Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 403

ARIELLA

Leon had been a very welcome, loving, and warm distraction from all the emotions and the pain I was fighting inside.

He had occupied my mind when I helped him to bed, when I read him a story, and when he fell asleep and I just sat there on his bed, watching him sleep, seeing him taking in and out air, the rise and fall of his chest as I slowly and tenderly stroked his hair.

But when Asher showed up at the door and just stood there, I knew my time was up. He smiled at me, so I had to smile back. He came towards us, kissed Leon’s head, and then held his hand out to me, so I took it. He helped me up and walked me back towards our bedroom.

Ever since I came back, yes, things had not been perfect the way we both thought it was gonna be, but it had never been this strange. Awkward.

There was just this thing... like a change in the air between us. Not because the two of us had an argument or anything, but I guess because we both knew that tonight... yeah, it had been a lot.

I got ready for bed and then came toward the bed. Asher, of course, was already there. He pulled back the blanket so I could get under the covers. He pulled me closer towards him, kissed my forehead, and turned off the lights.

I tried to go to sleep. I tried, but I just couldn't. My mind was with what happened today, with my mother, and I just couldn't fall asleep because for her to go through those lengths, she must have really... really hated me.

My mother... she always wanted the spotlight in a good way, not to draw unnecessary attention, and for her to come there and humiliate me like that, she must have been really mad.

After a while, I knew Asher wasn't asleep either. He kept slowly running his hand over my hair, over my arm. I didn't know if he couldn't fall asleep because he knew I couldn't, or because he was dealing with his own matters, or because he was dealing with what happened to me today and was thinking of a way of punishing someone.

I didn't know. All I knew was that it was probably hours later and neither of us had managed to fall asleep yet.

“Why do you think she blames me for my father's death?” I asked slowly into the quiet room.

Asher just shrugged lightly. I was lying on his chest, so we weren't watching each other's eyes and I couldn't read his expression. I started playing with the skin on his chest to distract myself and just have something to do as I continued.

“You told me my dad died in a shooting, it was on a famiglia job ... then how does that have to do with me? Why would she blame me for his death?”

I continued before he could answer.

“Every other....”

“As I told you,” he interrupted softly, “your mother is upset and she's grieving. She doesn't hate you. She's looking for someone to blame. That's all it is. Just... give it time.”

His fingers continued moving through my hair slowly.

“I know that it's new and you're going through a lot, so I understand, but do not kill yourself over it.”

“I wouldn't,” I whispered, trying to draw every emotion in.

But how can I not? I asked myself.

“How can I not?” I finally said out loud. “She's my mother, and you don't know my mother. Growing up, the only thing she was concerned about was pride, looking good in front of others, you know, one-upping the other women in the famiglia, trying to make us more than what we were, stressing my father out with that kind of thing.”

I let out a shaky breath.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify