RUN, LITTLE MOUSE: CLAIMED BY THE MAFIA KING

3: Midnight Run

"Get dressed. Now."

Dominic’s voice wasn’t a suggestion; it was an ultimatum. He shoved a thick, wool coat toward me, his movements sharp, stripped of the languid grace he’d displayed moments ago. He was a man bracing for war, and I was the cargo he was desperately trying to keep from being seized.

I grabbed the coat, my fingers shaking as I slipped it on. The fabric was cold, smelling of his cologne,sandalwood and that sharp, metallic undertone of danger. "Who are they, Dominic? Why are they coming for me?"

He didn't look at me. He was at the closet again, sliding a second weapon into a shoulder holster with practiced, lethal efficiency. "People who think I’ve grown soft. People who think my interest in you is a crack in the armor they can wedge a blade into."

"I'm not soft armor," I snapped, trying to channel some of the fury he seemed to want. "I'm a person."

He whirled around, his eyes locking onto mine. There was no lust in them now, only a raw, terrifying focus. "Right now, you’re the most dangerous target in Manhattan. Do you understand? The moment you stepped into this penthouse, you became the lever they’re going to use to try to pry me apart."

"Then let them," I said, a reckless spark of defiance lighting up my chest. "If they take me, you're free of me. You won't have to keep me locked up, and I won't have to look at you."

He crossed the distance between us in a single, panther-like stride, catching my chin in his hand. His thumb traced my lower lip, his touch surprisingly gentle given the violence radiating off him. "You don't get it, do you? I don't want to be free of you. I’ve spent my whole life building walls, and you’re the only thing that ever made me want to tear them down."

I pulled back, my heart hammering. "Don't say that. Don't you dare pretend this is love."

"I never said it was love," he growled, his hand tightening slightly on my jaw. "I said it was mine. There’s a difference."

The apartment suddenly groaned,not a house sound, but the low, resonant thrum of the entire building’s power grid dying. The lights blinked, flickered, and then vanished. Darkness flooded the room, absolute and suffocating, save for the faint, city-lit glow filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

"Stay behind me," he hissed, his voice a low vibration in the sudden silence.

He pushed me toward the hallway, his hand guiding me with a firm, relentless grip on my shoulder. We moved through the shadows of the living room, my breath hitching every time a floorboard creaked. The silence of the penthouse was gone, replaced by the heavy, ominous quiet of a tomb.

"The elevators are down," I whispered, my voice trembling. "How do we get out?"

"Service stairs," he muttered. "They’ve cut the grid to disable the external sensors. They’re coming through the roof or the front security breach. Either way, they’re counting on me being distracted."

He shoved me into the hallway, his body pressed against mine as he cleared the corners. Every muscle in him was coiled, ready to snap. He stopped at the heavy steel door that led to the private staircase.

"Listen to me," he said, turning to face me. The dim moonlight caught the edge of his jaw, the harsh shadows masking his eyes. "If we get separated, you run. Do not look back. Do not stop. I have people at the base of the building. Get to the black sedan parked by the hydrant. Say the word 'Cipher' to the driver. He’ll get you out."

"And you?"

"I’ll be right behind you."

"You’re lying."

He stepped closer, his hand coming up to cup my face. His palm was warm, a sharp, jarring contrast to the absolute ice of the terror gripping my veins. "I’m a man who keeps his promises, Bella. I promised you were mine. I don't let my property get broken."

He leaned in, his lips brushing against my forehead. It wasn't a lover’s kiss; it was a brand. A seal. "Run, Bella. If I tell you to run, you run like your life depends on it. Because it does."

A muffled thud echoed from the foyer. The sound of glass shattering,the front window.

"Go!" he barked, shoving me toward the stairwell door.

I stumbled through, the heavy door slamming shut behind me. I didn't wait. I bolted down the stairs, my heels clicking frantically against the concrete. The stairwell was pitch black, lit only by the faint, pulsing emergency lights. My heart was a frantic drum in my ears.

Run.

I reached the third floor, my lungs burning, when I heard the sound of footsteps,heavy, rhythmic, and closing in from the floors above. They weren't Dominic’s. These were clumsy, violent.

I skidded around the landing, ducking into the dark alcove of a storage closet. I held my breath, pressing my hand over my mouth until my knuckles turned white.

Two men in dark tactical gear descended past my hiding spot, their rifles raised. They were talking in hushed, jagged tones.

"Target is the girl. The Moretti b***h. Make sure she’s alive for the boss."

"And him?"

"He’s as good as dead. We take the girl, we take the leverage. Without the girl, he’s just another target in a suit."

My blood ran cold. They weren't here for money. They were here to shatter him. I waited until their voices faded into the lower levels before I moved, my legs trembling so violently I could barely stand. I crept down the stairs, every step a gamble against the silence.

When I finally reached the lobby, it was a war zone. The front desk was a ruin of shattered stone and splintered wood. The security team was nowhere to be seen, likely neutralized. I saw the black sedan idling near the curb, its headlights cut, a shadow against the rain-slicked street.

I burst through the side exit, the cold, biting New York air hitting me like a physical blow. The rain was coming down in sheets, turning the streetlights into blurry halos. I sprinted toward the car, my breath coming in ragged, painful gasps.

The driver’s door opened. A man in a sharp, grey suit stepped out. He didn't look like a bodyguard; he looked like a cleaner.

"Cipher," I rasped, my voice barely audible over the roar of the rain.

He nodded, his eyes scanning the street behind me. "Get in."

I scrambled into the back seat, the leather cool against my skin. As the door slammed shut, I looked back at the towering height of the penthouse. A single window on the top floor exploded outward, glass raining down like jagged diamonds into the street.

"Wait," I screamed, grabbing the driver’s shoulder. "We have to wait for him!"

"My orders are to move, Miss," the driver said, his voice flat. He slammed the car into gear, tires screeching against the wet pavement.

I pressed my face against the rear window, watching the building shrink into the distance. The city lights blurred into streaks of red and white, my world tilting on its axis. I was out. I was running. I was, for the first time in my life, truly terrified of the freedom I had been screaming for.

As we tore around a corner, the car’s radio flickered to life, static filling the cabin. A voice cut through the noise,cold, distorted, but unmistakably his.

"You think you’re free, Bella? You think the street is an escape?"

I gasped, my hands flying to my throat. The voice wasn't from the radio; it was coming from the car’s speaker system. It was him.

"You’re just running into a larger cage," Dominic’s voice murmured, smooth and mocking. "Look at the ring on your finger, my sweet, beautiful asset. You never really left my side."

I stared down at the silver band. It wasn't just a ring. The metal seemed to pulse with a faint, rhythmic blue light.

"I’m coming for you," he whispered, the sound vibrating in the very seat I sat on. "And by the time I catch you, you won't ever want to run again."

The driver looked at me in the rearview mirror, his face devoid of emotion. "He’s right, you know. You can’t outrun a man who owns the air you breathe."

I huddled into the corner of the seat, the car racing through the neon-drenched streets, the rain blurring everything into a nightmare I couldn't wake up from. I had escaped the penthouse, but the silver band on my finger felt tighter than ever.

It was a tether. And he was reeling me in.