Page 70 of Claimed At First Sight

“Maximo, aren’t you going to introduce us?” she asks, sliding up beside me and touching my arm as if it’s natural for her to do. It isn’t. She’s clearly choosing to ignore what I told her at my succession ceremony.

Mia blinks once, as though suddenly remembering other people exist. Then she spots Vittoria’s hand still resting on my arm, and her eyes narrow.

Her assessing gaze travels over Vittoria before returning to me, one sculpted brow lifting as if saying, Yes, Don Maximo. Where are your manners?

The challenge in it makes me smile. So that’s the game tonight.

“Vittoria,” I say, “this is Mialina Accardi.”

Then I gesture to the woman beside me. “Mia, this is Vittoria Bellandi.”

Mia extends her hand with effortless elegance. Vittoria takes it, though the smile she offers is just a touch too polished to be genuine.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Mia says smoothly.

A lie. A graceful one, but still a lie.

Gabe shifts beside her, already entertained.

“You’ll be seeing quite a lot of Mialina,” I add, letting the implication hang in the air.

Vittoria’s attention sharpens. Mia’s smile does too.

“I doubt that,” she says, her tone sweet enough to coat poison. “Don Maximo is overly optimistic. I’m only visiting Chicago. I’ll be returning to Sicily in a few weeks.”

The statement is aimed at Vittoria. The lethal glance accompanying it is directed at me.

Cute. She truly seems to believe her stay here is temporary, and that she’ll return to Sicily. As if I would ever let her go now that she’s in my city.

“Oh?” Vittoria’s voice carries a tighter edge now. “You’re from Sicily.”

She finally remembers me mentioning that I’d chosen a wife after returning from Gualtiero’s memorial there.

Vittoria’s gaze flicks over Mia again, lingering this time on the expensive silk of Mia’s gown, the jewels at her throat, and the unmistakable confidence in her posture.

Good. Let her understand who she’s standing beside.

“Yes, I am.” Mia takes a slow sip of her juice. “Chicago seems fascinated by Sicily lately.”

I lift my whiskey to my mouth, partly to hide a smile.

The practiced softness disappears from Vittoria’s expression now that she suspects who Mia is to me.

“Well, it’s where most of our families originated from. And heritage matters in our world.”

“True,” Mia agrees easily, and Gabe becomes alert beside her.

Vittoria straightens, adjusting the diamond bracelet on her wrist.

“Fortunately for me,” she continues, “the Bellandis happen to be one of the oldest, most established bloodlines in Chicago.”

Mia’s lashes lower, though not before I catch the laughter in her eyes.

Vittoria doesn’t know that compared to the Leonardi blood running through Mia’s veins, every family in this room pales.

“How fortunate indeed,” she says with flawless politeness. “Especially since Don Maximo values bloodlines even more than most men.”

Vittoria’s face lights up, her attention swinging back to me. “Oh?”