49. Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Forty-Nine
Maximo
Cormac Donnelly and his sons are fortunate they walked away when they did.
Outwardly, I gave them nothing. No threat they could repeat to their allies. Not even the satisfaction of seeing how close Shay came to testing my control.
Inside me, fury still burns cold and steady.
Cormac can believe that agreement survived Antonio Accardi all he likes. It changes nothing.
And Shay… the way he looked at Mia makes me clench my jaw again.
The moment I chose Mialina Accardi, every other man lost the right to consider her.
She is mine.
Mia sits across from me, her empty wineglass still held loosely between her fingers. She appears composed again, but I saw the way she gripped the chair.
I also noticed how carefully she controlled her breathing while they stood too close to her for my liking, assessing her as though she were something they might acquire.
I’m surprised she stayed as calm as she did. Even more that she let me handle them.
She challenged me afterward, naturally. Mia would argue with God himself if she thought he was being unreasonable. Yet when I asked whether she truly minded me staking my claim, she admitted she hadn’t.
It is not surrender. But it is progress.
The Romeros reminded her why she can’t move through Chicago without security. The Donnellys showed her what Antonio’s plans could mean if another family decided to enforce them. Neither encounter was welcome, but both may ultimately have served me.
Mia now understands that my protection is the reason men like Shay Donnelly are forced to keep their distance. Whether she approves of my methods remains debatable. That she felt safer because of them does not.
Beyond the large windows, snow sweeps through the city in thick white sheets. Mia glances outside before rising from her chair. The easy playfulness she wore throughout most of dinner has quieted, replaced by thoughtful silence.
Tonight has given her a great deal to think about.
I rest a hand against the small of Mia’s back and guide her toward the exit. The restaurant has all but emptied. Only a handful of diners linger over coffee and dessert, probably residents of this tower.
Daniel is already waiting near the entrance with our coats by the time we reach him. We won’t need them to go upstairs, so I gesture for one of my men to take them.
“Good night, Mr. Marco.”
I incline my head. “Daniel, make sure none of the staff attempt to drive home tonight.”
His brows draw together. “Sir?”
“Open the service apartments. Anyone who can’t get home safely is to stay there.”
The weather is bad enough without people gambling their lives on icy roads.
“Thank you, sir. I’ll let everyone know.”
We exit the restaurant through the lobby. Mia is looking at me. There’s unmistakable surprise in her expression, followed by something quieter. Approval.
The warmth it stirs is unexpected. It’s a dangerous thing, discovering I want it.
Together we make our way toward the private elevator, where Leon is already waiting beside the secured entrance.
“Sir, the penthouse has been swept. Additional personnel are in position,” he informs me while scanning his credentials against a discreet reader concealed beside the elevator doors. The lock disengages with a soft click.
Mia watches the process with open curiosity before glancing at the two guards stationed nearby.
“This seems excessive.”
The doors part, and Leon steps inside first, conducting a swift security sweep before motioning us in.
“It isn’t,” I say, ushering her inside. “Excessive would involve shutting down the entire building until I left again.”
She rewards me with an exaggerated eye roll, probably number three: theatrical exasperation.
The rest of my security detail follows us in, positioning themselves between us and the doors. Silence settles over the cabin as we begin the ascent, broken only by the quiet hum of the machinery.
“Weather Command is now forecasting another six to eight inches before dawn, with increasing wind speeds,” Leon reports.
“Any concerns regarding the tower?”
“None.” As expected.
“The generators have been tested, all backup systems are operational, and additional staff remain on site. State police are advising against nonessential travel throughout most of the city.”
Truth be told, being stranded here suits me just fine. More time alone with Mia can only work in my favor.
The kiss on the Ferris wheel hasn’t left my mind. Neither has the way she softened beneath my mouth before remembering she was supposed to resist me.
Maintaining my restraint tonight may prove hard. In every sense of the word.
The elevator finally begins to slow before coming to a smooth stop. A soft chime sounds, and the doors open onto the private foyer leading to my penthouse.
My men step out first, with Leon close behind. They sweep the vestibule, then fan out through the penthouse for another check.
A few minutes later, they return and give us the all-clear.
“We’ll be in the security suite if you need anything, sir,” Leon says, before departing through a side door with his men.
For the first time today, Mia and I are genuinely alone. She seems to realize it too, her posture stiffening.
She releases a measured breath, as though steadying herself, then slowly takes in the foyer and the apartment beyond.
“Come on.” I guide Mia forward with a light touch at her waist. “Since the storm has altered our plans, would you like the tour I intended to give you another day?”
She looks back at me, arching one eyebrow.
“Do all your stranded dinner guests get the grand tour?”
The corner of my mouth lifts.
“Only the ones I intend to marry.”
For a heartbeat, she simply stares at me before muttering something under her breath that sounds suspiciously like, “Delusional as ever.”
I pretend not to hear it.
