Page 117 of Claimed At First Sight

Mamma studies me, and I shrug. I’m happy for Isa. It took her long enough to move on from Luca.

“What about your younger sisters?” Mamma asks.

At least she’s no longer dismissing the idea outright.

“I’ll look after them. It’s not like they’re infants anymore,” I reassure her.

Guilt pricks at me for having kept Isa’s secret from Mamma.

“You’ve spent years looking after all of us. You’re allowed a few days for yourself.”

Her expression softens. “And you’ll behave?”

I stare at her, offended. “Mamma, I’m very responsible.”

One eyebrow rises.

“Fine,” I admit. “I’m responsible in short bursts. But Ari and Sienna will survive.”

She huffs a laugh. “That’s not quite the reassurance you think it is.”

Still, some of the tension has left her shoulders, and she looks less burdened by worry.

“Fine,” she finally says. “Now, tell me what you know about this man Isa married.”

Chapter Thirty-Four

Maximo

“Anything to report?” I ask the guard patrolling Aldo’s gate.

I’m stopping by to check in on Mia and her sisters on my way back from a meeting in the city. Aldo and Caterina left for Colorado earlier today, and I assured him I’d keep an eye on things while they were gone.

Not that there’s much chance of anything happening security-wise here. The estate is one of the best-protected properties in the city.

It’s really just an excuse to call on Mia and make sure she doesn’t get up to any more mischief. I’m told she promised her mother not to ditch her security again if she and her sisters decide to do more sightseeing.

“This package was dropped off for Miss Accardi,” the guard informs me.

He exchanges a glance with the other guard on duty as he points at a large brown envelope sitting on the desk inside the gatehouse.

“Which Miss Accardi is it for?” I ask, studying the envelope from my periphery.

The guard’s mouth twitches. It’s not enough to qualify as a smile, barely enough to register at all, really. But it still catches my attention. I didn’t become Don by missing details.

“Miss Mialina Accardi,” he says.

My gaze settles fully on him, and he immediately straightens.

I hold out my hand. “Give it to me.”

His expression remains neutral as he picks up the envelope and steps closer to the SUV. He passes it through the window, his hand shaking slightly as he releases it.

It’s large and flat, and oddly there’s no address, no company logo, no return details. Only Mia’s name.

I tamp down a surge of irritation. Mia has only been in Chicago for a few days. She shouldn’t know enough people here to be receiving mysterious packages.

So who is this from?