Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 216

ARIELLA

I found myself slumping down on the wall beside the door, knees pulled up to my chest, my head buried in my arms. I don’t know how long I sat there, wrapped in my own heartbeat, in the ache of everything I had just witnessed.

But then… I heard it. Click!

The soft sound of the door opening. My head shot up and there he was...Asher.

Standing tall in the doorway, still and quiet, staring down at me. I scrambled to get to my feet, not thinking, just reacting. But my legs, my goddamn legs, they didn’t want to work. I staggered slightly, my balance faltering for just a second, and instinctively, I expected him to reach out. To steady me. To do something.

He didn’t.

His hands stayed right where they were, clenched at his sides, fists curling into the fabric of his pants like he was holding something in, like he was fighting something inside himself.

And then I saw it. The look in his eyes.

It was beyond anger. Beyond rage. It was something deeper. Colder. A kind of quiet fury that doesn’t burn hot, it freezes.... It freezes everything it touches. It chilled the air between us. Froze the words in my throat. Sent a shiver so deep through my spine, I swear I felt it in my soul.

He looked at me like he didn’t recognize me.

No, worse. Like he did, and hated what he saw. His eyes held something brutal. Like if words weren’t enough, his silence might shatter me.

He took one step forward. And I… I took two back. Reflex. Fear. The kind I hadn’t felt in years, not because I thought he’d hurt me, but because the look in his eyes told me he already had.

And it was working. I was breaking. A sound came out of me, soft and shaking, a whimper I didn’t recognize as mine. It surprised me. It humiliated me. I hadn’t meant to sound small. I hadn’t meant to sound afraid.

But he made me feel small.

“Asher…” I whispered, my voice trembling, trying to reach for something that used to be between us. “Please, I can explain.”

I knew he had every right to be angry. I would be, too. Hell, I am angry at myself. But that look in his eyes?

It wasn’t just anger.

It was a betrayal.

It was heartbreak.

It was war.

He didn’t say a word. Just stared. Silent. Towering. I took another breath, even though my lungs didn’t want to cooperate.

“There’s a valid explanation,” I said, voice shaking but stronger this time. “I didn’t keep him from you to hurt you. I didn’t plan it....”

Still, he said nothing. His silence was thunderous. I stepped forward, just a little, desperate, feeling my palms sweat, my throat tighten.

“You have to believe me.”

But from the way he was looking at me… I knew. He didn’t. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

Asher didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.

But I wasn’t saving anything. I was hiding. And now… Now all I could do was sit there on those cold, silent stairs, drowning in the sound of the door that had just closed on me. On us. So I cried.

I cried for what I lost.

I cried for what I broke.

I cried for the man I loved walking away with every right to hate me.

I buried my face in my hands and let the sobs take me. No restraint. No pride. No point in pretending. Because I had already lost everything that mattered.

And there was no one to blame but myself. After the tears had dried up, I stayed there. Curled up on the stairs like a forgotten thing. My body aching, my mind numb, my throat raw from crying, but I couldn’t move. I wouldn’t. I didn’t want to miss it if he came back.

So I just sat there. Staring at the front door like it held the answer to everything.

Waiting.

Hoping.

I kept imagining it...the door swinging open, Asher stepping in, his jaw still tight but his eyes… maybe softer this time. Maybe willing to talk. Maybe ready to listen. Maybe ready to try.

I kept thinking that maybe after walking away, he’d remember who we were. What we had. What we could still be. I told myself he’d be back. He just needed air. Just a few minutes. Then maybe an hour. Then another....

But the door stayed shut.