Time will prove otherwise. I don’t argue with inevitability.
Mia steps into the apartment and pauses, her eyes traveling slowly across the room.
I’ve lived here long enough that I rarely notice the soaring ceilings, the walls of glass framing the city, the warm oak floors leading to the grand fireplace, or the artwork and books collected over the years. Somewhere along the way, it simply became home.
Tonight, though, I find myself looking at it through Mia’s eyes, wondering what she’ll notice first.
She moves ahead at an unhurried pace, taking in one detail after another. Her fingertips trail lightly over the back of one of the sofas before she pauses beside the fireplace, studying the flames.
“This isn’t what I expected.”
“No?”
She shakes her head.
“I thought there’d be… more marble.”
A quiet chuckle escapes me.
“Everyone does.”
She smiles to herself before continuing farther into the room.
It isn’t the artwork or the furniture that eventually captures her attention. It’s the windows.
Floor-to-ceiling glass stretches across the entire western side of the penthouse, offering an uninterrupted view of the storm.
She walks toward it almost absently, staring out into the mayhem. Then her attention shifts downward.
“We’re…” she pauses. “We’re really quite high up.”
Her shoulders have lost their easy looseness, and although she hasn’t taken a single step back from the glass, every muscle in her body appears just a little too still.
She hadn’t seemed bothered by the Ferris wheel. Then again, this is considerably higher.
“Are you afraid of heights?”
She continues staring through the glass for another few seconds before answering.
“I didn’t think I was.” She lets out a small, shaky breath. “But I’ve never been in a building this high.”
Before I can reply, a powerful gust slams into the tower. The sway is slight, little more than the familiar movement engineered into the building, but beside me Mia goes rigid.
Her head snaps toward me, her eyes searching my face as though to confirm she hadn’t imagined it. The color in her cheeks fades a shade.
“Did the building just move?”
She asks the question carefully, almost hopefully, as though she’d prefer me to tell her she’d made the whole thing up.
“It did.”
Her stare lingers on me for a beat.
“You say that far too casually.”
“It’s designed to do that.”
She closes her eyes for a moment. “I hate that sentence.”
“Mia, it’s perfectly safe.”
“That wasn’t the part I objected to.” She looks back toward the windows before adding, “Why would anyone build a skyscraper that’s supposed to move?”
“Because allowing it to sway a little prevents structural damage.”
She blinks.
“That explanation somehow made it worse.”
Her gaze drifts back to the wall of glass just as another gust buffets the tower. The movement is no greater than before, but this time Mia seems to feel it more.
Her hand shoots to my forearm, gripping it with surprising strength.
“I don’t like this.”
The words leave her in a rush before she realizes what she’s done. Her fingers immediately loosen, and she takes a small step back.
“Sorry.”
My eyes drop briefly to the place where she’d been holding on to me.
“Don’t apologize.”
Before I’ve consciously decided to do it, my arm settles around her shoulders, drawing her a little closer.
I expect her to pull away. Instead, she remains still for a moment before the rigid tension begins to leave her body and her weight settles cautiously against me.
Outside, the storm continues to intensify. Visibility has shrunk to almost nothing, entire buildings swallowed behind a wall of swirling white. Only scattered lights remain, flickering through the blizzard like distant stars.
Something dark suddenly tumbles through the air. A split second later, what looks like a broken branch strikes the glass with a sharp crack.
Mia startles. “Maximo.”
I’ve never heard my name sound like that on her lips. The usual fire is gone, replaced by a vulnerability she’s trying hard to hide.
“That was a tree.” She looks up at me, her eyes searching mine.
“Not quite. Only a small part of one.”
She doesn’t look any more reassured.
I’d better not tell her that there are quite a few trees on the terrace that might become flying objects.
A second piece of debris skitters across the glass before disappearing into the snow, and Mia flinches.
“The windows are fine,” I tell her.
She spins around to face me. “How do you know?”
“They were designed to withstand conditions far worse. This building was engineered with storms in mind.”
Mia turns back to the windows. “So we’re safe?”
I settle my hands on her shoulders. “Yes, we are.”
She exhales slowly, though I can tell it hasn’t entirely convinced her.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this out of my depth before.”
Her voice is quiet enough that I almost miss it.
I glance at her. “You’re doing well.”
She lets out a humorless huff. “I nearly had a heart attack when the building moved.”
“Yet you’re still standing here. You’re okay.”
I draw her against me and press a kiss to the top of her head.
She looks back at the storm. “I don’t want fear dictating my decisions.”
Most people retreat the moment something makes them uncomfortable. Mia doesn’t. Even scared, she’s still standing at the window. I understand that instinct. More than that, I admire it.
Mia shivers against me. Only then do I realize how cold she is. I take her hand. Her fingers are freezing.
“We don’t have to stay here,” I say quietly. “There are empty service apartments on the lower floors. We can stay there tonight if you’d like.”