The Mafia Don's Claimed Bride

1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Maximo

It’s almost offensive how utterly normal everything seems.

Sicily carries on like nothing happened, the air warm and scented with citrus and salt even in winter.

The gates slide open and the SUV rolls onto my cousin’s estate, guards lining the drive, their eyes tracking every movement.

I adjust my jacket out of habit as the house comes into view. Aldo, my family’s consigliere, meets my gaze from the seat beside me. Neither of us expected to be here for something like this.

“Maximo, you devil.” Mateo strides toward me as I step out of the car, pulling me into a tight embrace before I’ve even closed the door behind me.

I return his greeting just as firmly. He’s the one to pull back first.

Up close, the strain is obvious. Shadows sit heavy beneath his eyes, his shoulders set with a tension that hasn’t eased in days. Weeks, more likely.

“You look like shit.”

A dry chuckle leaves him. “Thanks. Tell it like it is, will you?”

“You know I always will.”

Aldo steps in beside me, offering his condolences with the quiet respect expected of his position.

“I hate that my visit is under these circumstances,” I say as we move inside together. “When you called, I couldn’t believe it.”

Mateo’s gaze drops. “Yeah, neither could I. Tiero always seemed… invincible.” He pauses. “It still doesn’t feel real.”

I study him for a moment. “How are you holding up?”

It’s not a question I ask lightly. He’s under enormous pressure.

It’s always the same when a Don falls. Enemies start circling, testing the next man to see if he’ll hold. And Mateo has no one left beside him to share the load.

He and Tiero were close. Not unlike I am with my three brothers.

In our world, blood isn’t just loyalty. It’s survival. You don’t realize how much that matters until it’s taken from you.

Back in Chicago, every key position is held within the family. Or it will be soon enough when I take over as Don next Saturday.

It’s been planned for months. Tiero was meant to attend. That’s not happening now, obviously, and Mateo can’t step away until he secures his position here.

This memorial drives home why I need to secure the next generation of my family. I must ensure our line continues uninterrupted.

Mateo's jaw tightens. “I’m doing what needs to be done.”

We’ve all been raised for this. Mateo has always been loyal to a fault, to his family’s legacy and to the men who stand behind it.

“I’m here if you need anything,” I say, holding his gaze. “Rafa, Gabe, and Remo too. Just say the word and we’ll help.”

His gaze meets mine, and he nods. I change the subject before the moment can linger.

“I hear there’s something worth celebrating,” I say, a small grin pulling at my mouth. “Your second told me on the way from the airport.”

For the first time since I arrived, Mateo smiles, his eyes lighting up.

“You got married and didn’t tell me.” I clap him on the shoulder.

“I did,” he says, some of the exhaustion leaving his face. “Mari is amazing.”

God, he’s a fool in love.

“Mateo De Marco, playboy extraordinaire, a married man. Unbelievable,” I tease.

Now that he’s Don, this will strengthen his position in la famiglia. Marriage has its uses.

I’ll need a wife, and soon. Just without the sentiment attached.

Love ruins everything.

I keep that to myself, though. He wouldn’t hear it anyway. He and Tiero always believed in love. Still, it’s good to see that something puts a smile on his face.

“Come on, I want you to meet her.”

We move out onto the terrace, and bright laughter greets us. It seems out of place given the heaviness of the occasion.

I look toward the garden before Mateo even speaks.

Three women are playing badminton on the lawn. They move barefoot across the grass, their dresses catching the breeze as they turn and reach.

“The beauty serving right now is my wife, Mariella,” Mateo says, sounding besotted.

I follow his gaze and take her in properly. She’s beautiful, no surprise there, but there’s also a gentleness in the way she carries herself.

I whistle low. “Damn, Teo. You did well.”

His gaze stays fixed on his wife, and for a moment he looks more husband than Don. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s… unsettling.

My focus shifts to a young woman crossing the lawn in a burst of speed. She reaches the shuttle just in time to send it snapping back across the net.

Every step is precise, as if she already knows where she needs to be before she gets there.

She’s even more striking than Teo’s wife. Tall and long-legged, with dark hair falling loose over one shoulder as she turns. Her skin is flushed with exertion, giving her a rosy glow.

The shuttle comes back fast, and this time she misses it by a fraction. It only seems to make her more determined.

“Enjoy that tiny win while you can,” she throws back, taunting the others.

My gaze lingers on the raven-haired beauty.

