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Chapter 12 - I’m dead
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2025-09-01 13:23:23
JanedoewritingsHey, guys! 💕 I hope you’re enjoying the story so far. I know the updates for this one are a little all over the place, but I hope you’re still having fun with it! XOXO 💋
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Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 13 - Not untouchable...
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The house was asleep or at least, asleep enough for no one to notice me slipping out barefoot, silk robe whispering around my ankles, diamond anklet catching the moonlight. I moved down the marble staircase, careful not to let the heel of my foot click against the steps. Mama said good girls didn’t sneak out of their rooms at night. I wasn’t in the mood to be a good girl. The garage sat at the back of the estate, humming faintly from the motion sensors and whatever else Papa had installed in there. I paused outside the side entrance, pressing my palm against the keypad. It beeped obediently, the lock hissed open. And there he was. Antonio. Bent over the hood of one of Papa’s classic Maserati, forearms flexed, sweat clinging to the back of his neck. A tool clenched in one hand. His shirt was long gone, just a white ribbed tank stretched across his back and shoulders, stained with grease and heat. He didn’t look up when I stepped in, even though I kn
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 12 - I’m dead
Rino ─𖤝─ Age 19 | Chicago | Penthouse Resident, Gold Coast. They say time dulls things. Wounds fade, grudges rot away, memories lose their teeth. Yeah, bullshit. Whoever came up with that never sat across from a Capone. Or a Lombardi. And they sure as fuck never watched what happens when you shove both bloodlines into the same room and lock the door. I lit a cigarette with one hand, staring out the window, the skyline jagged and indifferent in the rain. The glass pane was cool beneath my knuckles, my jaw tight. The city didn’t care what I did. But she did. Alessia Capone. Three fucking years. And I couldn’t get rid of the taste. Not after what I did, not after the way I handled her that night like she was something I could punish just because I was young and angry and drunk on her mouth. I was sixteen and a fucking animal, and now I’m nineteen, still an animal but the difference is, I know it now. I just stopped pretending to be anything else. The door clicked open b
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 11 - There would be no in between.
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The door closed behind me with a soft click. I didn’t speak as I slid into the leather backseat, crossing my legs at the ankle, folding my hands in my lap. Antonio rounded the front, tugging the door shut behind him before settling into the driver’s seat. The SUV purred to life beneath us. We pulled out, flanked on all sides. Two black SUVs, identical to ours, one leading, one tailing, their windows blacker than ebony. A convoy for a Capone. But all I could feel was the space between me and Antonio. Antonio Rossi showed up at the Capone estate about six months ago as a driver, of all things. My father’s newest hire. He used to pick me up from school, open my door, keep his eyes respectfully lowered like a good soldier. He always looked annoyingly perfect doing the most mundane things, parking the car, adjusting his cuffs, standing silent in the hallway like he’d been born to be watched. Which, of course, made me watch him. And watching turned into wondering
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 10 - A player. A prince. A devil. A Lombardi.
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ Age 17 | Chicago, Illinois The black car pulled up to the curb outside the restaurant. The city lights flickered across the windshield, Antonio stepped out first. He scanned the sidewalk, one hand already at his waist, coat pushed back just enough to flash the holster clipped to his belt. Then he glanced back at me through the tinted glass and gave a single nod. My door opened and there he was again, tall, sharp-jawed, eyes darker than sin. He extended a hand to help me out. I placed mine in his, letting my fingers linger a second longer than necessary. Heat flared low in my stomach, his grip tightened just slightly. Our eyes met. Then it was gone. He released me like I was poisonous. I stepped out, straightened my dress, and raised my chin. Chicago wind bit across my cheeks, tugging at the edge of my coat. My hair, pinned into a sleek twist, didn’t move. I had learned the art of silence in the last three years. Of posture, of restraint, of weaponizing elega
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 9 - Bottom-shelf bloodlines
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I was curled against Papà’s side, face buried in the fine linen of his shirt, staining it with silent tears. His cologne should’ve comforted me, but it only made the lump in my throat grow worse. He let me cling and didn’t say a word, just kept his palm moving in slow circles on my back like I was still his little girl and not the girl some boy had thrown in the sand and kissed without permission in front of an entire crowd. And yes, I told him. I told them both. Every awful, humiliating detail. How Rino grabbed me. How he touched me. How he made me feel like nothing. I told them because some stupid part of me thought they’d care enough to stop it. To call off the engagement. To protect me. Papà just chuckled and called it “puppy arrogance.” Said it was “typical Lombardi showboating.” Across the room, Mama sat perched at her vanity. Her breathing was faintly wheezy from the climb up the stairs, but she didn't stop giving me the judgmental glances through the mir
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 8 - Obedient. Quiet. Pretty.
Rino ─𖤝─ She fucking ran. She stormed off like I’d slapped her across the face with my cock instead of my mouth. I watched her figure disappear across the sand, hair tangled from the sea air and whatever happened between us. She was crying. I could tell. Her shoulders were shaking. That quick, hiccupping kind of run girls do when they’re trying to hold in a breakdown. Cute. But also, fuck. And for a second, I started after her. Two steps, no more, like I was some lovesick prick in a bad indie film. But I stopped. Because my jaw was clenched so fucking tight I could hear my own pulse behind my teeth. Because every part of me that wanted to grab her and make it right was crushed under the weight of one thing... My fucking ego. She’d humiliated me again. With those big, bratty eyes, with that mouth she doesn’t know how to shut, with every smug little word that spilled out like she thought she was untouchable. And then the fucking tears. She looked at me like I was the vill
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