Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 231

ARIELLA

When I woke up, every joint, every part of my body ached as if I’d been crushed in a hundred places at once. I groaned, trying to move, but a hand immediately clamped over my mouth. That same whisper came again, that word that made my stomach drop.

"Shhhh....!"

I struggled to open my eyes, focusing slowly, painfully, trying to understand where I was. My hands were no longer tied. I realized I was sitting down, my weight leaning against a tree behind me. Tentatively, I touched the bark, confirming I wasn’t hallucinating. My surroundings were dense with trees, shadowed and silent. We were… in the forest?

Before I could form the question, Alan’s face appeared in front of me.

“Shut the hell up,” he whispered, sharp and deadly. “If you give them an inkling of our location, I will shoot you on the spot.”

Panic tightened my chest as memories rushed back in a brutal wave, being taken from the house, the exchange, the gunfire, the crash. My mind scrambled, trying to piece together the chaos. Where were the other men from the car? How had we ended up here? And most of all… why am I still with Alan?

His eyes darted around, manic, like he was expecting something or someone to appear out of the shadows at any second. I stayed frozen, silent, my every instinct screaming that speaking could get me killed. I had to gather my bearings, understand this moment, and hope that somehow, some way, I could survive.

A few minutes or maybe seconds later, we started hearing the crunch of branches and footsteps approaching, closer and closer. Alan’s agitation grew, his eyes darting frantically around the forest, his grip on me and the gun tightening with every step.

Then a voice cut through the quiet air.

“Alan, let’s solve this. Just let her go and I won’t come after you,” the voice said.

I looked at Alan, hoping, praying even, that he might listen. But I already knew he wouldn’t. His hand on the gun pressed down harder, and the arm covering my mouth dug in with more force.

The footsteps grew louder, more deliberate, and the voice came again, more insistent this time.

“Alan, I know where you are. I’m going to find you. I won’t leave here until I find her. Alan, just tell me where you are so we can talk. You can tell me what you want, and we can deal with this as businessmen, or you can simply let her go and leave.”

The anger flaring in Alan’s eyes was terrifying. He shook, a manic energy radiating off him as he ground his teeth and tightened his hold on me.

And then I heard it again, the tone, the unmistakable weight behind the words. My heart skipped a beat. I knew that voice. If I wasn’t hallucinating, if I was still sane in the midst of everything… that was Asher.

He had come for me. I couldn’t believe it. He had really come for me, Asher had come for me. Even though Leon was safe at home. He had come for me. But I didn’t have time to dwell on that, didn’t have a moment to think about how I felt or what my situation meant. Because suddenly, Alan stiffened, noticing the voices getting closer.

His hand on my arm tightened, pulling me up with him. I winced. I was tired. Spent. Beaten down. My body wasn’t built for this. But he didn’t care. He started dragging me along as we moved.

Alan’s grip tightened. “No. Not yet,” he spat, voice trembling with fury and fear.

He shoved me slightly forward as if to assert control, but I could feel the hesitation in him.

“Alan, this is your last chance.” Asher’s voice was calm, but every word carried authority. “Let her go. No one else has to get hurt tonight. You know I won’t miss.”

Alan’s eyes flicked toward me. For a split second, I thought I saw uncertainty, almost regret. But it vanished as quickly as it came. He turned back to face the men surrounding us, his body stiff, ready to fight, his hand still clutching the gun.

I tried to think, tried to find some way to get out of here, something to say....but my mind was fogged, my body weak. I could only cling to the hope that Asher’s presence meant a chance to survive.

The men hesitated, unsure whether to move in, the night eerily quiet except for the rustle of leaves. And then Alan’s lips turned into a cold, dangerous smile.

“You’re not going to win,” he told Asher. “I won’t let you.”

Asher looked at him, his own expression hardening. And then his voice twisted into a smile too cold, even more dangerous than Alan’s.

“You are a businessman. I want you to get what you want.... What you deserve from all this, Alan,” he said.