Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 228

ARIELLA

But then, instinct cuts through the haze, a voice deep inside me screams: Leon… I have to protect him. I have to get him out of here.

Despite the tears, despite the fear, I push myself forward. Every nerve in my body screams, but that instinct, the one pulling me toward Leon, won’t let me stop. This isn’t over. Not yet.

I start crawling up, crawling toward the direction of the stairs. Every moment is slow and careful, but my mind races faster than my body. My hands scrape against the floor, my knees burn, but I can't stop because Leon is out there, and I can't let anything happen to him.

I know it's only a matter of time before Alan’s attention turns to me, before he notices where I'm going. My heart is hammering in my chest, my ears still ringing from the echoes of gunfire, screams, and the slap across my face.

“Leon,” I whisper to myself, trying to summon the power to keep moving, the power to get to him, thinking only of him.

I turn around and find Alan watching me. His eyes lock onto mine, cold, sharp, unrelenting, and my stomach drops. I whip my gaze back toward the stairs. They’re so close. All I have to do is climb them.

But when my hand reaches for the first step, a shoe clamps down on it, and pain shoots through me. I wince and cry out.

“Where do you think you're going?” comes Alan’s manic voice.

I look up. He’s standing there, his gun still in his hand, his leg pressing down where he just stopped me.

“You’re hurting me,” I say, my voice trembling.

He lifts his shoe, removing the pressure, and smiles. But it’s not a smile that brings relief. It’s cold, unhinged, wrong.

I press my hands to my chest, trying to shield myself from him, from the pain and everything.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shaky. “What is going on?”

He tilts his head, still watching me, his expression unreadable. Alan tilts his head, studying me like a predator sizing up its prey. His eyes glint with a mixture of amusement and danger, and my stomach turns.

“I’m just… making sure you don’t get too far ahead, Ariella,” he says, his voice calm but carrying an edge that sends shivers down my spine.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

He laughs, shaking his head. “You little idiot,” he says. “Now, stand up from there.”

I try to use my hands to push myself up, but the pain shoots through me, my body still disoriented. I’m not in good condition, but somehow, I manage to pull myself upright, leaning on the wall for support.

I stare at him. “What do you want?”

He looks at me then, really looks at me, and I feel like he’s scanning me, analyzing every move, every thought.

“I don’t know yet,” he says, his voice low, deliberate, “but I’ll know soon.”

Suddenly, a voice cuts through the tension. “We have to get out of here. I just got word that reinforcements are on their way.”

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