Page 71 of Claimed At First Sight

Mia nods. “Didn’t you know? Don Maximo becomes remarkably focused when the subject arises. It’s all very strategic.”

I fix her with a hard look. She just lifts her glass to her lips and takes a slow sip while holding my gaze over the rim.

Little menace.

Beside her, Gabe presses his lips together to stop a laugh.

Vittoria smiles, encouraged. “Well, that seems sensible for a don.”

“Mmm,” Mia hums. “I’m sure Chicago’s women sleep better knowing they’re being evaluated so carefully.”

I finally let myself smile. Not because the comment itself is outrageous, but because she delivered it so perfectly. Refined enough to remain socially acceptable, and sharp enough that everyone standing here understands exactly what she meant.

Gabe coughs into his drink. The bastard catches my eye and gives me a look that screams, Good luck handling this girl.

I lift my glass in response.

Mia turns back to Vittoria. “You know, in Sicily, men this interested in bloodlines usually breed cattle.”

Gabe makes a strangled choking sound. I focus on Mia. She meets my gaze with total composure, though amusement dances across her face.

Any other woman behaving this way would irritate me. Mia only makes me wonder how else I could use that smart mouth.

Vittoria laughs a touch too late. “I’m sure Don Maximo’s interests are more sophisticated than livestock.”

“One would hope,” Mia agrees.

God, I’ve never wanted a woman more.

“I assure you,” I say calmly, still holding Mia’s gaze, “my interests are very refined.”

Her brows lift. “That sounds ominous.”

Gabe mutters something into his drink I don’t quite catch, while Vittoria attempts to recover control of the conversation.

Never one to give up, she says, “Well, I think it’s admirable when a man values family legacy.”

Her attention settles fully on me, as though she’s trying to show me she understands exactly what a don requires in a wife.

Beside her, Mia looks entirely unimpressed. Or pretending to be.

She wants me to believe she has no interest in the role waiting for her by my side. It’s an act. She was raised for this world just as much as I was.

“Some women are better suited to carrying a legacy forward with than others,” I say, directing the words at Mia.

She stills. Good, she heard the implication.

Vittoria’s breath hitches. I think it’s finally sinking in that she really isn’t my chosen bride.

Turning toward her, I say, “I’d like a moment alone with Mialina. Please enjoy the party.”

Vittoria’s composure slips, her gaze flicking toward Mia with unmistakable hostility before she smooths her expression.

“Of course,” she says gracefully, though the edges of her smile tighten.

Beside me, Mia says, “No, you don’t want a moment with me.”

Gabe’s brows shoot up at Mia’s directness. I turn my head toward her. She smiles far too brightly.