64. Chapter Sixty-Four
Chapter Sixty-Four
Mialina
I’ve spent the past ten minutes pushing scrambled eggs around my plate.
After barely sleeping, I came downstairs hoping Mamma might be here, but she’s nowhere to be seen. Neither is Aldo. I’m alone in the breakfast room, nursing my second espresso while everything Mamma told me circles through my head.
Isa is somewhere in this city, held captive by a dangerous billionaire none of us can get to. What are we going to do?
My head snaps up when I hear footsteps in the hallway. I hold my breath, wondering who it is.
Seconds later, Luca enters the room.
I can only stare.
His gaze travels over my face, and something almost like surprise softens his expression.
“Wow,” he says before I can find my voice. “You’re all grown up.”
My fork clatters onto the plate as I shoot to my feet and rush to him. I throw my arms around him before I can think better of it, holding on tightly enough to convince myself he’s real.
“Oh my God, Luca. Mamma told me what happened.”
I step back and take him in. “Look at you. You’re so much… older.”
It’s strange seeing the boy I remember in the face of the man standing in front of me. There’s a hardness in his features now, something in the sharper lines of his face that makes me wonder what he went through during all those years he was gone.
He rolls his eyes, and for one brief moment he’s exactly like the Luca I grew up with.
“And even more handsome than before,” I add quickly, grinning.
“Nice save,” he says, but there’s no smile with it. Exhaustion is etched into his face, and torment shadows his expression.
“It’s been so long.” I hug him again, tighter this time.
“Five years.”
“Don’t I know it.”
I haven’t forgotten what those years did to my sister.
“Isa pined for you for most of them.”
His body goes rigid beneath my arms.
“Where were you all this time?” I ask, needing answers.
He shakes his head. “That’s a story for another day.”
I pull back, my attention dropping to his bare ring finger. “Are you and Isa really married?”
“Yes,” he says. “She can tell you all about it when I bring her home.”
The confidence in his voice should reassure me. Instead, it only reminds me that she isn’t here.
I hold his gaze. “Get her back, Luca.”
“I will.”
His answer leaves no room for doubt, but it still isn’t enough. Nothing will be until Isa is safely with us again.
There’s something else I need to know. I lean closer and lower my voice.
“What happened to Sebastian?”
Luca’s expression turns glacial. “He’s no longer in the picture.”
There’s something in his tone that makes me suspect Sebastian might no longer be anywhere.
“What did you do to him?” I press.
Before Luca can answer, Mamma enters the room. She’s immaculate, her hair styled and her clothes perfectly arranged, but the faint redness around her eyes betrays the tears she shed.
She pours herself a coffee before coming over to kiss my temple and then Luca’s. Her smile trembles at the edges when she looks at him, and I reach for her hand.
Aldo appears in the doorway before any of us can speak.
“The gate just called. Maximo is here,” he says without even a good morning. There’s more tension in his posture than I’ve ever seen.
He turns to me. “Mia, please greet him and bring him to my office.”
As Aldo shifts his attention to Luca, I roll my eyes at being volunteered.
Why me?
We have staff for that. What exactly is he trying to accomplish here?
I nearly argue, but the strain on Aldo’s face and the anxiety in Mamma’s expression stop me.
This isn’t the time to make things more difficult, even if walking willingly toward Maximo is the last thing I want to do.
I bite back my objections and head for the front door.
Maximo came. That has to be a good sign, right?
But how much would Aldo have told him over the phone? Probably very little. Delicate matters like this are usually discussed in person.
God, I’m not prepared to face Maximo again. Not after yesterday.
How do I steel myself against him when just the thought of seeing him sends an unwelcome warmth spreading through my body?
Get it together, Mia.
He only wants to marry me because I have the right blood and he’s deemed me suitable to carry his heirs. That thought, at least, is almost as effective as a bucket of ice water.
With each step toward the front door, I remind myself that I’m angry with Maximo.
