8. Chapter Eight
Chapter Eight
Maximo
Mialina disappears into the house so fast I almost laugh.
I stay where I am on the bench, watching the spot where she vanished between the stone archways, a smile tugging at my mouth.
Another man might take offense at her abrupt escape, but I don’t. If anything, her retreat tells me exactly what I wanted to know.
Mialina Accardi isn’t nearly as unaffected by me as she wants me to believe. For all the arguing she does, she didn’t argue with my mouth.
She was hesitant for all of a few seconds. Then she yielded, clutching my shirt and trying unsuccessfully to hold in those soft little sounds.
By the end, she was kissing me back with enough hunger to make my blood run hot and turn my cock to steel.
Soon enough, I’ll teach her what pleases me. I have a feeling she’ll learn quickly.
The image of her in my lap comes back to me. Flushed cheeks. Swollen lips. Those furious dark eyes glazed with desire.
It bodes well for our marriage. Getting her pregnant over and over again won’t be a chore.
She can keep fighting me for now. After that kiss, I’m not worried about where this is heading.
When my cock is finally under control, I stand and adjust my jacket. I need to speak with Mateo. I’m sure Mia told him what I revealed to her last night. The Irish contract is unfinished business, and I intend to get to the bottom of it.
I move toward the house. On the terrace, I spot Aldo and Caterina Accardi at a small breakfast table.
I noticed the two of them talking for a while last night. Looks like my consigliere has taken a shine to Mialina’s mother. I can see why. Caterina is a beautiful woman.
He seems lighter around her. I even catch him smiling, something he’s done very little of since his wife died.
As I walk past toward the door, I hear Caterina laugh softly at something Aldo says. Her laugh is easy and genuine, nothing like the practiced flirting I have to endure from women hoping to marry a man with my name and position.
I can’t imagine Mialina laughing just to make a man feel good about himself. She’d roll her eyes at such attempts.
I head inside and find Mateo in his study. The door is partially open when I arrive.
Mariella stands near the desk while Mateo sits behind it, his attention fixed entirely on his wife.
Whatever they’re discussing is serious, but neither of them looks upset. Mariella’s expression is thoughtful, almost relieved, while Mateo looks softer than usual.
Mariella glances toward the doorway first, noticing me.
“I’ll let you two talk,” she says, smiling at Mateo before crossing the room to leave.
Mateo’s expression hardens the second his wife disappears from the room.
“Maximo,” he says. “You spoke to Mialina.”
Straight to the point.
I step into the room and close the door behind me. “I did.”
Mateo leans back in his chair. “You had no right.”
His voice is deadly calm. Mine is too.
“Rights are for men who wait for permission, Mateo. I don’t.” I hold his gaze evenly. “She deserved to know.”
“Yes, she does.” His voice sharpens. “But it was for me to break the news. You should have brought that information to me. You know how this works. I don’t need to tell you that.”
He’s right, of course. I know the protocol… and decided against it.
“What happens with Mari’s sisters is my responsibility, not yours. I made that clear when you arrived.”
Mateo is pissed. I’d be too if our positions were reversed, but that doesn’t mean I regret it.
“I uncovered that information yesterday morning and intended to speak with you after the memorial. I’m here now.”
Mateo’s jaw flexes, anger flashing through his eyes.
“You blindsided a young woman with potentially life-altering information she’s not equipped to handle.”
He still thinks Mia needs protecting from every hard truth. I don’t. She’s tougher than he gives her credit for. She’ll need to be. My wife won’t have the luxury of being fragile. Not if she’s going to stand beside me, run my household, and raise my children.
Mateo plants both palms on the desk.
“You only told her to advance your own agenda.”
A fair point. Still, I’d do it all over again.
“I welcomed you into my home,” Mateo says quietly. “Trusted you around my family. Don’t make me regret that.”
His eyes bore into me. “I told you Mia is off-limits. Stay away from her.”
The order hangs between us. I almost smile.
I move toward the chair opposite his desk and sit down calmly, adjusting my cufflinks.
“That’s going to be difficult,” I say, my voice just as firm as my cousin’s. “Considering I intend to marry her.”
Mateo stares at me incredulously, shaking his head. “No, you won’t.”
“It’s the solution to this problem,” I say, keeping my tone factual.
“If the Irish come to collect on Antonio’s agreement, marrying me nullifies the contract immediately.
I’m not just offering her protection, Mateo.
I’m offering them a reason to back down without losing face.
No Irish family is going to challenge my family over a dead man’s arrangement. ”
Mateo’s stare doesn’t waver. His jaw ticks. He knows I’m right.
“That only works if Mia agrees to marry you. Have you asked her?”
For a moment, the room goes quiet.
“She’ll say yes.”
“So her answer was no. That’s what I expected.”
His blunt assessment irritates me, though I don’t let it show.
“I’ll handle the Irish situation if it resurfaces,” Mateo continues. “With Antonio gone, it likely never will.”
Whether the Irish contract survives Antonio or not changes nothing. Mialina Accardi will agree to marry me of her own accord. I’ll ensure she realizes it is the only logical path forward.
“How did you even hear about this?” Mateo asks, some of the anger giving way to scrutiny.
“Rumors reached me a few months ago. At first, it sounded like typical speculation, and frankly, unlikely. Why would Antonio seek allies in the Irish when your family has nothing to do with them?”
I brace an ankle over the opposite knee and settle back.
“I looked into it briefly, but found nothing to substantiate it, so I let it go.”
Mateo stays silent, though at the mention of Antonio, his expression darkens.
“But after I arrived here and met Mia, I revisited it.” I rest an elbow on the chair arm, watching him. “Especially when I remembered Antonio was in Chicago with Tiero two months ago.”
His eyes narrow. That was when Tiero was still hunting for Ella.
“And?”
“My source within the Irish camp confirmed that he met privately with Cormac Donnelly. He’s the head of the Blackthorn Syndicate.” My gaze locks onto Mateo’s. “That’s almost certainly when the contract was signed.”
A muscle jumps in Mateo’s jaw.
“Remo hacked into one of their systems yesterday morning,” I continue. “He found copies of the agreement. Digital footprints are harder to burn than paper, Teo.”
My little brother is becoming more useful by the day. Give him a few more years and he’ll be running every digital operation we have.
“Who is she meant to marry? Cormac has a wife, doesn’t he?”
Mateo picks up a pen, rolling it once between his fingers before setting it down again.
“Yes, he has. Mialina is promised to Shay Donnelly, the Blackthorn heir.”
Mateo nods and rises from his chair.
“I’ll look into this further,” he says. “But this no longer concerns you.”
He genuinely thinks that settles it. I don’t think so.
“It concerns me because it happened on my turf,” I reply evenly.
Mateo’s expression changes. I’m no longer looking at my cousin. I’m looking at the Don.
“No,” he says flatly. “It’s because you want Mialina.”
I don’t bother denying it. Why would I?
His wedding ring taps against the desk as his fingers curl against the edge.
“Stay away from her, Max. I mean it.”
I’ve already ignored that warning once. I’ll ignore it again.
I stand to leave, my thoughts returning to Mialina on that bench. The way she kissed me back before she remembered she was supposed to be resisting me and ran.
Mateo can issue all the warnings he wants.
It’s already too late.