Claimed by the Mafia Don Chapter 20: His Weakness

ZOE DEAN’S POV

We didn’t stay long at the old club. The walls were cracked, the lights flickered weakly, and dust hung in the air like ghosts of music that once filled the place. Nero moved around quietly, scanning everything as if searching for sothing. I followed behind him, not daring to ask what was on his mind.

After a while, he turned to and said simply, "Let’s get ice cream."

It was already late, too late. The streets were mostly empty except for the occasional passing car. A chill ran through , not from the cold night but from the eerie silence that seed to swallow everything around us. Still, Nero walked like he owned the night, unbothered. Fear was a stranger to him.

When we got on the bike, he revved the engine once, the roar echoing into the quiet streets. I slid my hands around his waist, holding tightly. The wind hit my face as we sped down the road, faster than I expected. My heart raced, not just from the speed, but from the way I could feel the steady rhythm of his breathing under my palms.

And then, like a flash, I rembered what he’d said earlier about finding his mother lying in her own blood. The image burned in my mind. Whoever did that... how heartless could soone be? To destroy a man by killing the one person he loved.

The ride ended too soon. Nero pulled over in front of a small mini mart with a glowing sign that read ICE CREAM MORE. The place looked plain but welcoming. We ordered from the window. Nero asked for vanilla. I chose strawberry.

"Sir, your girlfriend is very beautiful," the man behind the counter said, smiling as he handed my cone.

My face instantly flushed with heat. Nero only gave a polite smile. "Thank you," he said casually, as if the words didn’t an anything.

We found a quiet spot nearby and sat down. People passed by—so laughing, so arguing, others lost in their own world. For a mont, it felt strangely normal.

Then the thought hit .

I turned to Nero. "Why didn’t you tell him I’m not your girlfriend?"

He looked up from his ice cream, eyes calm and teasing. "Are you not my girlfriend?"

The spoon nearly slipped from my hand. My heart stumbled in my chest. What?

I blinked, trying to read his face, but he was too calm, too unreadable. "But... I’m not your girlfriend," I said softly, unsure if I was reminding him or myself.

He raised an eyebrow, that faint smile still playing on his lips. "Don’t you want to be my girlfriend?"

The question knocked the air out of . He said it so casually, like it was a simple choice, like it was decided. anwhile, my heart was in chaos—fluttering, pounding, unsure what to do with itself.

Be his girlfriend?

Was that even a good idea?

Did I want that?

I didn’t know. All I knew was that being with him made feel things I couldn’t explain. Safe. Nervous. Alive. Like maybe I was supposed to be exactly where I was—beside him.

I hit his arm lightly, trying to cover my nervousness with a laugh. "Who asks soone out like that?"

He chuckled, rubbing the spot I’d hit. His laughter did sothing to my chest—it made forget how to breathe for a second.

"If you want to be your girlfriend," I said, pretending to be serious, "ask properly."

He nodded once, still smiling. "Fair enough."

Silence fell between us again. A soft, awkward silence. The kind that made you hyperaware of every heartbeat, every stolen glance. We both focused on our lting ice cream, pretending not to think about what had just happened. But I was.

***

STEFANO RUSSO’S (NERO) POV

I watched Zoe from the corner of my eye as she ate her ice cream. Her hands were trembling slightly. She thought I didn’t notice, but I did. She was nervous. Because of what I said.

I smiled to myself.

What she didn’t know was that I ant it. Every word.

She was beautiful, too beautiful, and not just on the outside. There was sothing soft about her, sothing I hadn’t seen in years. The first ti I realized it was the day she walked out in that black bikini, sunlight glinting off her skin. That was the day I stopped lying to myself. Sowhere along the line, I’d fallen for her.

I wasn’t supposed to. It was dangerous—for her, especially. But it was already too late.

If the world tried to hurt her, I’d destroy it. And if I ever beca the one who hurt her, I’d destroy myself first.

When we finished our ice cream, I stood and glanced at her. "We should head back now. It’s late."

She looked up, nodding softly. "Okay."

I helped her up, my hand brushing hers briefly. Her skin was cold, but her touch lingered longer than it should have.

As we rode back to the villa, I could still feel her holding onto from behind—tight, trusting, and completely unaware that she’d already beco my weakness.