Page 141 of Claimed At First Sight

The moment Ari disappeared, Mia stopped caring about everything else. All that mattered was finding her sister.

It’s the kind of instinct that can’t be taught.

Mia Accardi would never become one of those cold, detached Mafia wives who hand their children off to staff and call it motherhood. She’d be hands-on. Protective without making them soft.

I smile. I chose well.

Chapter Forty

Mialina

Vittoria looks radiant in white, and Maximo is annoyingly handsome in his black tuxedo.

I sit among the guests gathered inside the Marco family chapel, watching them exchange vows beneath a sea of flowers.

This is perfect.

Exactly what I wanted.

Maximo gets his suitable Mafia bride, Vittoria gets the man she’s always wanted, and I get to return to Sicily without any further discussions about marriage and heirs.

Then the chapel dissolves around us.

One moment, Maximo is sliding a ring onto Vittoria’s finger. The next, they’re alone in a bedroom, and considerably less dressed.

Maximo slowly unbuttons his shirt.

One button.

Then another.

My eyes are riveted to the spot where the dark fabric parts to reveal a broad chest sculpted with hard muscle.

Vittoria watches from the bed with justified appreciation. I can’t even blame her. Nature was generous when constructing Maximo Marco, and she’s about to enjoy the benefits.

His hands move to his belt.

My gaze follows. Vittoria smiles.

Something hot and unpleasant twists through me as Maximo turns toward her.

Then he reaches for the zipper on his pants.

My eyes fly open.

For several seconds, I stare into the darkness of my bedroom, breathing as though I’ve just sprinted across Aldo’s entire estate.

Heat clings to my skin beneath the blankets. My thighs are pressed together, and there’s an ache low in my body that has no business being there.

Damn Sienna. This is all her fault.

After our disastrous Chicago outing, we decided to stay home yesterday. When Maximo didn’t show up all day, she kept teasing me that he was probably with the blonde siren he’d walked in with at Aldo’s birthday ball.

Apparently, that was all my subconscious needed to give Vittoria and Maximo their happily ever after and have them remove most of their clothes.

I shove the blankets away and sit up. Cold air rushes over my heated skin, but it does little to settle me.

I should be pleased.