Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 295

ARIELLA

My spine straightens without me thinking about it. But then Leon’s laughter cuts through the tension.

I turn just in time to watch him jump down from the SUV behind us, Maria steadying him as he lands on the ground. He looks around with wide, curious eyes, taking everything in, the estate, the people, the fountains, the gardens, the sheer scale of everything.

“Mommy,” he says, running toward me. “This place is huge.”

I smile as I drop to my knees, catching him before he can crash into me. I cup his face, my eyes searching his gaze for fear, for hesitation, but none of it exists. There’s only excitement. Wonder.

Gosh. He really likes this place.

“Do you like it?” I ask softly.

He nods a little too quickly. “It looks like a castle.”

Asher kneels beside us, resting a hand on Leon’s shoulder.

“That’s because it is,” Asher says. “And it’s yours too. Because you are a Romano. And Romano's get to rule this place.”

Leon beams. But something inside me twists.

The staff are lined up neatly in front of the house, waiting for us. Maria steps back, giving us space, but I catch her eye for a second. She gives me a small nod, and I appreciate it more than she knows.

Asher rises first and offers me his hand again.

“Let me introduce you to everyone and show you inside,” he says. “It’s your first day. You’re tired, so nothing overwhelming.”

I nod, slipping Leon’s hand into mine. We walk toward the doors, and Asher introduces me to the man standing at the front.

“This is William,” he says. “The manager of the house.”

William looks to be in his fifties, I think, but he’s sharp, composed, standing impossibly straight. I take his hand for a shake.

“Welcome to the house, Mrs Romano,” William says. “Anything you need, I am at your service.”

I nod, and the staff behind him follow suit as Asher and I walk inside.

The house smells of polish, old stone, and something faintly metallic beneath it all. The foyer is vast, the ceilings high enough to echo our footsteps. A grand staircase curves upward, splitting into two wings. Portraits line the walls, men who ruled before Asher. Romano men.

Leon’s eyes widen.

“But when you turn fourteen,” Asher continues, “when you start becoming a man, you’ll move to the left wing. That’s where the children are expected to be.”

Leon squeals.

“And don’t worry,” Asher adds. “There’s a playroom. And anything you want changed in your bedroom, we’ll change it to make you more comfortable.”

I look at Asher.

“You don’t have to,” I interrupt gently.

“I want to,” he says quietly. “This isn’t just my house anymore.”

He swallows.

“I’m sorry about the last time I took you to that house. About how I alienated Leon... I......”