Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 246

ASHER

Dominic finally lifted his eyes to me, but only for a second before he busied himself with the wine glass, swirling it as though there was something fascinating at the bottom.

I chuckled under my breath. “You know,” I said, tapping my knife against the plate, “our father always told us, blood comes first. Above everything. Above business. Above women. Above… temptation.”

Dominic froze. Just for a fraction of a second. But I caught it. Dinara’s hand tightened on her fork, her knuckles white.

I leaned forward, dropping my voice low, intimate, like we were sharing some sacred truth. “And I believed him. I still do. Loyalty is everything. Without loyalty, there is no family. Without loyalty, there is no us.”

I smiled at both of them, but it wasn’t warmth. It was sharp. Deadly.

The room was suffocating. I set my glass down and laced my fingers together.

“So, tell me,” I asked softly, eyes flicking between the two of them, “what do the two of you think? Is loyalty still sacred… or has it become negotiable these days?”

Dinara’s throat bobbed. Dominic stayed silent, his jaw working, his face tight. And me?

I sat back, watching. Enjoying every second of their discomfort. Because the truth was....I wasn’t going to kill them. Not yet. Death was too easy.

No, I wanted them alive. I wanted them squirming, doubting, suffocating under the weight of their own guilt. I wanted them to fear every glance, every smile, every time my hand brushed too close to a weapon.

That was justice. That was my revenge.

Dinara laughed awkwardly, the sound brittle and thin, as if she were trying to gain momentum, trying to control the situation, trying to kill the tension that clung to the room.

“Asher,” she said, her voice trembling but forced into lightness, “why are you saying all of this?”

I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t take it anymore. Pretending in their faces. Smiling at their faces. Pretending to let them think I was dumb. Pretending to keep having dinner every night, sitting across from Dinara as if she were the loyal wife she pretended to be. Pretending to listen to my brother talk to me about Dinara, reminding me, of all things, to pay attention to her.

I just....no. I don’t do well with two faces. Not this kind. Not when it comes from someone so close. Someone who is supposed to be my brother. Someone who is supposed to be my wife, even if our marriage isn't a traditional one.

And so I looked at my wife dead in the eye, let the silence burn long enough to make her shift in her chair, before turning my gaze to Dominic.

I just let it out into the open.

“I know,” I said.

Dinara laughed again, that awkward laugh of hers...thin, nervous, desperate. It was a laugh that tried too hard to cover what was really inside.

“You know what?” she asked, still playing, still pretending.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t flinch. I turned to her fully, my stare pinning her in place.

“I know,” I repeated, each word slow, deliberate. “I know the two of you have been fucking behind my back.”

Her desperation filled the room, thick and suffocating. And in that moment, as I studied her frantic eyes and the fear on Dominic’s face, I realized just how deep the rot went.

I didn’t even look at her face as she said this...not at her tears, not at her trembling hands. My eyes went straight to Dominic.

It was as if I wanted to tell him without words: Brother, you see now? You see what you gave up your blood for? What you traded your brotherhood, your family, your very name for? This pussy that would betray you in the span of a heartbeat?

And Dominic, he looked as though a mirror had been shattered in front of him. Surprised. Shocked. This was not the turn he had expected. He was still standing on alert, ready for anything, but now he was frozen, confused.

His voice broke the silence, rough and edged with disbelief.

“Are you saying that I raped you?”

But Dinara didn’t answer him. She didn’t even turn toward him. Her gaze was locked on me, desperate, clinging to me as though I were the only lifeline in the room.

“Asher, I didn’t want to do it,” she cried, “I really didn’t want to do it.”

Her pleas were hollow in my ears. So I asked the only question that mattered.

“You didn’t answer him.” My voice was low, measured, and deliberate. “Did he rape you?”

I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on Dominic, then back to her. “I would love to know every single detail of his crimes.”