Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 242

ASHER

I didn’t want to be here. It was the last place on the planet I wanted to be. These were the last people on Earth I wanted to spend the day....or the night, with. But here I was, sitting in a meeting with my men, the captains, and the leaders of my famiglia.

It was necessary. I had to know what was going on, to show my presence, to show them I was still strong, that I wasn’t running, I wasn’t hiding. That we were still strong. I had to cut a few tongues to make them understand I meant business.

Before even before I even came to this meeting, Luca asked to talk to me.

“What is it about?” I asked.

“It’s about Dominic and Dinara’s situation.”

“What about them?” I asked.

“There’s something more going on there. I think they’re planning something.”

“They have always been planning something,” I told Luca. “And I’m not in the mood to talk about them right now. Let me figure this out first, and then I’ll figure Dinara and Dominic later.”

“It’s serious,” Luca said. “I think we should look closer into them.”

“They’re fine,” I said as I went into the meeting.

But Luca was relentless.

As I got out of the meeting, stepping into the car and about to go home, he came to me again.

“There are words I heard about Dominic. He’s been talking to the Russians.”

“Of course he has. He’s fucking one....why wouldn’t he talk to them?” I asked him unbothered.

Luca clenched his teeth as he said.

“Okay, you’re tired. I know you didn’t want to be here, so you are out of it. I’ll let you be. But I’m not letting this go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, again.”

“Whatever,” I muttered, sliding into the car.

When it was over, I left and climbed into my car, heading toward my house. My house...supposed to be home, but not really. Just somewhere my wife was. Not where 'she' was.

I didn’t think she would be waiting for me there. I prayed to God she wasn’t. Not today. Not after everything I had been through. Not after the struggle of leaving the woman I loved and my son, my own blood, behind. Not coming to this...

I kept replaying the promise Ariella wanted me to make in my head.

The home was quiet, but too quiet. That should have been my first clue. But I was damn tired. I just wanted to take a shower and sleep.

Just as I started up the stairs, a voice cut through the silence. My immediate thought: Not today.

“Oh, I see. You’re home again.”

I turned around, and there she was.... My wife.

“Dinara, I’m not in the mood for whatever you have in store for me,” I told her.

“I want you to be my husband,” she said. “I want you to be there. I want you to act like one. I needed you. I needed you so much.”

I nearly rolled my eyes.

“...And people were speculating that you killed Alex at the funeral. Did you kill him?”

“Did I have a reason to?” I asked her instead.

I think this is my time to know if Dinara knew anything about Alex’s motive, his plans with Ariella. This is how I can get it, because if she knows about Ariella, who knows who else she might use against me.

But Dinara only laughed.

“I would love to know that too. I am also wondering why. Why would you kill my brother? Is this because he talked to you about me? Is this because he told you to be the man that you promised to be? You promised you were going to do everything to be the husband and the father and give me what I needed, what I wanted. And you never owned up to it.”

“You’re still gonna play the Guilty Trip Club card, really, Dinara? Really, now? You really choose now, when I’m not in the mood."

" I don’t care if you’re not in the mood." She snapped back.

"Isn’t Dominic here? Or did he go see one of his… hoes, feeling lonely, and you’re looking for someone to lash out at because your lover isn’t here?" I gave her a wicked smile.

"Wasn’t he there to hold your hand, to hold you in his arms when your brother died? Didn’t you go with him to the funeral? I think I even saw a picture of you, hanging in his arms, inconsolable, and he was playing the part of the gentleman, the husband… on my part, really well. I fail to see what the problem is.”

“The problem,” Dinara snapped, “is that he is not you. He’s not you...”

I laughed then. “What you’re saying is the problem is that he’s not the Don. He doesn’t have power, isn’t it?”