Page 156 of Claimed At First Sight

All of it is his to protect, and from the way he watches the skyline, I suspect he has never once questioned that it was his duty.

He grew up knowing who he was expected to become. Just like me, he had his entire future mapped out before he was old enough to understand it.

But unlike me, Maximo embraced what was chosen for him and accepted it so completely that it’s become part of who he is.

“What would you have done if you’d had a choice?” I ask, leaning forward.

A slight crease appears between his brows. “What do you mean?”

“If you hadn’t been born into this life, and nobody had expected you to become Don.” I gesture toward the city below. “If you could wake up tomorrow and be anyone, do anything, what would you choose?”

The gondola sways as a strong gust of wind catches it. Silence stretches as he considers the question with far more seriousness than I’d expected.

Finally, he shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

I stare at him. “Really?”

A faint smile touches his mouth. “It’s the truth.”

The surprise must show on my face because he adds, “I’ve never considered any other possibility.”

I believe him.

“What would have been the point?” he adds quietly. “Wishing for a different life wouldn’t have changed the one I was born into. It would only have distracted me from preparing for it.”

I let that settle for a moment as I look back over the city.

It’s such a different way of seeing the world from my own that I’m not sure how to respond.

I’ve spent years imagining different futures, even if none of them had seemed attainable while Father was alive. They’d remained little more than daydreams, something to indulge in before reality inevitably came crashing back.

Now they seem within reach.

Isa has chosen her own path, and I’m more determined than ever to follow in her footsteps.

As the wheel begins its slow descent, my attention wanders to a gondola that’s just reached the top.

A young family fills the small compartment. The little boy, perhaps four years old, has climbed onto the seat and presses both hands against the glass, his face glowing with excitement as he points toward the snow-covered city below. His younger sister scrambles up beside him, determined not to miss whatever has captured her brother’s attention, while their parents watch with quiet amusement.

“Why six?” I ask, glancing at Maximo before looking back at the family.

He follows my line of sight, stretching out his arms on top of the backrest.

“Your parents only had four, and that seems to have worked out.”

“They did,” he agrees. “But my father also buried two children before I was born.”

That catches me off guard. “I didn’t know.”

“Most people don’t.” His voice remains even, but there’s something quieter beneath it.

“In our world, nothing is guaranteed. Illness. Violence. Accidents.” He shrugs one shoulder. “You hope every child reaches adulthood, but you don’t build your family’s future assuming they all will.”

I open my mouth to argue, then close it again. As grim as it sounds, I can’t really fault the logic.

“So six is… contingency planning?”

A corner of his mouth lifts. “If you want to call it that.”