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

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

I walked into the Thorn estate with another man's diamond on my finger, naive enough to think it could shield me from Marcus. But the Don of the city’s underworld didn't even blink. He called my engagement ring a "cute trinket" and introduced me to his own fiancée, Chloe, right then and there. "Love is a fairy tale for children, Ellie," he sneered. "And you are far too old for fairy tales." I tried to leave with dignity, but the knife twisted deeper. I found my mother’s silver locket—the one he swore to protect with his life—buried in the mud like trash. He hadn't just rejected me; he had erased me. Broken, I fled to Florence to marry a man I didn't love, just to escape the suffocation of the estate. But I couldn't outrun the heartbreak. I collapsed in a foreign apartment, burning with fever, while my fiancé worried more about wedding seating charts than my life. I thought I was going to die alone. Until I woke up in a sterile clinic room. My fiancé was gone. Standing by my bed, looking like a vengeful god who had just burned down a city to get to me, was Marcus. He trapped me against the mattress, his eyes dark with a terrifying mix of rage and possession. "Did you really think you could run from me?" he growled. "I returned the locket," I whispered, trembling. "We are even." "Fuck the locket," he said. "You belong to me, Ellie. And I am not leaving without you."
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Chapter 5

Ellie POV

In the days leading up to the party, I had become a shadow in the house.

I slept when they were awake. I moved when they were still.

My flight was already booked.

It departed at 8:00 PM on the night of the engagement party.

Poetic justice.

While they toasted to their future, I would be flying into mine.

I was packing the last of my clothes when there was a soft knock on the door.

Maria brought me a pastry.

"It's cannoli," she said, her eyes avoiding the open suitcase. "From the bakery you liked."

I took a bite. The sweetness exploded in my mouth.

It tasted like Italy. Like freedom.

Then, I heard voices in the hall.

"He's set her up in Florence," Marcus's assistant was saying, his voice low but carrying through the cracked door. "Bought an apartment. Even picked out a husband for later, probably."

I froze.

Marcus had arranged my life in Florence?

I thought I did that. I thought I had earned the scholarship.

No.

He pulled the strings. Even from across the ocean.

I wasn't independent. I was just on a longer leash.

Fury, hot and white, flooded my veins, burning away the lingering taste of sugar.

He didn't respect me. He managed me.

I zipped my suitcase. The sound was harsh, final-like a zipper on a body bag.

It was time to go.

I dragged my suitcase into the hallway.

And there they were.

A perfect tableau.

Marcus. Chloe.

They were standing near the stairs, dressed in evening wear.

Chloe saw me first. She immediately wrapped her arm around Marcus's bicep, staking her claim.

"Going somewhere?" she asked.

Marcus looked at me. His eyes flicked to the suitcase, then back to my face.

"I'm leaving," I said.

"Now?" Marcus asked, his brow furrowing. "The party is tonight."

"I have some personal matters to attend to."

My voice was steady. I was proud of that, considering my heart was hammering against my ribs.

"Personal matters?" Marcus stepped forward.

Chloe tightened her grip.

"Let her go, Marcus. She's a big girl. She needs to learn to fly."

She smiled at me. A shark's smile.

I looked at Marcus.

I remembered him shielding me from the rain years ago.

Now, he stood under the shelter of another woman, watching me get soaked.

"Marcus," I said.

He paused.

"From now on, you and I... we are nothing. I owe you for the food and the roof. But the debt is paid."

I saw a flicker in his eyes. Surprise? Anger? Regret?

He reached out. His hand hovered in the air.

"Ellie-"

"Don't," I said.

I turned my back on him.

I walked down the stairs.

The front door was open. It was raining again. A light drizzle.

I walked out.

I didn't look back.

If I looked back, I might turn into a pillar of salt.

I got into the taxi I had called.

"To the airport," I said.

As the car pulled away, I watched the Thorn estate shrink in the rearview mirror.

It looked like a mausoleum.

I arrived at the airport. I checked in.

I stood at the gate.

Departure: Florence.

I looked at the clock. 8:00 PM.

The party was starting.

Marcus, I thought. You were my shelter. Now, I am my own queen.

I boarded the plane.

I walked down the aisle and found my seat.

The engines roared to life.

The plane accelerated.

I felt the pressure against my chest, pushing me into the seat, pushing me away from him.

We lifted off.

I looked down. The city was a grid of lights. Somewhere down there, Marcus was drinking champagne.

I closed my eyes.

I am free.

I truly believed it.

I didn't know that freedom is just a different kind of cage. And the key was still in his pocket.

I didn't know that my text message, the one I had scheduled to send the moment I landed, would start a war.

I thought this was the end.

It was only the prologue.

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