The Fleeing Princess

I’m Isabella Russo, the mafia princess everyone loves to hate. Adrian Moretti—ice-cold underboss in a tailored suit—was sent to “discipline” me. I torched his villa, wrecked his meetings, even tried to make him lose control. At night, he did. Against glass, leather, marble—he taught me surrender and I hated how much I craved it.

Then I learned the truth: Adrian was only a mask. His real name is Leon Moretti—heir to the empire and the fiancé promised to me since birth. It should have been a fairytale.

Except my parents crowned a miracle sister who wasn’t a miracle at all. Elena slipped into my room, my heirloom, my future—and into his arms. When I was framed, caged in a walk-in freezer, whipped for a lie, he chose her. So I sold the engagement for $200M, left a single recording as proof, and vanished.

By the time Leon becomes Don, he finally listens—to the tape that proves Elena’s an impostor… and to the echo of my footsteps leaving him for good. Now the most dangerous man in New York is done being careful.

He’s hunting the woman he broke.

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 presentation with a porn reel.

He didn’t flinch. He recited the entire plan by memory and closed a multimillion-dollar deal, leaving the room in stunned silence.

The third day, At a high-profile business gala, I slipped a powerful aphrodisiac into his drink, hoping he’d lose control and make a scene.

But I was the one carried into a penthouse suite, ruined until my knees gave out under his brutal, relentless control.

Everyone in New York whispered that Adrian was disciplined, untouchable—a gentleman in tailored suits.

But only I knew the truth—at night, when his control snapped, he was fire and steel, merciless in the ways he made me surrender.

The backseat of his Rolls.

The mahogany table in the conference room.

Against the glass window of his skyscraper office, the city burning below.

I should have hated him.

Instead, I craved