Claimed by the Mafia Don-Chapter 51: Going Back

ZOE DEAN’S POV

Morning came softly.

For a long moment, I just lay there — half-awake, half-lost — listening to the low hum of the air conditioner and the faint chatter of birds outside the window. The world smelled like coffee and sunlight. Peaceful. Ordinary.

It was the kind of morning that made me want to pretend nothing had changed, that last night hadn’t happened. But it had. Every word, every tear, every truth that had broken something open inside me — all of it was real.

I rolled onto my side and stared at my small suitcase in the corner of the room. It was half-open, clothes spilling out like even they didn’t want to leave.

Last night, I told Nero I’d go back with him.

Just thinking about it made my stomach twist — not with regret, but with fear. Fear that I was stepping back into a dangerous world. Fear that I might lose myself there. But underneath all that fear was something else... something softer, quieter.

Love.

As terrifying as it was to admit, I was already in too deep. I loved him. And the thought of a life without him — of waking up in a world where he wasn’t there — felt impossible.

A soft knock broke through my thoughts.

"Come in," I said.

The door opened slowly, and Aunt Gina stepped in, balancing a tray with two mugs of coffee. Her hair was still messy from sleep, and her robe hung loosely around her shoulders, but her eyes — those warm, knowing eyes — caught everything.

"You’re up early," she said, setting the tray on the nightstand. "Couldn’t sleep?"

"Not really," I admitted, sitting up. "Too much on my mind."

She gave a little nod, as if she’d expected that. "I figured." She passed me a mug, her voice soft but searching. "I wouldn’t be sleeping either if I were you."

I smiled faintly. "I tried."

She sipped her coffee, studying me over the rim. "So," she said after a moment, "you told him you’d go with him, didn’t you?"

My fingers tightened around the mug. "Yeah. I did."

Her brows drew together — not in anger, but in quiet concern. "Are you sure that’s what you want?"

I stared at the coffee, watching the faint curl of steam rise from it. "I don’t know if it’s what I should want," I said honestly. "But... it’s what my heart wants."

Her hand found mine, warm and firm. "Zoe," she began softly, "you’ve been through so much already. Your father, your mother’s death... everything. You’ve fought so hard to build something normal again."

"I know," I whispered, blinking against the sting in my eyes. "But Nero makes me happy. I care about him. I really do." 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

Her thumb brushed my knuckles gently. "Are you sure you want to be with someone like Nero?" she asked, her tone careful. "He’s dangerous, Zoe. He’s mafia. He might mean well, but his world isn’t safe — not even for people like him."

The words hung between us, heavy and painfully true.

I met her eyes — the woman who had been my shelter when everything fell apart. "You really don’t like him, do you?"

She smiled faintly. "I didn’t say that. He seems like a good man... for you, maybe. But I also know how dangerous that life can be. When your mother met your father, she thought love would be enough. It wasn’t. And I just—" She paused, her voice trembling a little. "I just don’t want history repeating itself."

I looked down at our joined hands. "Nero can protect me," I said quietly, almost to myself.

Aunt Gina’s eyes softened with something that looked a lot like heartbreak. "Then I hope he does," she said finally. "Because if anything happens to you... I’ll never forgive him."

I smiled through the lump in my throat and leaned in to hug her. "Thank you, Aunty," I whispered against her shoulder.

She hugged me tight, her voice barely above a whisper. "You’ve always been my girl. Don’t forget that."

When we finally pulled apart, she smiled, eyes glistening. "Tell Nero I don’t joke about you."

That made me laugh. "I’ll definitely let him know."

Her hand lingered on my cheek before she stood. "I’ll pack some food for the both of you."

"Aunt Gina—" I started, but she turned back.

"I’ll come back," I said quickly, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My throat tightened. "I promise."

Her eyes shimmered. "You’d better," she said softly. "This house gets too quiet without you."

When she left, the silence filled the room again — thick, tender, almost sacred.

I looked around one last time — the photo frame by the bed, the desk by the window, the faint sunlight painting everything gold. My heart ached with the kind of sadness that comes when you’re leaving home, even if you’re not sure where you’re going next.

I began to pack. Slowly. Carefully. Each fold of fabric, each zip of the suitcase felt like a countdown.