I don’t want him.
I’m not affected by him.
And I most certainly haven’t spent half the time I was awake last night remembering the weight of his body over mine or the way he groaned my name in the shower.
I can do this.
All I have to endure is two minutes in his presence while I escort him to Aldo’s office. I can manage that without exploding at him.
Besides, I need him to help Luca. I should try to be nice.
By the time I reach the foyer, my spine is straight and my chin raised. I draw a deep breath, wrap my irritation around me like armor, and open the door.
Maximo has just gotten out of his car and is striding toward the house in a dark suit and overcoat, looking too handsome for his own good. His gaze finds mine immediately, moving over my face with a slow intensity that makes my pulse stumble.
I summon my sweetest smile. “Don Marco. What a delight.”
His eyes narrow at my formal address.
“Mia.”
My name rolls from him in that deep, controlled voice, and the heat I’ve been trying to suppress curls low in my stomach.
“Do come in,” I say sweetly. “We wouldn’t want the Don of Chicago freezing to death on this doorstep.”
Actually, I wouldn’t mind that. It would take care of my Maximo problem rather neatly. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t help Isa.
He enters, passing close enough for the scent of his cologne to reach me, and my body reacts before I can stop it. Memories of his lips on my skin, of me writhing against his hard…
God, Mia, stop now!
I close the door harder than necessary.
“You’re still angry with me,” he observes as he shrugs off his coat and hands it to Simon.
Great observational skills, you manipulative stronzo.
“What gave you that impression?” My smile doesn’t falter, and I silently congratulate myself for maintaining it.
“The excessive politeness.” His gaze settles on my mouth as he steps closer, and I have to force myself not to retreat. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “The fact that you appear to be imagining my death.”
“Don’t flatter yourself. I was imagining something far less dramatic.”
The gleam that enters his eyes makes my heart skip.
“Were you?”
He says it as if he knows exactly what else I might have imagined. My cheeks turn red, which only makes me more irritable.
I turn toward the hallway. “Aldo is waiting for you.”
Maximo comes up beside me instead of following at a respectable distance. Apparently, after everything that happened yesterday, personal space is no longer something he considers necessary.
His presence crowds the corridor, making me acutely aware of every inch between us. I keep my gaze fixed straight ahead.
“You stormed off without saying goodbye yesterday,” he says.
“I assumed discovering you’d been manipulating me was sufficient farewell.”
His jaw tightens, but his voice remains calm. “I did not manipulate you.”
“You withheld information because it suited you.”
“The engagement was not mine to announce.”
“No. You merely sat there knowing that my entire life had changed while I made plans to return home.”
“You are home.”
I stop and turn on him. “Chicago is not my home.”
He doesn’t look away. “You know it will be. One way or another.”
A fresh wave of anger surges through me. He thinks he has only to wait and I’ll eventually surrender to whatever future he has planned.
I won’t.
I resume walking before he can see how much he has unsettled me.
“Try not to declare ownership of anything while you’re in Aldo’s office,” I quip as we reach it. “I know that may be difficult for you.”
His low chuckle sounds right behind me as I knock and open the door.
“Your lord and master, sir,” I announce to Aldo as I enter.
He scowls at me in warning, and I give him an innocent smile, acutely aware of Maximo’s presence at my back.
“I’ll leave you gentlemen to your scheming,” I say with saccharine sweetness.
Then I walk out with as much dignity as I can manage, resisting the urge to look back and see whether Maximo is still watching me.
I’m about to pull the door closed when I think better of it and leave it open just a crack.
Whatever they’re planning, I need to hear it for myself and, more importantly, find out whether Maximo intends to help Luca.
Sitting around waiting for Aldo to emerge and deliver whatever carefully edited version of the conversation he thinks Mamma and I should hear isn’t an option. We deserve to know exactly what’s happening.
A quick glance down the hallway confirms there are no guards stationed inside this morning.
How very convenient.