All Chapters of The Fleeing Princess: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

The first time I crossed paths with Adrian Moretti, I thought I could break him.Turns out, I was the one who shattered.He wasn’t just the cold, calculating underboss of the Russo crime family—he was the man my father assigned to “discipline” me, to smooth out my reckless edges.“He’s supposed to tame me?” I scoffed, eyeing the man in the tailored black suit, his expression carved from stone. “He looks like a goddamn accountant.”In our world, the Moretti family ruled the city’s underground. Adrian wasn’t just another soldier. He was the family’s most trusted enforcer—cold, precise, untouchable.And I, Isabella Russo, the spoiled mafia princess, was not about to take orders from him.So I fought him.On his first day, I set fire to his lavish villa, watching flames devour the marble walls and glass ceilings until the estate collapsed into ashes.He only looked at me once, his voice flat and merciless:“Send the bill to Miss Russo’s paycheck.”The next day, I switched his board presen

“Papa, don’t be angry,” Elena’s voice floated across the dining hall, soft as honey. “Isabella didn’t mean it. She just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, that’s all.”Her smile was angelic, her tone dripping with sympathy. But I’d known her long enough to hear the venom beneath it.When she first returned to the family—our long-lost, tragic dove—I pitied her. I was stupid enough to hand her my favorite teddy bear, thinking it might comfort her. I didn’t know then that this fragile little bird would one day sink her claws into everything I loved.It began with small things.She sent anonymous threatening messages to my teachers, making it seem like I had cheated.She hid my carefully prepared audition tape and claimed I’d simply misplaced it.She spread rumors online that I had stolen a friend’s scholarship, turning everyone against me.Once, she even faked a sprained ankle and insisted I had pushed her during gym class.And every time—every single time—my parents believed her.My pr

The crash of the water on Elena’s laptop silenced the entire hall.She let out a sharp scream and stumbled straight into Adrian’s arms. “Adrian, I—I’m scared…”He pulled her close instantly, his hand stroking her shoulder, eyes snapping to me like shards of ice.“Isabella Russo,” he said, voice hard as steel, “I told you to sit down and let her continue. If you keep this up, don’t blame me for what happens next.”My chest constricted. He never called me by my full name—unless he meant to wound.But instead of cowering, I laughed, the sound bitter.“You said this thesis was yours, didn’t you, Elena? Then prove it. If you really wrote it, you should be able to present every detail without your precious laptop.”Color drained from her face, but she clutched Adrian’s sleeve with trembling fingers. “There’s too much data, I… I can’t remember it all…”“Then let me help refresh your memory.”I turned toward the committee, my voice clear and steady.“First section: a summary of the migration p

The first thing I registered when I opened my eyes was silence.I was alive—but barely. My body ached, seared with pain, as if every rib had been splintered. The room was empty, sterile, lonely.From the hall outside, I heard whispers.“That man… God, he’s gorgeous. The way he hovered over his girlfriend, so tender, so protective…”“I know. And for just a sprained ankle, too. Her parents won’t leave her side. Meanwhile, this poor girl in here—broken, bleeding—and not a soul visits her.”The words sliced me open more cruelly than the chandelier had.I yanked the IV from my arm and dragged myself down the corridor, clinging to the wall.At the VIP ward, I stopped cold.Behind the glass doors, Adrian sat by Elena’s bed, adjusting her pillows, murmuring soft questions. My father poured her water, blowing gently before holding the glass to her lips. My mother dabbed at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief, cooing like she was the crown jewel of the family.Elena pouted, smiled, let

The plane cut through the night sky, disappearing into the clouds.I pressed my forehead against the window, watching the endless blue fade into white. My teeth sank into my lip so hard I tasted blood—anything to keep myself from collapsing.The wounds across my back burned like fire, warm blood seeping through my shirt. Every heartbeat was a knife. Just hold on. Just a little longer. Once I landed, once my feet touched foreign soil… I would finally be free.When the plane landed, freedom tasted like dust and iron. Every step outside the airport felt like dragging chains behind me. My legs trembled, but I forced them forward.Then came the scream of tires.A black sports car swerved, stopping inches from where I stood. I didn’t even have time to raise my head before the world tilted and went dark.Thousands of miles away, Adrian Moretti sat in the back of a limousine, the glow of the city lights bleeding across the glass. Out of nowhere, his chest tightened, his pulse stumbling. For t