Runaway Mistress: The Mafia Boss Begs On His Knees
The heavy steel door of the industrial meat locker slammed shut, sealing me in at four degrees below zero.
Ten minutes ago, I was the woman Dante Moretti promised to burn the world for.
Now, I was the rat accused of poisoning his heir.
Dante didn’t just lock me in. He looked at me with eyes devoid of warmth and said, "Evidence says otherwise."
He chose the lie of his arranged wife, Sofia, over my truth.
For months, I endured the price of loving the Underboss.
I watched him marry Sofia in a grand ceremony to secure a family alliance.
I let him force me onto a table to drain my blood to save her life when she was injured.
I took twenty lashes from his family’s enforcers, all while he stood by and watched, claiming it was necessary to "protect" me.
He told me to wait. He told me the marriage was a sham.
But when I finally escaped and he came chasing after me, revealing that Sofia was a fraud and he wanted me back, I didn't feel relief.
I felt nothing.
Even after he threw his body over mine to save me from a collapsing building, taking a jagged shard of timber through his chest, I couldn't forgive him.
In the hospital, his mother handed me his journal.
It was filled with entries about his undying love for me, written on the very same days he allowed me to be tortured.
"Tell him the debt is paid," I told his mother as I handed the book back.
"He saved my life. I saved his child. We are even."
I turned my back on the ICU and walked out into the rain.
Dante Moretti might have been willing to die for me, but he never knew how to live for me.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 7
Elena POV
I woke to the sterile beep of monitors and the sharp scent of antiseptic.
But beneath the hospital smells, the air felt wrong.
It was suffocating, heavy with the weight of an unspoken accusation.
Dante was sitting in the chair next to me, his elbows on his knees, his head buried in his hands.
He looked up the moment I stirred.
There was no relief in his dark eyes.
Only a cold, burning fury.
"You rigged it," he said, his voice a low rumble.
I blinked, my brain sluggish and swimming from the blood loss.
"What?"
"The backdrop," he spat. "You loosened the bolts. You wanted to kill her."
I stared at the ceiling, watching the cracks in the plaster.
I didn't have the energy to defend myself.
I didn't have the energy to tell him I had been locked in a room for a week, prisoner in my own home.
I didn't have the energy to remind him that he was the one who saved me.
"Think what you want, Dante," I rasped, my throat dry as sandpaper.
My indifference snapped something inside him.
He stood up violently and kicked the chair. It flew across the room and crashed into the wall with a deafening clatter.
"Why do you defy me?" he shouted, his chest heaving.
"Why can't you just submit? Why do you make everything a battle?"
I closed my eyes, shutting out his rage.
"I release you," I whispered.
The room went dead silent.
Dante walked to the side of the bed.
He leaned down, his face inches from mine, his breath hot against my cheek.
"What did you say?"
"I release you," I repeated, my voice hollow. "Go be a family. Be with Sofia. Be with your heirs. I am done."
He grabbed my face, his fingers digging into my jaw.
"You never leave," he hissed, his pupils blown wide. "You belong to me. You are mine until I put you in the ground."
He let go of me as if I burned him.
"The marriage is a sham," he said, pacing the room like a caged animal.
"But we have to make it look real. For the Commission."
He stopped at the foot of the bed, gripping the rail until his knuckles turned white.
"We are doing a Vow Renewal. Tomorrow. To legitimize the children."
I laughed. A dry, cracking sound that hurt my chest.
Another wedding. Another lie.
"Sofia has forgiven you for the sabotage," he said, ignoring my laugh.
"She is generous. You will be grateful."
He walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle.
"I'll send the nurse. Get your strength up. You have a long life of penance ahead of you."
He slammed the door, leaving a ringing silence in his wake.
I lay there for a long time, staring at nothing.
Then the door opened again.
It wasn't a nurse.
It was Don Lorenzo.
He walked in with a cane, looking old and tired, the weight of the empire pressing down on his shoulders.
He placed a plain white envelope on the bedside table.
"A plane ticket," he said softly. "One way. To Seattle."
I looked at the envelope.
"The Vow Renewal is tomorrow at noon," the Don said.
"Dante will be distracted. The guards will be at the church."
He looked at me with something resembling pity, his eyes weary.
"My son is a fool," he said. "He thinks he can have it all. He thinks he can keep the crown and the girl."
He tapped the envelope with his cane.
"If you stay, he will destroy you. If you go, he will destroy himself looking for you. But at least you will be free."
I took the envelope.
It felt light, yet it held the weight of my entire future.
"Thank you," I said.
The Don nodded and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
I didn't pack.
I didn't take the clothes Dante bought me.
I didn't take the jewelry.
I stood up, my legs shaking beneath me, and walked to the window.
I looked at the city skyline, glittering like a cage of lights.
I was already gone.