Claimed by the Mafia Don Chapter 4: She’s Mine

STEFANO RUSSO (NERO) POV

We sat across from each other at one of my friend’s restaurants, tucked away in a private corner. The soft hum of conversations and clinking of cutlery filled the room, but here, at our table, it felt strangely quiet, intimate even.

It had been a long ti since I’d had dinner with anyone. Longer still since I’d let soone into my private space.

I was supposed to be eating, but my fork hovered uselessly above my plate. Instead, I found myself watching her.

The way she ate—slow, deliberate, unhurried—was different. Calm. Innocent. Her white hair adding beauty to the red dress she wore. Her finger trembling, but still she looked good.

My chest tightened, and then my heart gave a sudden, hard beat. A warning echoed in my head. Don’t do this. This is wrong. This is how n fall. This is weakness. Dangerous.

But I couldn’t look away.

What was it about her? This feeling of..fort? Safety? I’d forgotten what that felt like.

Earlier, when she’d stepped out of the dressing room, she had taken my breath away. Gone was the plain girl in a white shirt and black skirt. In her place stood soone stunning. Effortless beauty. I still didn’t know how I’d ended up with her sitting here, across from , like she belonged.

And yet, one thing was already clear to . I wasn’t letting go.

She was mine.

"You’re not eating?" Her voice was soft, pulling from my thoughts.

I blinked. I hadn’t even realized she’d stopped eating to watch .

"Eat first. I lost my appetite," I said, my tone casual.

She gave a small nod and lowered her gaze back to her plate, but I could see the faint crease between her brows. She didn’t quite believe .

I leaned back in my chair, still watching her. "What’s your na?" The question slipped out before I’d even realized I’d never asked.

She paused mid-bite, swallowed, then looked up at . Her eyes searched my face, cautious but curious, as if she were trying to read .

Truth was, I didn’t want her to know who I really was. Not yet. Not the man with blood on his hands. Not the man who could be very dangerous.

"Zoe... Dean," she said quietly.

I let the na roll off my tongue. "Zoe Dean. Nice na."

She smiled faintly. "Thank you."

"And how old are you?"

"Twen... twenty-one."

For a mont, it felt almost normal—just two people having dinner. I reached for my cutlery, finally thinking of eating, but then she spoke again.

"If you’re not going to kill ..." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "...then what will you do to ?"

My hand froze. I glanced up at her, catching the flicker of fear in her brown eyes. She was braver than she looked, asking that outright.

I’d known she’d ask eventually, but now wasn’t the ti.

"When we get back to the hotel, we’ll talk," I said evenly.

Her eyes widened, just for a mont. "Hotel?"

A slow smile tugged at my lips. I already knew what she was thinking. "Not what you’re thinking," I said, voice low but reassuring.

She gave a nervous, fleeting smile and lowered her eyes.

The mont was fragile, almost tender—until a shadow fell over our table.

"Boss," a voice murmured.

I looked up sharply. One of my n stood there, head bowed slightly. The interruption tightened sothing in my chest. If he’d approached here, it had to be serious.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Jamiel is here."

I frowned, my eyes flicking briefly to Zoe. She was watching with a curious, almost questioning look. My world—the one I’d kept separate—was creeping closer, threatening to swallow her.

I pushed my chair back slowly. "Excuse ," I said, my voice softening when I turned to her. "I need to take care of sothing. I’ll be back."

She nodded, innocent, but her fingers gripped her fork a little tighter.

I left the table and stepped out into the cool night air. A few of my n waited outside, leather jackets catching the dim streetlights. Their bikes lined the curb like steel beasts.

When I approached, they lowered their heads.

Jamiel swung off his bike and ca toward . "Boss."

"This better be important," I said, my patience thin.

"It is." He paused, then added, "We caught the Russian."

My eyes narrowed imdiately. "Where is he?"

"Torture zone. What do we do about him?"

I didn’t hesitate. "Make him confess where his boss is hiding," I ordered, my voice like ice.

"Yes, Boss." He nodded quickly.

"And Jamiel, next ti, you call."

He bowed his head and stepped back.

I turned and walked back inside.

Through the glass doors, I could already see her. Sitting alone at the table, glancing around, her unease obvious even from here. She didn’t belong in this world. And yet, here she was.