“And the other girls?” I ask Mateo.

“The one playing with Mari is Isabella, the oldest Accardi daughter,” he replies. “The other is Mialina, one of her younger sisters.”

Mialina.

I rub my chin. I’ve heard the name before, back in Chicago. It’s unusual enough to have stuck in my mind.

There were whispers a while ago that Antonio Accardi had been pursuing marriage negotiations for his daughters beyond Sicily, reaching even into my territory. I dismissed the rumors as absurd and didn’t pay much attention to them.

Until now.

I look at Mialina again as she pushes her hair back, her eyes focused on the shuttle in her sister’s hand.

Antonio’s side of the family isn’t what interests me. The maternal line is what matters.

The Leonardis are old blood, one of the original families still serving under the De Marcos. That makes them practically Mafia royalty.

I watch Mialina a little more closely.

Beauty is one thing. Bloodline is another. As I prepare to become Don, that kind of pedigree belongs with me.

“How old is Mialina?” I ask, my gaze locked on her.

Mateo turns fully to me, his eyes narrowing. “She just turned nineteen. Why?”

Good. That fits.

Ignoring my cousin’s question, I keep studying Mialina. There’s something about her. The longer I watch, the more I’m drawn in.

“Who’s responsible for the girls since their father’s death?”

“They are under my protection. Again, why do you ask?”

I can feel Mateo’s warning glare, his protective instincts flaring. Still, I don’t look away from her.

“I need a wife,” I say, my tone even.

His jaw tightens, but I don’t stop.

“And she’s marriage material. She understands this life and is young enough to bear me at least half a dozen heirs.”

Mateo chokes out a laugh. “Half a dozen? Jesus, man. We’re talking about a woman here, not breeding cattle.”

I shrug, already considering what it would take to bring her to Chicago. The value of pairing her lineage with mine is indisputable.

“Having many children is practical. It means every key position can stay within the family.”

He stares at me, disbelief written plainly across his face.

“And that’s why my answer is no. Mia deserves more than that. She and her sisters have been through enough. They deserve to be happy.”

There it is again. His belief that contentment in a relationship requires love. I shake my head in disgust.

I don’t need love.

Love is a trap.

“She wouldn’t be unhappy,” I counter. “She’d be well looked after.”

“No,” Mateo repeats, colder now. “Besides, I know your tastes in the bedroom. That alone is reason enough to refuse.”

I chuckle, but the sound is hollow.

“You and Tiero with your hopeless romantic bullshit.” I wave a dismissive hand. “That’s not for me. I don’t need distractions. I need stability, heirs, and a wife who understands her role.”

My gaze settles on Mialina again as she sprints across the grass.

“She was raised for this.”

I nearly said bred, catching myself just in time. Mateo wouldn’t appreciate that.

“Again, that’s why I say no. She’s not a business decision, Max.”

We lapse into silence as the women continue playing. I don’t bother arguing with him.

Mialina is a good choice for my wife. For months, every potential match has blurred into the same polished, forgettable faces. Mialina stands out.

And she’s here, right now. Available.

Mateo will come around. Especially if Mialina herself consents to the match.

I smile to myself. This is an unexpected but welcome development.

This trip just became worthwhile.

My focus is entirely on Mia when a fierce rally breaks out on the lawn. Back and forth they go until the shuttle drops almost out of Mia’s reach. She stretches for it anyway, catching the edge and sending it back over the net with a sharp flick of her wrist.

It’s not enough. Isabella returns it easily, placing it where Mia can’t recover in time.

She skids to a stop, a hint of a pout tugging at her mouth, and my eyes linger there for a beat too long.

“Two against one isn’t fair!” she complains.

“It is when you are the reigning family champion!” Her older sister laughs.

I don’t hesitate. Shrugging off my jacket, I toss it onto a chair without looking away from her. I cross the terrace and step onto the lawn, my pulse picking up uninvited.

Mateo says something behind me, but I don’t catch it.

The grass gives slightly under my shoes as I pick up the spare racket. I turn it once in my hand as I close the distance to the girls.

Mia stills when I get closer, her warm brown eyes assessing me without a hint of deference.

I like it.

She doesn’t shrink or look away. Instead, her chin lifts in a silent dare.

“I can’t have you fighting this battle alone,” I tell her with a wink.

Surprise flickers across her face. “Are you any good?”

I step closer, my shadow falling over her.

“I guess you’ll find out.”