All Chapters of Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ “Little Allie is glowing…” Isabella teased, her voice lilting as she leaned across the café table, her chin propped in her hand. I laughed, stirring my iced coffee with the straw. “Glowing? Please, Izzy, it’s just the lighting.” “No, it’s not,” she said, squinting at me like she was trying to solve a mystery. “You’ve got that look. The soft cheeks, the dreamy smile… you’re practically radiant.” I snorted, “I barely slept last night.” She didn’t listen. Her gaze dipped lower, and then, before I could stop her, she reached across the table and poked me right in the chest. “Ow!” I hissed, flinching back and glaring at her. “What the hell, Izzy?” “Are they tender?” she asked, dead serious, like we were discussing medical results and not my boobs in the middle of a crowded café. I groaned, covering my face with my hand. “What kind of question is that?” She grinned, “Just answer it.” I peeked at her through my fingers, half-laughing. “Fine. Yes. A little. Especial

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ “It’s the Cosa Nostra Foundation Dinner,” Salvatore said, pacing in front of Papà’s desk. His suit jacket hung open, tie loosened like he’d just fought his way through a dozen problems before walking in here, “Everyone’s going to be there, Papà. It’s the perfect time to officially present Alessia and Antonio, show them the Capones don’t hide in shadows. That we’re not weak. That Alessia and Antonio are a family to be respected, not whispered about.” Papà leaned back in his chair, the dim light from the office lamp cutting across his sharp features. He rubbed the back of his neck, his jaw ticking with frustration, “I don’t trust the Costellos,” he muttered. “Luciano’s a snake, he is worse than his father ever was. That boy would sell his own blood if it got him an inch closer to power.” I glanced between them, my brother and my father. Two sides of the same coin. “Papà,” I said softly, stepping closer, “it’s okay. Really. I don’t need to go.” He looked up, his da

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ My eyes were clamped shut, hard enough to see stars behind the lids, forcing the remaining tears back. I didn’t move my head from the pillow. I didn’t dare twitch a finger. He was back. The sound of the water echoed in my head as he showered, and it infuriated me more than his shouting had. I adjusted my breathing, making it slow, even, and deep. My body was still thrumming with anger, but I forced it to relax, lying on my right side, facing away from his side of the bed. My hand rested on the high swell of my belly. The shower cut off. My ears strained, hearing the soft click of the bathroom door, the rustle of the towel, and a moment later, the bedroom door opened. He didn’t turn on the light. He never did when he thought I was sleeping. The scent of him, warm soap, sandalwood, and clean skin drifted over me. He paused by my side of the bed. I felt the heat radiate off his bare skin inches from my back. The mattress dipped as he climbed in. He settled in

Alessia ─ ∘❉∘ ─ “No…” The word slipped out before I even realized it. My head started shaking on its own, slow at first, then harder, faster until everything inside me felt like it was going to explode, “No, no, no, no…” The paper crumpled in my hand as I backed away from the crib. My heart was pounding so hard it hurt. My throat burned. This couldn’t be real. I just put her to bed. She was right here. She was wearing her pink onesie with the tiny white bows, hugging that stupid rabbit she wouldn’t sleep without. I spun around, the room spinning with me. “Antonio?” I called, my voice was too loud in the silence, “Antonio!” No answer. I tore out of the nursery, my bare feet slapping against the cold floors. “Allegra!” I screamed, the sound breaking halfway out of my chest. “Baby, where are you?” I pushed open every door as I ran down the hall, the study, the guest room, the bathroom. I even checked the linen closet like she might somehow be hiding inside. There was nothin

Antonio ⊶⊷⊶⊷ My daughter’s small arm was locked around my neck like she was holding on for her life. Her breath was warm against my collar, her eyes were tear filled from missing her mother, but she didn't cry, her gaze just darted around the room full of men she didn’t know. I could feel her little heart pounding through the thin fabric of my shirt. I pulled my jacket open, wordlessly, and she slipped inside. Her tiny fingers clutched the lapel, her head pressing against my chest. I wrapped an arm around her and stared straight ahead. Don Luciano sat across from me, legs spread wide, smoke curling up from the cigar between his long fingers. His gold rings flashed in the light every time he gestured at the TV mounted on the wall. On the screen, he was watching the live of the Capone territories being set on fire. He laughed, his teeth showing through the haze. “About damn time. Fucking bastards got what was coming. You don’t shoot my father and live long enough to brag abou