Claimed by the Mafia Don Chapter 34: Game Just Started

STEFANO RUSSO’S (NERO’S) POV

It had only been a week away from Zoe, but it felt like an entire year. Every night without her pressed on like a weight I couldn’t shake off. Her laughter, her stubborn spark, that way she’d look at like I was more than the monster the world believed to be—all of it haunted .

She’d beco a part of my days, my nights, my damn thoughts. I couldn’t sleep without seeing her smile. I couldn’t breathe without rembering the way she whispered my na like it belonged only to her.

I dragged a long breath from the cigarette between my fingers and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke curl into the night. The hotel balcony stretched before , the city lights shimring below, but I saw none of it. Only her.

I had never imagined I could fall for anyone—not like this. Not so fast. Not so completely. In barely a month, she’d beco ho.

The sliding door behind opened, and Benny’s voice cut through the quiet. "Nero, you need to see this."

Sothing in his tone made my chest tighten. Urgent. Serious. Not Benny’s usual kind of serious—the kind that ca before bad news.

I turned, the lazy haze of mory burning off as I faced him. The softness in vanished, and Don Nero—the part of built on control, suspicion, and blood—took over.

"What’s that?" My voice ca out flat, low.

Benny stepped forward, holding a thin folder in his hand. His expression was grave. "Somchai finally decoded the na of the man who killed your mother."

The words hit like a knife sliding between my ribs. For years I had chased shadows. A na had always been the missing piece—the ghost that had kept awake for half my life.

My jaw tightened. "Frenado Ashthorne?"

"Yes," he said, handing the file.

My brows drew together. "I’ve searched for this man for years." I flipped the first page, scanning quickly. "His real na’s Michael Dean?"

Benny nodded. "Yeah. Michael Dean."

The na lingered on my tongue for a mont. "Interesting," I muttered, eyes narrowing as I turned another page. My pulse had started to rise, the way it always did when revenge was near enough to touch.

But then Benny’s voice broke through my concentration. "Don’t you see it?"

I glanced up. "See what?"

"The surna."

I frowned. "What about it?"

"The resemblance. Michael Dean... and Zoe Dean."

The words hung there, cold and sharp, before they fully registered.

My face hardened. I lowered the file slowly. "What the hell are you saying, Benny?"

He drew a breath, steadying himself. "I’m saying, Michael Dean is Zoe’s father."

For a mont, I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. The air thickened around us.

Then my jaw set. "You must be joking," I said, my voice low, dangerous.

Benny didn’t blink. "You think I’d joke about this? I’m dead serious, Nero. Michael Dean is Zoe’s father. She’s his only child."

My fingers clenched around the file until the paper began to crumple. No. That’s not possible. My mother’s murderer—the bastard who had destroyed everything I had left—was Zoe’s father?

The sa Zoe who slept in my arms, who whispered that she loved ?

The sa Zoe who looked at like I was the only thing that mattered?

The sa Zoe I had fallen madly in love with? Impossible!

My pulse hamred in my temples. "What do you an she’s that murderer’s daughter? You’re basing this off a surna?" My voice was sharper now, half a growl.

Benny sighed, running a hand over his face. "No, Nero. I checked everything—records, photos, tilines. Zoe Dean is Michael Dean’s daughter. It’s all here."

He hesitated. "But the man’s been missing for months."

My heart pounded, the file trembling slightly in my grip. "Are you saying Zoe’s involved? That she’s an accomplice?"

Benny shook his head quickly. "No, I don’t think she is. I checked her record—she’s clean. Too clean, almost."

I stared at him, my patience thinning. "Go on."

He took a breath, glancing out at the city before eting my eyes again. "I think this was planned. All of it—eting her, taking her in, falling for her. They set this up."

I froze. Then the words tore out of before I could stop them. "What the fuck do you an?"

Benny flinched but didn’t back down. "You rember Marcus?"

I frowned. "The bastard who owed money and disappeared before paying up? Of course I do."

"You told you were suspicious when he pointed out Zoe at that bar—said she was his girlfriend. Rember?"

"Yeah, and?"

"Can’t you see?" Benny snapped. "It was their plan from the start. Marcus was working with them. They knew you’d take her, Nero. They knew exactly how to bait you."

I stared at him, disbelief twisting into fury. "You’re saying Zoe was a trap?"

Benny’s voice was steady now, deadly sure. "I’m saying they would use her to bring you down—just like they did to your father. You fell for her, Nero. And that’s exactly what they wanted."

The silence that followed was suffocating.

I could hear the city far below—the hum of cars, a siren in the distance—but inside , there was only the echo of Benny’s words and the roaring pulse of blood in my ears.

My grip tightened around the folder until the edges bit into my palms. My heart warred with my mind—the part of that loved her against the part that trusted nothing.

Could Benny be saying the truth? Was all this planned? Was this another ga of ghosts trying to destroy through the only light I’d ever found?

A bitter laugh escaped , low and humorless. "If this is true," I said finally, voice cold, "then the ga just changed."