Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, placing it in my palm.

“This is yours. Buy whatever you want-redecorate, shop, go wild.”

I stared at the black card in my hand. It might as well have been a pair of shackles.

I took a shaky breath. “Is that all?”

Luca smirked. “I think that’s the gist of it. Oh, wait-” He reached behind his back and pulled out a folded piece of paper. Where the hell was he getting all these things from?

“Here are the house rules,” he said, pressing it into my hand. “Read them. Know them. Follow them.”

My fingers tightened around the paper, but my entire body was shaking with anger.

Welcome to your new life, Ariella. Welcome to your golden prison.

“Now,” Luca said, as if he was done with the whole thing, “would you like me to give you a tour of the house?”

I crossed my arms. “I think I’m fine. I’ll figure it out by myself.”

“Of course,” he said but ignored me completely as he pulled me toward the kitchen.

He showed me around the penthouse, pointing out every detail like a real estate agent trying to sell me my own prison. The kitchen was sleek and modern, with high-end appliances I wasn’t sure I’d ever use. Then there was the library-floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, leather chairs.

Upstairs, there were three bedrooms in the right wing, a home theatre, and a playroom. On the left wing also had two bedrooms. An office and a gym. The office was Asher’s. Of course, he had a damn office in my house. Because why wouldn’t he? The playroom was the only thing that made my chest loosen a little. At least Leon would have something.

There was a small garden and a pool outside. It felt like a house built for an ideal family. The kind I never had. The kind I would never get.

As we walked down the stairs, Luca suddenly groaned dramatically.

“Took you long enough to run. My dick is about to fall off. I haven’t had sex in what feels like years.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. His words barely phased me. Working in a bar, and nearly becoming a stripper, had desensitized me to men saying crude things.

We reached the main floor, and Luca exhaled, stretching his arms. “Alright, I’m gonna take my leave.”

Relief washed over me-relief, but also something else. Maybe unease. Maybe something closer to loneliness.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify