Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 171

Alan had taken me home last night. We got back safely.

At the front door, he kissed my forehead. Soft, almost like a whisper and waited until I stepped inside before turning toward his house.

Maria was still awake, just like she said she would be. She didn’t say a word when she saw me. Just closed the door behind me, silently, and started up the stairs.

I thought about calling after her. But the truth was—I didn’t have anything to say. Nothing that would make sense. Nothing that would change whatever she was thinking. So I let her go.

The house was quiet. Still. I walked into the living room and found it just as she’d promised: a sleepover setup.

Rosie and Leon were curled up together in their makeshift nest of pillows and blankets, deep in sleep. Safe. Dreaming. Completely unaware of the storm stirring around them, of the choices their mothers were making.

I slept on the couch that night. There was no way I could let the kids sleep down there alone.

Sometime just before sunrise, I was jerked awake by a knock at the door. Groggy and blinking, I glanced outside. The sky was still soft and grey, not fully morning yet. I looked at the clock—5:02 AM.

Who the hell could be knocking at this hour? I dragged myself to the door and opened it.

It was Dana. But… not the Dana I knew. She looked like a train had hit her and then backed up just to check. Her hair was all over the place, like she'd been in a wind tunnel. Her makeup was smeared and tired. She looked like she’d either slept in an alley or hadn’t slept at all.

“Dana? Are you okay?” I asked immediately.

She didn’t answer. Just pushed past me and into the house. I closed the door as she whispered,

“Where are the kids?”

“In the living room. Still asleep,” I told her.

“Good,” she said, relieved, and then, “Come with me.”

She made a beeline for the kitchen like it was her own home, tossing her purse onto the counter and pacing behind the island.

“Hey,” I said carefully. “Are you okay? Did something bad happen?”

She shook her head.

“Is someone hurt?” I asked, now worried

Another head shake.

I stepped closer, her pacing starting to unnerve me.

“Dana, you’re freaking me out. What the hell happened?”

She stopped. Turned to me. Her eyes locked onto mine.

“Do not judge me,” she said, her voice low and deadly serious.

“Okay,” I said, genuinely confused and now mildly terrified.

She took a breath.

“I slept with David,” she whispered.

“Oh,” I said. “I kind of thought so.”

“You did?” She blinked at me, eyes narrowing like she hadn’t expected that.

“Yes,” I said. “The chemistry between the two of you was... undeniable. I mean, I knew something was there.”

Dana looked at me like I had just read her diary out loud.

“You knew?” she said again, still stunned.

I nodded slowly. “I mean, it was obvious to everyone but maybe you two.”

She groaned and dropped onto one of the kitchen stools, burying her face in her hands.

“Oh God. I feel sick.”

I looked at her—really looked at her. Her smudged makeup, the wild strands of hair falling from the bun she didn’t bother to fix, the shadow in her eyes that hadn’t been there yesterday. I could see it all. She wanted to believe it was a mistake. Needed to believe it.

I knew that feeling.

She didn’t want to feel what she was feeling. She didn’t want to face how deeply she had fallen without even meaning to. And now wasn’t the time to unpack all of that. So instead, I offered her what I thought might help, even just a little.

"Maybe he'll change," I said softly. "Maybe he’ll want more... with you."

She flinched, the words slicing through her.

"No," she said quickly, almost as if she needed to hear herself say it out loud. "No, no. That will never happen."

Her voice was sharp now, defiant.

"Look, Monique," she said, facing me fully. "I have a daughter. Rosie. She needs me. I need to be there for her... Why am I even thinking about this? It’s not like we’re going to be in a relationship or anything."

I swallowed. “So... where is he? What does he think?”

She looked down again. Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her clothes.

"What did you do?" I asked gently.

“I woke up. We were at his hotel,” she admitted in a whisper. “I woke up and he was still asleep. I didn’t want to have that conversation. So I got dressed really quickly, grabbed my stuff, and came here.”

She ran her hands through her hair again. “Oh my God, I hope I’m not a mess. I didn’t even look at myself. I just wanted to get out before he woke up.”

A soft, shaky breath left her lips.

“Maybe he won’t even remember. Maybe... we can all put this in the past.”

I gave her a small, sad smile, knowing full well that nothing about this was going to be that simple.

But then her entire body tensed.