make my way back to the dining room and stare at Robert. He is a younger version of their father, although every Gannon male I have come across looks pretty similar. It’s crazy how strong those genetics are. “Cian isn’t here, and we can’t trace him.”

“Probably with Victoria,” he mutters.

“Are you going to wait? Luke and I need to leave.”

“If you don’t mind. This is important.”

“Of course,” I say with a nod. “Make yourself at home.”

I take my coffee and head upstairs. My phone rings in my hand, and I swipe my thumb across it, answering quickly. “Rue?”

“Prince Gianluca of Esteria,” she drawls. “What the fuck do you want?”

I snort into my coffee, sending it shooting up my nose. I stifle my cough as I shake my head at her sass. “We need to talk about this idiocy,” I croak.

“Yeah, well, take it up with the old man. It’s got nothing to do with me.”

“Our countries cannot continue to be at odds like this,” I murmur, oozing charm for all it’s worth. “It’s counterproductive and frankly, quite tedious.”

There’s a pause on the other end. She sighs, loud and theatrical.

“Fine,” she finally says, exasperation bleeding into her tone. “I’ll talk to him, but I’m not making any fucking promises, Gianluca.”

“That’s all I ask,” I reply, knowing that getting Princess Rue Di’Castello to bend even a fraction is an accomplishment in itself. “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

“Whatever,” she mutters and hangs up.

While I’m on a roll, I dial Cian’s number, and he picks up after two rings. “What, for fuck’s sake?”

“Robert is here, asshole. Wherever you are, this is more important. Deal with it.” My turn to hang up. I can’t be dealing with his bullshit with this brother when I’ve got my own crap piling up at my door. I’m avoiding thinking about it and focusing on Luke’s infatuation, but I know I’m in just as deep. Finishing my coffee, I grab my bag, deciding I should probably head to campus and maybe take in a class or two. It wouldn’t hurt even though I have a completely free ride here. My parents, King and Queen of Esteria, are the top funders of this university and with that comes the privilege of passing first-class honours whether I deserve it or not. Some days I want to earn it, other days, I’d rather spend watching Victoria. I head out into the cold morning and shiver in my black cashmere coat.

My boots crunch on the frost that has settled over the pathways of the university grounds. I shove my hands into my pockets.

Reaching the History building, I push open the heavy doors and step into the relative warmth of its corridors. Crossing paths with students bundled in scarves and heads buried in textbooks, I wonder how many of them would survive a single day in my shoes. Heir Apparent to a small but eye-wateringly wealthy European sovereignty which is also neck deep in the criminal underworld. From drugs to blood diamonds, there is a finger in every pie. But it’s a delicate balance. One where I’m the dutiful Prince, politically minded and will one day be King, and the other where I’m nothing more than a thug who craves the feel of blood on my hands. Some days, I’d choose thug over Prince every time.

I sink into a seat at the back of one of the lecture rooms. The professor is new. I frown at him. He is smooth, elegant, and refined, but underneath all that, I can see the psycho that lurks. He is like me. Living two worlds, but never knowing which one to choose.

He begins speaking, his posh English accent riveting the entire lecture hall. Even me. There is something so charismatic about him, I find it beyond suspicious.

As he enthusiastically regales us with the political dynamics of pre-war Europe, I let my mind wander. His words blend into a hypnotic rhythm that I find strangely soothing, yet I remain alert.

You don’t rise to my level by dropping your defences, not even in a fucking lecture hall.

An hour ticks by before the professor wraps up his class, and as everyone shuffles out, I hang back. There’s something about this man that has grabbed my interest, and I’m not leaving until I satisfy my curiosity. Besides, it’s a welcome distraction from the chaos waiting for me on the outside.

He notices me lingering and gives me a nod as he packs away his books. “Prince Gianluca,” he acknowledges with a small smile.

“Professor,” I reply with a nod, unsurprised that he knows exactly who I am. “It’s just Gianluca here. Your lecture was enlightening.”

“A pleasure to have royalty gracing my classroom.” His tone is smooth, but something tells me he couldn’t give two shits about my title, which means one thing. He has one of his own.

I cut to the chase. “You’re new here,” I state more than ask.

“I am.” He glances around the emptying room and sighs. “It is a revered position.”

“What happened to Dr Matthews?”

He shrugs, an elegant shift of his shoulders, his eyes like blue ice chips. “He was made an offer he couldn’t refuse; I believe.”

Interesting. “Where were you before BlackBriar?”

He chuckles lightly, though there’s no humour in it. “I’m just a wandering academic with a penchant for history’s darker chapters,” he says cryptically.

Wandering academic, my ass.

Before I can say anything else, he tilts his head. “Your country’s history fascinates me. Would you care to join me for coffee one day and give me an inside view?”

Narrowing my eyes, I know he’s after something but it’s not my take on Esteria’s history. Trouble is, I have no fucking clue what he wants. He is probably the only creature on earth I cannot read. “Sure,” I say, needing to know more about him. He has me intrigued. “Tomorrow after class?”

“It’s a date,” he says and dismisses me by sitting down at his desk and shuffling through stacks of papers.

I leave the room, the questions swirling like a storm in my head. Who the hell is this guy? And what’s his endgame? Exiting the building, the air outside bites into my skin, and I relish it – it keeps me sharp, focused.

I don’t have time to linger on cryptic professors and their thinly veiled invitations. Not when there are bigger issues to deal with. But he’s worth keeping an eye on, all the same.