26. Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Six
Maximo
“How are things going with Caterina?” I ask Aldo once he closes the folder between us.
We’ve spent the last hour reviewing freight operations, expansion opportunities, and several investment structures tied to one of our newer ventures, but the faint smile lingering around his mouth has been distracting me the entire meeting.
“Better than I could have hoped,” he answers, and there’s that smile again. Softer than I’ve ever seen on him.
A serious relationship between Aldo and Caterina changes things. Not that I require Caterina’s presence to secure Mia. But keeping her family close would make the transition smoother, and I prefer removing obstacles before they become inconveniences.
“Why don’t you take her up to the Marco cabin in Telluride for a few days?” I suggest, leaning back in my chair.
Cabin is a modest term for the estate perched high in the Rocky Mountains. Floor-to-ceiling glass overlooks snow-covered peaks and endless pine forests, the property isolated enough that the rest of the world simply disappears.
An ideal place to take a woman if you want some privacy.
My mind supplies the image of Mia there, curled beside the enormous stone fireplace, wrapped in one of my shirts. Snow falling beyond the windows while I spend several uninterrupted days thoroughly working on the next generation of the Marco bloodline.
The thought makes my cock stir approvingly.
Aldo’s brows lift.
“You’d have time alone,” I continue. “Space to get to know each other without three daughters and security surrounding you.”
He nods. “I have considered a few days away, and Telluride is beautiful this time of year. But it’s difficult for Caterina to leave the girls.”
“Mia can supervise her sisters. I doubt she’d mind.”
“If anything, she’d welcome the opportunity for more freedom,” Aldo says dryly.
Hmm, I hadn’t thought of that. I don’t like the idea of Mia unleashed in my city. I wouldn’t want her running too wild.
“I can keep an eye on them.”
Understandably, that earns me a look. I’d never normally offer something like this.
Aldo studies me with the kind of caution that means he’s debating whether to speak freely or not.
“What are your intentions with Mialina?” he asks eventually.
His tone remains respectful, but there’s something protective underneath it. Oddly enough, I appreciate it. The fact that he cares for Caterina’s daughters tells me his attachment is genuine.
“To marry her. Surely that can’t come as a surprise to you. My interest in her has been obvious since Sicily.”
We’ve never discussed it. Unlike my father, Aldo hasn’t once raised the subject of securing the Marco reign over Chicago through marriage, even though the strategic advantages must have crossed his mind.
I assumed he expected my interest to fade once we returned home. Now, watching the careful way he chooses his words, I wonder whether Caterina’s reservations play a larger role than I realized.
“It has,” he replies.
He’s aware of the flower deliveries and the returned gifts. And the glasshouse construction on the estate was impossible to miss.
Aldo folds his hands together on the desk. “Forgive me if I overstep, but speaking strictly as your consigliere… are you certain Mialina is the right choice?”
I say nothing. He takes that as permission to continue.
“She’s nineteen, Maximo. She isn’t thinking about marriage yet. Or children.”
“That’s irrelevant.” My voice remains calm. “The Leonardi bloodline aligns perfectly with ours politically, strategically, and socially. And her age is an advantage if I intend to have multiple heirs.”
Aldo exhales slowly. “I just wonder whether someone like Vittoria Bellandi would be better suited to the role.”
The suggestion irritates me instantly.
“She’s already established within Chicago society,” he continues. “And she doesn’t have Mia’s…” He considers how to word it. “…rebellious streak.”
“Vittoria is a social climber.”
Aldo blinks once. “Her father is. He’s been pushing for this match for years.”
“Exactly.” Giulio Bellandi has spent the better part of a decade positioning his daughter in my orbit.
It never mattered. I’ve never given Vittoria encouragement, nor any indication I considered her a serious option.
A faint crease appears between Aldo’s brows.
“Mia is—” he tries again.
“Not up for discussion,” I cut in, leveling him with a cold stare. “Do not question my choices again, Aldo.”
To his credit, my consigliere doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds my gaze for another long moment before giving a slow nod.
“Understood.”
Good, because this conversation was never about whether Mia will become mine. Only how soon.
I lean back in my chair, mentally moving on to the remainder of my afternoon.
With our meeting finished, Aldo reaches for his phone just as it begins vibrating across the desk. He glances at the display and frowns before answering.
“What is it?”
He listens for several seconds. Then his entire expression hardens.
“What do you mean you lost her?”
That gets my attention.
“Are you all complete novices?” he snaps, rising from his chair.
He paces a few steps away from the desk, voice turning colder with every passing second.
“How does a nineteen-year-old girl manage to lose trained security?”
I raise an eyebrow at that.
“Find her,” Aldo orders before ending the call.
Turning to me, he says, “They lost Mia.”
“What?”
“She was meeting a friend at a café and somehow managed to ditch her guards.”
A muscle ticks in my jaw. Did I hear him correctly?
“Mialina Accardi has been in Chicago less than twenty-four hours,” I say. “When exactly did she find the time to make a friend?”
“Last night, apparently.” Aldo exhales. “At the birthday celebration.”
Efficient little thing.
“And you allowed her to go out with minimal supervision?”
“She’s not my daughter to command,” Aldo replies. “Caterina was comfortable with it. Besides, Mialina isn’t a child anymore.”
No, she most certainly isn’t. She gets my blood boiling on a near-constant basis, though at this particular moment not from arousal.
“There’s still a marriage contract with the Irish carrying her name,” I remind him. “They might already know she’s in Chicago, and now she’s out there somewhere in this city unprotected.”
My voice rises on the last few words. I normally exercise better control than this.
I draw in a slow breath and force my irritation back. Aldo goes still. Good, he understands the severity of this situation.
I stand and walk toward the windows overlooking the estate grounds. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call Rafa.
“What’s up?”
“Mia is missing.”
“Missing how?” my brother asks.
“Does it matter?”
“There’s a significant difference between being kidnapped and wandering around downtown lost.”
I sit back down behind my desk, imagining Mia somewhere out there entirely too pleased with herself.
“She ditched her security.”
Silence.
Then Rafa laughs. “Seriously?”
I close my eyes.
“She’s going to be fun to keep in line,” he says, amused.
Across the office, Aldo lifts a brow as though this entire situation is proving his earlier point.
“Just find her,” I say, my patience thinning. “Track her phone.”
“Give me a second.”
Muffled voices and typing carry through the line.
“My guys are on it. How did she escape?”
Good question. I’d like that answer myself so she can’t make this a habit. I look at Aldo, who’s heard the question through the speaker.
“She climbed through the café’s bathroom window,” he says dryly. “Then got onto the back of a motorcycle her friend was riding.”
I stare at him.
A motorcycle. You’ve got to be kidding me.
My jaw tightens at the thought of Mia on the back of that bike. One bad turn or careless driver, and she could be thrown straight onto the road.
I run my hand through my hair. Part of me wants to put her over my knee for being so reckless. And maybe I will.
Across the line, Rafa lets out a low whistle that sounds a little impressed.
“You’re going to have your hands full with that one,” he mutters.
After a beat, he adds, “Her phone is turned off.”
My teeth grind together. She planned this.
Beside me, Aldo says nothing, but I know what he’s thinking. Mia is far too impulsive and unpredictable to be my bride.
He sees complications. I see a woman who simply hasn’t learned yet that there are consequences for defying me.
Once she’s my wife, I’ll shape that rebellious streak into something far more useful. She has good instincts and a sharp mind. If she learns to work with me instead of against me, she could be formidable.
God, that woman needs to agree to marry me already.