Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 215

ARIELLA

I was in the bedroom. I don't know for how long....Maybe hours. Maybe minutes. Time had twisted into a fog of silence, nervousness and fear.

I felt like I was unraveling—like any second now, I’d lose my grip. Lose my calm and lose my mind. I started pacing. My fingers clenched and unclenched. My teeth ground together so tightly I thought they might crack.

I couldn’t sit still. I couldn’t breathe right. And then, I heard footsteps.

Footsteps on the stairs. My heart stilled. I stopped mid-pace, eyes darting toward the door, every nerve in my body flaring to life. I dropped down to the edge of the bed, trying to fix my face, trying to look calm, composed, like I hadn’t been seconds from breaking down.

I didn’t know what I was going to say. I didn’t have a speech prepared. I didn’t have the right words. But I had to hold it together. I had to...... Because whatever came next, it had to be okay. It had to be smooth.

No missteps.

No chaos.

No emotion leaking through.

I could do this. I had to do this. I held my breath as the footsteps drew closer. Two sets. Two different paces. One small. One larger.

Leon... and Asher.

I clutched the bedsheet beside me, waiting for the doorknob to turn. Waiting for them to come in. Waiting to see their faces, their expressions, their judgements.... But they didn’t come in. They passed the door. They kept walking.

I blinked. What?

My heart dropped into my stomach. Where are they going? And just like that, something in me snapped.

Panic.

Terror.

A voice inside me screaming..... He’s taking him away.

He’s packing his things. He’s going to leave. He’s going to walk out with Leon, and I’ll never see them again...... I’ll lose everything.

I flew to the door, but I stopped myself. I couldn’t just yank it open and chase after them like a lunatic. So I gripped the knob, turned it slowly, and stepped into the hallway with the caution of a ghost.

The silence was too much. Too loud. And then, I heard it... Voices. Low murmurs. Coming from Leon’s bedroom. I tiptoed, barefoot, careful not to make a sound. I was afraid. Terrified of what I’d see. Of what I’d feel.

Is he packing his clothes?

Is he whispering goodbye?

Is he taking him from me?

Am I losing my world?

Am I losing everything?

My hand trembled as I reached out to the doorframe. My breath caught. I didn’t dare look inside yet. I just... listened. And what I heard wasn’t goodbye. It wasn’t anger. Or chaos. Or grief. It was... gentle.

Pure joy.

The kind that children only give to people they feel safe with. The kind I had never been able to give him on my own, no matter how hard I tried.

And it hurt.

God, it hurt.

Because I have raised this boy alone. I’ve kissed every bruise, wiped every tear, stayed up through every fever, fought every nightmare. I’ve been everything.... Everything but this.

I’ve never seen him look at me like that. Like I was home. Like his world made sense now because someone was finally here, someone who looked like him, sounded like him, belonged to him.

Asher. The father never knew he was missing.

The man who now somehow fit into this space as if he’d always belonged here..... And I wanted to freeze the moment. Bottle it up. Keep it safe. Because Asher was putting Leon to bed.

His father was tucking him in. It was a moment I had imagined a thousand times in dreams, in regrets, in desperate whispered prayers to a ceiling that never answered back.

But this wasn’t how I imagined it. It was harder.

And softer. More painful. And more beautiful. It was full of everything I had hoped for… and everything I had feared. Because no matter how this story ends, I will always remember this moment.

The sound of Asher’s laughter mixed with Leon’s giggle. The way Leon’s little hand rested against Asher’s chest like it had always belonged there. The glow of the nightlight cast warmth over a scene that felt too intimate, too sacred for me to interrupt.

I pressed my back to the wall beside the door and closed my eyes. This was what I had robbed them of. This was what I had carried on my own for five long years..... And it was also what I never could have given him on my own.