Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 190

I froze. My stomach dropped.

“I... what?” I said cautiously. “Why?”

Alan took a breath. “Don’t worry. I know everything. I’m going to get you out of here.”

His words sounded in my ears like gunshots. He knew. He knew who Luca was. I stared at him, unable to breathe.

He knew. How? How could he know? Luca had been so careful. He had said they were watching, that they would know if I stepped out of line but this? How the hell had Alan found out?

I heard Luca’s voice in my mind: “Do not test me.”

And here I was. Failing that test.

Alan was looking at me like a hero. But I saw it clearly, this wasn’t a rescue. This was a disaster waiting to happen.

I stepped back. “Alan,” I said, my voice trembling. “You need to go. Now.”

“No, Ariana. You don’t understand....”

“No. You don’t understand,” I cut in. “You think you’re saving me, but all you're doing is making things worse.”

I saw the confusion flash across his face. And it terrified me even more. I turned sideways watching the road, half-expecting black cars to roll up. Half-expecting Luca himself to appear.

Because if Alan knew…

“Look, Ariana, you don’t have to worry,” Alan said, his voice low but steady. “I’ve planned everything down to the detail. I know Luca thinks he’s powerful, but I’m connected too. I know people. I can take you out of this.”

“No, Alan. No!”

I cut him off, my voice sharp, laced with everything I could muster, fear, anger, desperation. Authority.

He didn’t get it. He couldn’t.

There was no way I was letting him do this. He was going to get himself killed. And worse? I couldn’t even tell him why without sounding like I was the one losing my mind. I didn’t want Dana to lose her brother. Not because of me.

I reached for his hand, holding it tight. My fingers curled around his with so much urgency I could feel the bones beneath his skin. My grip trembled, but my voice didn’t.

“Alan,” I said, steady now. “I do not need help. I’m fine. I’m okay.”

His eyes searched mine, confused, frustrated, and determined.

“I don’t need saving,” I added softly but firmly. “You are not a hero. You are not my hero.”

I felt my throat tighten.

“Do not put your life or anyone else’s at risk trying to save me. I won’t come with you. I’m not coming with you.”

He tried to speak, but I pushed forward, shaking my head.

“Just… just take care of your sister. And Rosie. Forget about me.”

And then I let him go.

They drove off, leaving me standing on the sidewalk. It looked like Dana was the one giving me the cold shoulder now. And that somehow was better. Safer. Thank God she hates me.

I mean… I don’t like that she hates me. But this way, I don’t have to keep killing her hope that we’ll ever be what we used to be. That door is shut and never getting back.

I could sit here and overthink her sudden change, her silence, that shift in her eyes. But what’s the point? I’ve got enough ghosts in my own house.

So I turned and walked back toward the house. I walked into the kitchen. It had been so long since I’d cooked anything, I almost forgot how it felt to pick up ingredients without someone watching me.

I flipped on the television absentmindedly, just to fill the silence. My hands were busy gathering onions, eggs, tomatoes, maybe an omelette, something simple....When I heard it.

His name. My hand froze in the middle of cracking an egg.

Alex Volkov.

I turned to look at the screen. And there it was.

Breaking News.

His photo, smug, cold, and confident was plastered on the screen. And under it, in bold capital letters:

ALEX VOLKOV A WELL-KNOWN BUSINESSMAN, WAS SHOT DEAD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE STREET YESTERDAY NIGHT.

I stared. I didn’t move. I didn’t blink.

He was dead.