Ruth Lee (TAMING THE MAFIA PRINCESS )

It cut through the dim stillness like a knife-low, rough, oozing familiarity.

"Finally awake," it said.

No one else called me by my name like that, not since I'd been dragged into this mess. My shoulders sagged with a mix of relief and weariness. For the first time since I'd been thrown into this nightmare, I wasn't alone. Not that I had any reason to trust Frank Xia—not after the things I'd seen him do.

"You didn't die," I said, my voice hoarse, barely above a whisper.

He crouched in front of me, his cold, calculating eyes scanning me for injuries. "Mmm. Disappointed?"

I shook my head, unsure if I wanted to laugh or cry. Then it hit me like a freight train: if Frank wasn't dead, then the gunshots. they had been his doing.

I stared at him, my chest tightening. "You killed them," I said, the words barely making it past my lips.

He didn't even flinch. "Yes."

One word. Flat. Emotionless. Like he was talking about the weather. I instinctively scooted back, my back hitting the cold metal of the garage wall.

"Who-who even are you?" I stuttered.

His lips twitched and would have lifted into a smile, had he bothered. "The one keeping you alive, Ruth. That's all you need to know."

Alive. That was relative. I felt my heart pound as the implications of his deeds hit me in the face like a sledgehammer. He'd slaughtered those men—because of me.

"We can't be sure this location is safe anymore," he said. Fluid, gracious, he rose. "We leave. Now.

"Go where?" My voice cracked. My legs felt like jelly, and my mind was still stuck on the image of him firing a gun with cold precision. "I can't. I can't even move."

He sighed, crouching down again, his face now at my eye level. "Then I'll carry you."

Before I could utter a word of protest, his arms slid under me, lifting me as if I weighed nothing. I gasped and instinctively clung to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. My heart hammered in my chest, not just from fear but from the proximity. His scent was a mix of sharp cologne and something distinctly him, invading my senses.

"I'm not going to drop you," he muttered, as if reading my mind.

"That's not-" I began, but then bit it back. What was the point? I buried my face in his shoulder, willing myself not to think about the bodies we were leaving behind, or that the man carrying me had put them there.

The cool night air smacked me as we stepped out into it. Faint street lamps replaced the dim garage lights. Frank wasted no time. He carried me across to a sleek black car parked a few feet away, depositing me on the passenger side, and noiselessly clicked the door shut.

I watched him circle the car, his movements quick and efficient. Once he slid into the driver's seat, wordlessly, he started the engine. The low hum of the car filled the silence as he pulled out onto the narrow, winding road.

"To Taipei," he said without looking at me.

"Taipei? That's hours away!" I stared at him, my exhaustion replaced by disbelief. "We can't drive there in the middle of the night."

"We don't have a choice," he said simply, eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Staying here isn't an option."

"Why not? Can't we just find some hotel or something?" I said, grasping for anything in the world other than being confined to a car with him for hours.

He turned to me then; his expression unreadable. "Because we're being followed."

My stomach sank. "Followed? By whom?"

"Who do you think?" he said shortly. "Your father's enemies don't give up so easily."

I swallowed hard, my mind reeling. Documents, lies, revelations about my family-it felt like too much. And now this?

"I thought you-you said you killed them," I whispered.

"Not all of them," he said. "Some got away."

I turned to the window, peering out into the darkness for any sign of headlights trailing us. "Are you sure they're still following?"

"Positive."

The confidence in his voice didn't soothe me. If anything, it made me more anxious.

"How do you know?" I pressed.

He tapped his temple. "Instinct. And experience."

"Great," I muttered, slumping back in my seat. "So we're just going to drive all night and hope for the best?"

"That's the plan," he said dryly.

I shot him a scathing look as frustration bubbled to the surface. "You're impossible, you know that?"

"And you're ungrateful," he shot back without missing a beat. "You're alive because of me, Ruth. A little gratitude wouldn't kill you."

I opened my mouth to argue but closed it again, realizing he was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I owed him my life—for now, at least.

The silence between us stretched thick and strained; I shifted in my seat, my mind filled with so many questions to which I wasn't sure I wanted the answers. Finally, I couldn't bite my tongue any longer.

"Who are you?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His hands tightened on the wheel, bleaching the knuckles white. "I told you. I'm the one keeping you alive."

"That's not an answer," I said, my frustration creeping back. "You know things about me—things you shouldn't. And you've been watching me, haven't you?"

He didn't say anything immediately. When he finally did, his voice was low, almost tentative. "We've met before."

I frowned, trying to place it. "When?"

"A long time ago," he said vaguely. "You probably don't remember."

"Try me," I challenged.

He looked at me, his face guarded. "You used to call me Uncle Frank."

The words hit me like a gut punch. Uncle Frank. It was the name stirring something deep inside, the hint of a memory of long ago. I closed my eyes, searching for the connection, but it seeped through my fingers like smoke.

"I. I don't remember," I whispered.

"Doesn't matter," he said, his voice abruptly cold again. "Just know that I've been looking out for you."

Looking out for me. It was a surreal idea, almost comical. Still, something in the upward tilt of his profile, the tension in his jaw, told me there was a lot more to this story than he was letting on.

The rest of the drive was silent; unsaid words weighed heavily between us. My eyelids felt heavy, even with all the efforts to keep them open. Finally, the exhaustion won out: I dozed off to the hum of the motor and the regular sound of Frank's breathing.

The first thing when I woke, the dawn rays were breaking over the horizon and softly glowing in gold across the city skyline ahead: Taipei. We'd made it.

"Rise and shine," Frank said with sarcasm dripping from his voice. "We're here."

I rubbed my eyes, trying to shake off grogginess. "What now?"

"Now we find a safe place to lay low," he said, pulling into an underground parking garage. "And then we figure out our next move."

I nodded, my mind already racing with possibilities. But as I stepped out of the car and followed Frank into the shadows of the garage, I couldn't shake the feeling that our troubles were far from over.

"Frank," I said, my voice shaking a little. "What if they find us again?"

He turned to me and his grey eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Then we fight."

There was a finality in his voice that sent a shiver down my spine. For better or worse, I was stuck with him now. And as much as I hated to admit it, I felt safer with him than I ever had before.