The Ruthless Don's Obsession: You Can't Run

er man's diamond on my finger, naive enou

city's underworld

trinket" and introduced me to his own

en, Ellie," he sneered. "And you

eper. I found my mother's silver locket-the one he swor

rejected me; he

y a man I didn't love, just to esc

foreign apartment, burning with fever, while my fiancé

was going

up in a steri

ncé wa

vengeful god who had just burned do

ess, his eyes dark with a terri

nk you could run fr

t," I whispered, trem

You belong to me, Ellie. And

pte

ie

nother man's promise on my finger, naive enough to

r y

aly, breathing air that didn't reek

y hand trembled, not from the biting cold, but from the wei

hield. A d

fied orphan Marcus Thorn had taken in.

the doo

a heavy silence that smelled of lemo

e dropped the linen napkins she w

" she w

house that felt like home. She smelled of lavender and

my hand. The diamond caught the di

But instead of joy

know?"

e

The Don. The man who controlled the city's underwor

ounding stronger than I felt.

e child he saved, but as the woma

bered, stretching out like a dark throat. The portraits of dead

d for th

s El

t, a man whose face was as bl

a meeting. He can

ike ash. In every way that mattered, he was my fathe

ant said, his tone clipped. "He sai

hit me squar

nd I was still jus

om to wait, needing to escape

mantle. They didn't see m

e's actually doing

eddi

ught her that villa in the south of France just

od ran

lo

knife twisting

ied. He handed me to Marcus.

ver locket. He swore he would keep it safe

world. M

dy door

walke

m. He stood at six-three, a monument of lethal elegance

oked

re dark. Vo

," I br

anted to shove the ring in his face. I

ng married

dn't

ring. Then he l

," he

rd was

etting attention, Ellie? B

d out. "His name is

, humorless laugh. It

ildren, Ellie. And you are f

out of the st

lo

ry way. She placed a manicured hand o

d?" Chloe asked, her voice

he coldness in his eyes

et Chloe.

stopped

Marcus continued, his voice flat.

ed back

th your little games,

there.

r years suddenly made sense. Ther

didn'

d his ba

pped. It wasn't a loud break. It was th

asn't his priority. I was

walked towa

dn't

exactly the same. Preserved. Like

sun was setting over the d

," I whispere

to Italy. I was severing

that walking away wouldn't be enough. You can't walk aw