Promised To The Don: The Runaway Mafia Princess novel Chapter 14

Alessia

─ ∘❉∘ ─

Age 18 | Capone Estate, Chicago, Illinois.

I slipped through the side terrace doors, silk brushing over my thighs. Pale blue, barely-there, french, expensive and satin silk. I’d stolen it straight from my mother’s closet, and, if she ever found out, I’d be dead. It was way too adult, way too inappropriate, especially for a walk around the gardens at night but I hadn’t come out here to smell the roses.

I spotted him before he had the chance to look up. My heart stopped, then tripped over itself trying to catch up. He was pacing the back fence line, hand on the grip of his weapon, shoulders taut beneath his black uniform shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, veins thick down his forearms. Always the soldier, even when no one was watching.

I moved toward him like a breeze, hips swaying on instinct, heart hammering like I was still sixteen and stupid, hiding glances at the help.

He must’ve felt me before he saw me, because his head snapped to the side. His eyes locked on me, and for one terrifying, intoxicating second, he just... stared.

“Dio santo,” he muttered under his breath, and honestly, that alone made sneaking out here worth it.

“You’re not going to say it?” I asked, pausing a few feet away, one finger tracing the stone edge of the balustrade, eyes bright under my lashes.

He blinked, gaze dragging down my body like a slow hand, “Say what?”

I tilted my head, lips curving. “Antonio.”

For a heartbeat, nothing. Then he exhaled hard, his jaw flexed, and when he finally spoke, the words were reluctant, “Happy birthday, principessa.”

I smiled, not a soft, innocent smile. A woman’s smile. I’d practiced it in mirrors for weeks. “Mm. That’s better. I was starting to think you didn’t care.”

He didn’t respond, jaw tight, and his eyes slid past me, sweeping the dark hedges, the tree line, the shadows. As if I wasn’t a girl in silk standing there begging for attention, but just another liability he had to monitor.

And I don't know why, his indifference made me want him even more.

I shifted closer, silk whispering against my skin as I moved, the neckline dipping low enough that one wrong breath and both of my little breasts would’ve spilled free, “You know,” I said lightly, “most men would’ve brought me flowers or at least a gift.”

“Most men aren’t paid to keep you alive, principessa. You’ll have to forgive me for not being romantic.”

I tilted my head, biting back a grin. “So it’s not that you don’t care, it’s just bad manners?”

His gaze flicked to mine then, “Don’t twist my words.”

I let the hem of the negligee fall off my thigh just a little, his nostrils flared and he looked away.

I moved beside him, trailing a finger along the edge of his forearm, watching goosebumps rise on his skin the way they always did. Proof. Evidence that no matter how cold he pretended to be, I could reach him.

“Tell me,” I murmured, eyes fixed on his profile, “is my father still asking about that soldier you killed?”

He looked everywhere but at me, scanning the trees, the shadows, the empty stretch of lawn. “Every day.”

I tilted my head, studying him. “Does he doubt you?”

That finally dragged his eyes to mine. The shift in his face was instant, a darkness that made my pulse stutter.

“Not even a little,” he said, my father might have questions, but his faith in Antonio was absolute.

I got on my tiptoes until my lips brushed the shell of his ear, “You going to shoot anyone else for me, Antonio? Would you kill Rino Lombardi for me?”

His hand shot out, catching my wrist, not hard, but firm enough to remind me he was a man, not a boy, “You’re going to get me killed.”

My eyes locking on his, a reckless little smile curling at my mouth. “You’d die for me.”

“That’s not the point,” he said, but the rasp in his voice gave him away.

His fingers tightened just slightly on my wrist, and he looked like he might snap, like he might forget the uniform, the oath, my father, all of it.

“Don’t play with me,” he warned.

“You don’t want me?” I asked softly.

His silence said it louder than words.

When his eyes found me again, they didn’t skip past like I was just another duty, another Capone to guard. No. This time he saw me, not the little girl running through the villa halls, not the Capone daughter dressed up in pearls and pastels. He saw the silk clinging to my body, and the skin it barely managed to cover.

For the first time, he looked at me like a woman.

His gaze dragged down my face to my mouth, lingering there, before sliding lower. My neck. My collarbone. His throat worked hard when his eyes landed on the curve of my breasts spilling against the plunging neckline, like he was swallowing down something he shouldn’t want.

And still, he kept going. Down over the hem of the negligee, the line of my thighs, the length of my bare legs, until his stare hit the tips of my toes curling against the cold stone. By the time his eyes crawled back up, I could feel the heat of his stare stripping me naked where I stood.

“I’m not a child anymore,” I whispered.

“No,” he said hoarsely, eyes burning into me. “You’re a problem.”

I tilted my head, inching even closer. “Then fix me.”

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, but forced himself back a step, putting distance between us like it was the only thing keeping him sane. “Go inside, Alessia.”

I didn’t.

My fingers trailed up his arm again, slow, lingering, until they found the edge of his collar. I hooked them at the edge of his collar and tugged him towards me hard, “You remember what you told me?”

He still wouldn’t look at me. His eyes stayed fixed on the dark horizon, like if he avoided mine long enough he could pretend I wasn’t here, wasn’t touching him, wasn’t pulling at the seams of his discipline.

So I rose onto my tiptoes, closing the distance he kept trying to build. He was tall, six-three maybe, but I wasn’t small, I was five-nine and barefoot, still close enough to reach his ear without straining. Close enough that my breath stirred the short hairs at the nape of his neck. Close enough that if he slipped for even a second, there’d be nothing between us at all.

“You said,” I whispered, lips grazing the shell of his ear now, “when I turn eighteen... you’d kiss me.”

His jaw clenched so hard I thought it might crack.

“So,” I purred, stepping in front of him, silk clinging to my body, “today’s the day. Isn’t it?”

“Alessia,” he said slowly, “go inside.”

I arched a brow, daring him. “That’s not a kiss.”

His eyes finally snapped to mine, “That promise,” he growled, voice rough with the effort of holding back, “was made when you were throwing a tantrum because Rino had his tongue down some girl’s throat and you didn’t know what the fuck you wanted.”

I smiled sweetly, the kind of smile that always got me what I wanted. “I know what I want now.”

He stepped back, just half a foot, but I followed like gravity pulled me. My hand grazed his chest. His eyes dropped, unguarded for a second, to the dip of fabric between my breasts.

“Stop it,” he rasped, voice hoarse. “You’re not a little girl anymore.”

I gave him that perfect Capone pout, lip jutting just enough to look both spoiled, “Don’t tell me you forgot how to kiss.”

“Alessia—” his warning echoed around me.

“Or maybe,” I purred, leaning in, “you’re scared you won’t stop.”

He spun away from me like I’d hit him, running a hand over his mouth, “Jesus Christ.”

“Is that a no?” I asked, tilting my head, silk slipping off one bare shoulder, “Because I wore this for you.”

He turned back, eyes flat, “You want the truth, signorina?”

“Yes.”

“An honorable woman doesn’t spread her legs for a man who isn’t her husband.”

His words felt like I had been slapped so hard I couldn't get back up. I froze, breath caught in my chest.

And then he added, “Your father already sold you to Rino Lombardi. Save yourself for him.”

I flinched at his harsh tone. He knew what it cost me to hear his name. He knew I’d come out here not for a kiss, but because I couldn’t bear the thought of belonging to Rino.

My jaw lifted, “So that’s it? You’re a good little soldier now?”

His laugh was humorless, “That’s all I’ve ever been. A dog with orders, Alessia. Don’t romanticize it.”

Tears stung my throat before they reached my eyes. “I don’t want him, I don't want Rino,” I whispered, voice breaking. “I want you.”

That dragged him closer, towering, heat radiating off his body until it felt like I was pinned without him even touching me.

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” he bit out. “Nothing’s ever going to happen between us. I’m not your white knight. I’m not here to save you from this life, I’m one of the bastards who keeps it alive. So stop looking at me like I’m anything else.”

I blinked, but he wasn’t finished.

“You think I’ll save you from Rino Lombardi?” His laugh was dark and humorless, “I wouldn’t save you. I’d ruin you. I'd break you and leave nothing worth saving. You have no fucking idea the things I’ve done... the things I still intend to do,” his eyes locked on mine, “So do yourself a favor, principessa. Guard yourself, because the one you should fear most is me.”

“Antonio—” I reached for him, desperate, but he shoved my hands away.

“No. My loyalty is to my Capo. Go to Rino, Alessia. Be his perfect little princess. He’ll keep you wrapped in diamonds, parade you on his arm, kiss your hand in public. He’ll treat you like a fucking trophy. That’s what you were bred for anyway.”

The air punched out of me. My chest burned like he’d cracked a rib, like every word had landed where his hands wouldn’t. I stumbled back a step, breath shallow, eyes stinging, but I couldn’t look away from him because he meant it. He meant every word he said.

He was just like them, just like Rino, Papà, and Salvatore. He was no different. For a heartbeat I’d let myself believe he was something else, that he might see me, choose me, fight for me.

But he was exactly like them.

I stepped back, pain clawing up my ribs, but I smiled anyway, “Then I hope you fucking choke on your loyalty, Antonio. I hope when Rino bends me over on our wedding night, when he rapes me until there’s nothing left but a corpse with a pulse, you sleep real easy knowing you helped deliver me to him. I hope you remember that you stood here and helped chain me to him. You, not just my papa, not just Salvatore but you too. Just another man who handed me over to a monster and called it duty.”

I turned before he could see my face break. Before the tears could gather in my throat, before my spine could fold in on itself from the weight of what I’d just said. I’d meant every word and I hated that I had. Hated that he’d dragged me to the place where I could spit venom at the only man I ever wanted to believe in. Hated even more that he’d let me mean it.

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