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Chapter 20 - Your honor is my honor.
Last Updated:
2025-09-20 10:41:14
JanedoewritingsHey, everyone! Well… that spiraled out of control real quick, didn’t it? Drop your thoughts below, I’m dying to know what you think. XOXO 💋
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Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 25 - Married to him. Antonio Rossi.
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ The courthouse looked too ordinary for what we were about to do. My palms were damp, fingers twisting the strap of my small purse as Antonio guided me through the metal detector. His hand brushed the small of my back. Every time the glass doors opened behind us, I flinched, expecting to see Lombardi soldiers striding in, or worse, my father’s men, his face when he realized what I was doing. My heart wouldn’t slow down. It hammered in my throat, in my ears, louder than the shuffle of papers and the soft voices of strangers waiting for traffic tickets and name changes. I shouldn’t have been here. I should have been in class. Or in my room at the estate, painting, reading, pretending nothing ever happened. But then I looked at Antonio. He stood taller than anyone else in that room, his suit dark, his jaw locked, eyes scanning every corner like he was ready to kill anyone who so much as breathed wrong in my direction. He didn’t look nervous. He looked lethal, dete
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 24 - Let me be the one
Antonio ⊶⊷⊶⊷“What kind of sick motherfucker does that to an eighteen-year-old girl?!”My voice ripped out of me, bouncing off the walls, too loud. I couldn’t stop pacing, my boots pounding against the floor. Back and forth. Back and forth. Every time I tried to stand still, my body jolted like I was about to explode.“He raped her?!” the words tasted like acid in my mouth. I spat them, choking on the fury boiling up my throat. “He fucking raped her on the night she turned eighteen?”I dug both hands into my hair until my scalp burned, then tore them down my face like I could scrape the rage out of me. My chest heaved, breath coming hard and fast, like I’d sprinted a mile.My fists clenched so tight my knuckles cracked. I slammed one against the wall, the sound rattling the frame. Plaster dust rained down but it wasn’t enough, nothing was enough.“That piece of shit—” my words broke off in a growl. I wanted blood. I wanted his throat under my hand, his eyes bulging, his screams fill
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 23 - Naked. In my fiancé’s bed.
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─“Boys,” Isabella said gently, her hand still pressed between my shoulder blades, “go outside and play for a bit, huh? Zia needs to rest.”“No,” Vincenzo said immediately, his little arms still locked around my neck, “She’s crying. I’m not leaving her.”Adriano’s jaw jutted in stubborn mirror. “Zia’s sad. I’m staying.”Raphael pressed a kiss to my knee and looked up at me with watery eyes. “Did someone hurt you, Zia? I’ll bite them.”I choked on a wet laugh through my tears.Dante, wobbling on his chubby toddler legs, came over with his stuffed tiger, pushed it into my lap with both hands, and said, “Mine. Zia sad.”My heart cracked open all over again.I wanted to stay there, buried in their little arms forever, protected and loved. Untouched by the world.But Isabella’s voice shifted, “Boys. Now.”Vincenzo spun toward her, bristling. “But Mamma—”“I said now.”That tone meant no arguments, not even from Vincenzo, who always tried to talk his way around her rules.He
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 22 - Want me to draw you a map?
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I could hear my heart beating in my ears, my breathing ragged and uneven, my skin still raw from his touch, from his words. I couldn’t stay here a second longer, I needed to move, needed to do something before the panic swallowed me whole. I forced myself up on trembling legs, holding onto the edge of the coffee table for balance. My knees buckled once, twice, and I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood just to keep myself from crying again. I couldn’t walk out like this, not barefoot. Not in this torn, dirty dress, not with every inch of me on display like proof of what he’d done. I stumbled toward his closet like I was walking through mud, my body aching, hips sore, thighs burning with the bruises of the night before. My fingers were clumsy as I opened the closet and stared into the rows of tailored suits, pressed shirts, and expensive jackets. Everything smelled like him. Cedarwood. It filled my nose, slid down my throat, clung to my skin
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 21 - Unmask the big bad wolf
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ “You are a rapist.” He physically recoiled at the word. “You’ve always been one,” I spat, voice low, shaking, “Four years ago, you pinned me in place and forced your mouth on mine. You stole my first kiss. Then you bent me over a couch and told me you could take whatever you wanted.” I stared at him, chest heaving, hands balled into fists. “That wasn’t some empty threat, was it? That was a promise. And last night...” my throat caught, but I forced it out, “...you finally cashed in.” “Stop it,” he snapped, face twisting like I’d shoved a mirror in front of him. “Why? Because you don’t want to hear it?” I smiled viciously, “Because you don’t want to admit that this... what you did last night wasn’t a one-time mistake. It was a pattern. It was always inside you. You’ve just been waiting for the day you could finally go through with it.” “Shut the fuck up, Alessia!” he roared. I didn’t stop. “You did it. You finally made good on all your promises, didn’t you?” m
Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess Chapter 20 - Your honor is my honor.
Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ I woke up to the kind of silence that didn’t feel right. My eyes fluttered open. Everything was blurry at first, golden sunlight bleeding through heavy curtains, the scent of cologne I didn’t recognize sticking to the back of my throat. I blinked hard. My head pounded. My mouth was dry, tongue heavy like I’d swallowed cotton. Where the…? This wasn’t my room. The sheets were soft, the headboard some massive carved thing that looked like it belonged in a castle, it wasn't mine, none of it was mine. And me, Jesus Christ, I was naked, completely bare. I never slept naked. Panic shot straight through me, my chest locked up. I dragged the blanket over me, clutching it to my skin like it could undo the fact that I was stripped down to nothing. I tried to sit up but froze. Pain ripped between my thighs, sharp and real, not just soreness. My body felt wrecked, hollowed out, trembling when I tried to squeeze my legs shut. My pink birthday dress was on the
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