Claimed By The Mafia Don (Ariella and Asher) novel Chapter 99

Chapter 99

And now my mom was full-on crying, and I was lost as I just stood there. I wasn’t expecting this.

“Why?” I asked carefully, slowly. I didn’t believe her.

“He doesn’t think you can do it. He doesn’t want you to do it. And he’s decided to put all our lives at stake,” she said, wiping her tears. “He’s in his office right now, making a plan, calling in every favour he can to get us out of here.”

She wiped at her face again, more roughly this time.

“Ariella, we won’t survive. We can’t. We won’t survive. Nobody escapes the Mafia.”

She looked me dead in the eye, and something inside me shattered.

“Listen to me, Ariella. Go talk to your dad. Nobody escapes the Mafia. Nobody gets away. And our death… it will be hard. It will be bad. We’ll be made an example of. A warning to everyone. Come for all.”

She sniffled and tried to gather herself, or at least tried to look like she was gathering herself, as she added, “Think of yourself. Think of your baby.”

Another swipe of her nose. Her face was pale, eyes red, but her voice had steadied a little.

“You can do this, Ella. Listen to me, Ariella. You can do this. I know you can.”

Her voice shook, but she pushed through.

“The Don…he’s old. He already has mistresses. He’s not going to stop. He won’t depend on you much. He won’t seek you out much. Maybe once or twice a week. You can do this. You can do this. He’s old. He’s gonna die soon anyway.”

She looked away, her voice almost a whisper now.

“We won’t survive. I promise you, we won’t survive out there if we run.”

I stood there, still dazed, just staring at her as she turned and walked away. I felt like the whole world was coming down on me.

And I didn’t know what to do.

I never asked for any of this. I met a guy I liked. I took my shot. He liked me back. We fell in love. I experienced love. I wanted to have that love.

Is that a mistake? What did I do wrong?

I think I’ve cried too much. I can’t even give myself enough tears. Enough of whatever is needed to cry.

So I go toward my dad’s office. A knock. No answer.

I opened the door anyway. What greeted me, I wasn’t prepared for.

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Chapter 99

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My dad’s office was a disaster. Books were thrown everywhere. Papers scattered across the floor. His desk was a mess, cluttered with files and open folders, pages fluttering. Bottles. So much booze. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the air.

And my dad… he was slumped over his desk. Still in the same clothes from yesterday. It didn’t look like he’d bathed. He looked broken.

I just stood there, taking in the room, taking in him, and the weight of everything came crashing down. again. My mother’s words replayed in my head.

My dad would have just been a loyal soldier. He would have died a loyal soldier and happy… if I hadn’t

been born.

Maybe he would have lived a quiet, simple life with my mother. Maybe he would have been happy. I don’t

know. But at least he would be alive.

I walked closer… then paused. Then turned around.

I went back to the kitchen. I got him a glass of coffee. I made him something to eat.

I don’t usually cook in this house. But today I did. Eggs. Whatever I could manage. Then I carried it all

back to his office.

He was still slumped over, just like before. So I tenderly nudged him awake.

He opened his eyes grudgingly. They were red. Puffy. Tired. Eyes that had cried or were on the verge of

crying.

He looked at me. I looked at him. I wanted to cry. He probably did too. But I held it down.

“Here,” I said softly, placing the food and coffee in front of him.

He ate. Slowly. But he ate. And I was grateful.

We sat there for a while, just the two of us, surrounded by chaos.

I had to break the silence.

“Mom says you’re thinking of running away,” I said.

“We…are running away. She thinks that’s a bad idea. But all I care about right now is you. Saving you. Taking care of you. That’s my job.” He said,

“This is my job now. Me, as your father. This is my job. And you….”

My voice wavered, “You’ve done enough, Dad. You’ve done more than enough.”

But he shook his head, voice quiet but heavy. “This is my job. Me, as your father. Me, as the leader of this family.”

“You don’t have to, Dad,” I whispered. “I mean it.”

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I looked him in the eye. “Being married to the Don… wouldn’t be so bad. You would have a great position. Our name would be greater. Mom would have everything she wanted. And I…” I swallowed hard. “I’d be a queen. It’s not so bad.”

He looked at me then. A sad, tired smile touched his lips.

“I know that’s not what you want,” he said softly.

And the pain behind those words pierced deeper than anything else had.

“I can do with that,” I tell him.

He gives me a sad smile, one that tugs at me.

“It’s my fault,” he says quietly. “You’re so much like me. If you were like your mother, you’d be married to the Don by now, right?”

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