When I reached her, I forced a small smile and slid back into my seat.

"Hey, baby," I teased lightly. "Looking for ?"

She smiled faintly but didn’t answer, turning back to her food instead.

I picked up my fork. The sll of the food, the clatter of cutlery—all of it faded. Because when I was with her, I forgot. I forgot I was a feared don. I forgot how dangerous I was. I forgot how many lives I’d taken.

For a mont, sitting here with her, I was just a man at dinner.

After dinner, I settled the bill and we made our way back to the car. The night air was cool, carrying the faint hum of traffic and laughter from the restaurant behind us. I opened the door for her and she slid in quietly, smoothing her dress as she sat.

I walked around, slid behind the wheel, and started the engine. The low rumble filled the silence as I eased us out of the parking lot.

For a while, the only sound was the tires rolling against the asphalt. But sothing in itched, curiosity I couldn’t shake.

"You’re not scared of anymore, right?" The words slipped out before I even thought about them. I didn’t know why I needed to ask, but I did. I needed to know.

From the corner of my eye, I saw her glance at , quick but sharp, before fixing her gaze back on the road ahead. She didn’t answer right away, and the silence stretched. Just when I thought she wouldn’t respond, her voice ca, calm but steady.

"I was never scared of you."

My brows lifted. That caught off guard. I turned my head slightly, just enough to study her expression. She wasn’t joking. Bold.

How the hell was this girl not scared of ? Didn’t she see what I was? Didn’t she feel it? Everyone else did. But her? No. She sat there like I was just so man driving her ho.

She went on, her voice softer now but no less firm. "I know you’re dangerous. But I’m not scared of you."

I smiled. "Why?" The question ca out calm, firm.

She shrugged, eyes still forward. Another beat of silence passed before she added, "Because you should’ve killed by now. But you haven’t."

That pulled a smile out of , slow and unguarded. Damn, she was bold. Bolder than I’d expected.

"So how sure are you that I won’t?" I pressed, leaning into the question, curious to see if I could shake her.

Her head turned then, eting my gaze directly. "I’m not sure. I’m just living on my luck."

That made laugh under my breath, a real laugh. My chest eased. She wasn’t only bold—she was fearless in a way that didn’t co from power. It ca from sothing I didn’t understand.

I made a sharp turn, tires screeching against the road. She gripped the door handle but didn’t flinch otherwise. I pushed down on the accelerator, the car picking up speed as I glanced at her.

"I guess that’s why you’re still here," I said, voice low with sothing close to admiration. "You’re bold. And I like a bold woman."

Her lips curved and a small chuckle slipped out. I caught it, and for so reason, it felt better than the sound of the engine roaring.

We drove in silence for a while, my speed reckless, but she didn’t complain. She just sat there, her eyes calm.

By the ti we pulled into the estate, the guards straightened at the sight of the car. They greeted with respect, voices dipping in deference. I gave them a nod and drove past the gates.

Beside , Zoe was wide-eyed, her head turning to take in the manicured lawns, the tall streetlights, the quiet security that wrapped around the place.

"Is this where you stay?" she asked, awe lacing her voice.

"Yeah, baby," I said with a grin, letting the words co out light. "This is where rich n hide when they want peace."

Her eyes lit up. "It’s beautiful."

Her voice was so soft, dazed, almost childlike with wonder. I caught myself smiling at the way she looked at it—like she was seeing a piece of the world she didn’t think existed.

The car rolled past rows of sleek machines—rcedes, Bentleys, BMWs, Porsches, and more. I saw her eyes widen with each one. She wasn’t even trying to hide her awe anymore.

I parked in front of the hotel. It rose above us like a mansion carved out of wealth and secrecy, its windows glowing against the night sky.

I killed the engine, stepped out, and moved around to her side. She was still staring, lips parted slightly, caught between disbelief and amazent.

I opened her door, and she turned those wide eyes up at with a smile she couldn’t hold back.

Grabbing the boxes of dresses I’d bought her earlier, I straightened and nodded toward the entrance. "Co on," I said, walking beside her.

Her gaze never stopped moving—walls, lights, cars, people—like she was trying to morize it all at once. And damn, the look on her face almost made forget what kind of world she’d just stepped into.