******

By the time I came downstairs, Paul and Micah were already at the table, halfway through breakfast. The smell of pancakes and syrup hung in the air. Aunt Gina was at the counter, wrapping something in foil.

"Morning," I said softly.

Paul looked up, cheerful as always. "Morning, kiddo! You’re up early. Big plans today?"

My heart stumbled. I opened my mouth, but Aunt Gina spoke before I could.

"She’s heading back with her friend," she said gently.

Paul’s fork froze mid-air. "Back? With Nero?"

I nodded. "Just for a while."

His expression tightened. "Did something happen?" He turned to Aunt Gina. "You’re letting her go?"

"I tried to convince her," Aunt Gina said quietly, "but she’s made up her mind."

I smiled faintly. "There’s something I have to fix," I said. "Something I need to do."

Paul studied me for a moment, then sighed, leaning back in his chair. "You can stay here as long as you want, Zoe. You know that, right?"

"I know," I said softly. "Thank you."

His gaze softened. "You sound just like your mom when she made up her mind."

That hit me straight in the chest — a strange, bittersweet ache. "Is that a compliment?"

He chuckled. "The highest kind."

Micah looked up then, cheeks puffed with syrup. "You’re leaving already?" he mumbled.

I reached over and ruffled his hair. "I’ll come back. Promise."

He swallowed quickly. "Bring me a game when you do?"

I laughed. "Deal."

Aunt Gina came around the counter then, holding out a paper bag. "Chicken sandwiches," she said, her voice trembling just a little. "He doesn’t strike me as the breakfast type."

I grinned. "You’re right about that."

She cupped my face in her hands. "Be safe, my girl."

"I will," I whispered.

*********

Outside, the morning air was cool and bright. Nero was leaning against his car, phone in hand. When he saw me, he slipped it into his pocket and straightened up.

"You’re ready," he said quietly.

I nodded, holding up the paper bag. "Aunt Gina made sandwiches."

His lips curved faintly. "She’s kind."

"She’s everything," I said, following his gaze toward the house. "Don’t forget to thank her."

He hesitated. "Do you want me to come in? Say goodbye?"

I shook my head, smiling sadly. "No. It’ll only make her cry more."

He nodded slowly. "Then we should go before she changes her mind and locks you inside."

We both laughed — softly, but the sound was heavy with emotion.

As I walked toward the car, Aunt Gina appeared on the porch, arms crossed, smiling through her tears. I waved. She blew me a kiss. Paul lifted his coffee mug in salute, and Micah darted out after me, shouting, "Don’t forget my game!"

"I won’t!" I called back, laughing even as my chest tightened.

Then I turned to Nero. "Let’s go."

He opened the door for me, and I slid inside. When it shut, the sound felt final — like a door closing on one Chapter and opening to another.

The tires crunched softly over the gravel as we pulled away. I watched the house shrink in the side mirror until it disappeared behind the trees.

For a long while, neither of us spoke. The morning sun poured across the road, and the soft hum of the engine filled the silence.

Finally, Nero asked quietly, "You okay?"

I nodded, though my voice came out smaller than I intended. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

He glanced at me briefly. "About what?"

"Everything," I murmured. "My father. Your mother. Us." I swallowed hard. "I still don’t understand how something so terrible could bring us here."

His grip on the steering wheel tightened slightly. "Maybe that’s how life works," he said after a moment. "Sometimes the worst things lead us to the right people."

I looked at him — really looked. The sunlight brushed over his profile, the rough line of his jaw, the quiet strength in his eyes. "You really believe that?"

He smiled faintly. "I do now."

Something warm unfurled inside me. I leaned my head against the window, letting the rhythm of the car steady my thoughts.

After a while, I whispered, "Nero?"

"Yeah?"

"When you left... did you ever think I’d forgive you?"

He was quiet for a beat before answering. "No. Not really."

I nodded slowly, my chest tightening with emotion. Without thinking, I reached across the console, letting my fingers brush his. He didn’t pull away.

We drove like that — our hands resting together between us, silent but connected — as the world outside blurred into sunlight and wind.

Somewhere in the distance, the ocean disappeared behind us, and I found myself smiling faintly.

I could already imagine Emily’s scream when she saw me again. I’d missed her — missed everyone back in Thailand.