Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 163

A few weeks went by. Great ones, honestly. Leon had settled into school, made friends, and was having the time of his life with Dana’s daughter, Rosie. Everything felt smooth, natural—and easy. I say this, I guess, to paint the picture that Alan hadn’t come back. Just like he said, maybe a day, a week. I didn’t know.

At first, I kept expecting him to pop up again. You know, show up at the window like some awkward Romeo. But he didn’t. And eventually, I stopped waiting.

Maybe I was a little relieved. I’d been nervous about how I’d turn him down, how to explain that the two of us just can't be together. So when he didn’t show, I tucked it all away in a quiet box in my mind and moved on.

Everything else was going great. Really. Until one Saturday.

The four of us were coming home after the kids’ game, our usual routine. The kids were exhausted, covered in dirt and grass, and we had all their stuff bundled together in Dana’s car this time. That was normal too: sometimes we used mine, sometimes hers. Today it was hers.

When we got to her house, we all walked inside to start sorting through the chaos.... bags, drinks, little shoes everywhere. It was routine by now.

But the moment we stepped inside, I caught a familiar scent and paused.

With a sniff and a hesitant smile, I said, “Is that the smell of actual food coming from your kitchen?”

Before Dana could answer, Rosie’s voice pierced through the house.

“Uncle Alan!” she shrieked with glee, already darting inside.

My heart froze.

I didn’t even have time to react before Leon, probably feeding off Rosie’s excitement, took off after her. And I just stood there.

Still. Silent. I heard his name and something inside me stalled, like a gear grinding to a stop.

Dana turned back to me, eyebrows raised. “Come on,” she said.

“I.... I’m coming,” I managed. But my feet didn’t move right away.

I needed a minute. Maybe two. To breathe. To brace. To gather whatever pieces of calm I had left.

She walked inside and left me standing there in the hallway, staring at the open door like it was a battlefield.

I thought about turning around. I thought about walking home and pretending none of this had happened. Maybe asking Maria to come and collect Leon... But that would’ve been foolish. Cowardly, even.

So I pulled in a breath, straightened my back, and stepped inside after everyone else.

Into the kitchen. Into whatever this was going to be.

The kitchen smelled like something roasted and buttery, herbs, maybe rosemary and there was soft music playing in the background. The kind that made it feel like this was someone’s home.

For a moment, I stood at the doorway, just watching.

Alan was crouched low, laughing as Rosie tried to show him something, probably a drawing or a sticker from school. Ryan stood shyly beside them, watching with cautious eyes the way kids do when they’re not sure if someone is supposed to be part of their life yet.

Alan looked older somehow. Or maybe just tired. His hair was a little messy, sleeves rolled up, and he was still in his suit without the jacket.

He saw me. And everything in him went still.

He stood up slowly, not too fast, like he didn’t want to scare me off. Or maybe scare himself.

“Hey,” he said, voice softer than I remembered. “I didn’t know if you’d come in. Took a little minute to make an appearance.”

“That just sounds like something Allan would do,” she finally said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye.

She went on to tell me how Allan was always such a risk taker, always trying to do things differently. It was fun when they were young, she said, but now that they were getting older, she kind of hoped he would grow out of it.

Of course, then she reminded me, “I warned you about him. I warned you. When he wants something, he goes all out. So good luck turning him down.”

I was glad, of course, that after that, the topic of Alan never came up again.

Rosie tugged at his hand. “Uncle Alan, you promised we’d paint the cupcakes!”

He looked down, smiling, then back at me. “Is that okay? I promised her I’d do a bit of frosting duty before I left again.”

There it was, that reminder that this wasn’t permanent. That he’d leave. Maybe tonight. Maybe tomorrow. It wasn't worth it.

“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “Of course. Go be the fun uncle.”

As he followed the kids toward the counter, I leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, watching him.

Maria’s voice echoed in my mind like an old warning. End this before blood spills.

But there was no blood now. Just sugar, and the smell of food, and the sound of my son laughing with a man he didn’t even know well.

Alan glanced back at me once. He didn’t smile. He just held my eyes for a second longer than he needed to, long enough to ask a question he hadn’t said out loud.

I didn’t have the answer yet.