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The Fleeing Princess

Isabella Russo was the defiant mafia princess until Leon Moretti, her father’s underboss, was tasked with breaking her. Their volatile attraction shattered when Isabella discovered Leon was actually her secret fiancé. However, her family replaced her with an impostor sister, Elena, who stole her life and her man. Framed and tortured while Leon chose the fake, Isabella sold her engagement for millions and vanished. Now the Don, Leon finally knows the truth and begins a lethal hunt for his lost bride.
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Chapter 8

The crack of the whip split the air.

Pain lanced through my back, searing fire into my flesh.

“Isabella Russo!” My father’s roar shook the chamber. “Not only do you defy this family, you dared to lay hands on your sister—and now you dare to accuse her of being an impostor? Admit your sins!”

“I’m not wrong!” My voice was hoarse, raw. Blood filled my mouth as I bit down hard on my lip. “She isn’t Elena. She’s a fraud, and you’re too blind to see it—even your own daughter you can’t recognize!”

Another strike. My knees buckled, but I refused to scream. Refused to give them that satisfaction.

The soldiers circled, eyes like wolves waiting for me to break.

Whip after whip, the leather tore my skin, hot blood soaking through my dress. I swayed, shuddering, until finally—on the last blow—the whip snapped in two.

I collapsed onto the marble floor, vision swimming.

And through the haze, I saw him.

Adrian.

For one fragile second, my heart lurched. Some pathetic, dying part of me thought—maybe, like before, he’d pull me into his arms. Whisper against my ear: It’s alright. I’ve got you.

But his face was carved from ice.

“You never learn, do you, Isabella?”

The words pierced deeper than any lash.

A broken laugh tore from my throat, jagged as glass. Tears spilled hot and bitter. “Yes. I never learn. So what is it now, Moretti? Another lesson in obedience? Another night of your punishment?”

His jaw flexed, then he shut his eyes as if to sever whatever tether remained between us.

“I can’t teach you anymore,” he said at last, voice cold enough to kill. “Take her to the cells. Three days. Don’t hold back.”

The family’s enforcers dragged me away.

The next seventy-two hours were hell carved into flesh.

The cell stank of rot and damp. They beat me until I could no longer stand, cursed me until my ears rang. Salt and alcohol poured into my wounds, fire searing my nerves.

“Boss said to break her,” one sneered, slamming his boot into my ribs. “Break the wild out of her.”

I curled on the concrete, trembling, biting my lip until I tasted iron.

Each hour was another betrayal. Another confirmation that Adrian had condemned me.

By the time they threw me out, I was half-dead, skin fevered from infection, body barely holding together.

He stood waiting at the exit. Immaculate suit, emotionless gaze.

“Have you learned your lesson?” His voice was quiet, too quiet.

I stared back, silent. My throat refused to shape words.

His brows furrowed. For a flicker of a moment, something human cracked through his mask. He lowered his tone. “Isabella… sending you there wasn’t to destroy you. It was to—”

“Sir, the car is ready. You’ll miss the meeting.” His assistant cut him off.

Adrian hesitated, eyes locked on me. Then he exhaled sharply, turning away. “Take her to the hospital. We’ll speak later.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Hours later, my phone buzzed.

【Account credited: $200,000,000】

Seconds later, my father’s voice, venomous and sharp: “You’d better keep your word. Leave this city. Leave this family. Forever.”

A hollow laugh broke from my lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t come back.”

I hung up.

By nightfall, I slipped past the guards, dragging my battered suitcase. At the airport, I discarded my phone, the SIM card snapping in two before I tossed it into the trash.

But before I left, I set a small box on Elena’s vanity. Inside—an audio recording. My final gift. My proof.

Then I walked away.

Head high. Spine straight despite the agony tearing me apart.

For the first time in my life, I belonged to no one but myself.

The future stretched before me—wide, dangerous, mine.

And I swore: never again would anyone hold my leash.

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