Page 226 of Claimed At First Sight

We continue toward the rear of the club. Leaving the music behind, we step through a staff-only door.

Polished marble gives way to bare concrete, and the scent of expensive perfume is replaced by diesel, timber, and the cold air drifting in through the loading dock.

A semitrailer sits backed against the warehouse entrance, where several men are already unloading wooden crates stamped with the labels of a respected Italian winery.

Perfectly legitimate. At least on paper.

Gabe hands me the manifest, but after a brief glance I return it to him.

“Let’s have a look.”

The foreman hurries over the moment he spots us. “Mr. Marco.”

I acknowledge him with a nod before my gaze shifts back to our delivery.

“Did everything arrive on schedule?”

“Yes, sir. This is the first shipment from the new Sicilian supplier.”

It’s exactly why I’m here.

A supplier’s first delivery sets the tone. If they understand from the outset that nothing enters Chicago without my approval, they’ll be less inclined to cut corners later.

“The wine can go straight to storage,” I say as I continue toward the rear. “Open up the rest.”

“Of course.”

He reaches beneath the reinforced frame and releases a hidden latch. A section of the interior wall eases forward almost soundlessly, revealing a row of identical matte black cases secured behind the false partition.

I step closer, studying the arrangement for a moment before nodding toward the nearest case. A dockworker crouches beside it and reaches for the locks.

Before the first clasp clicks open, the vibration of my phone breaks the quiet hum of the loading dock.

I slip it from my pocket, my brow furrowing when Aldo’s name appears on the screen. Beside me, Gabe notices the caller ID and frowns.

“Aldo? He never calls this late.”

Neither of us needs to say the rest aloud. Aldo doesn’t interrupt business unless something has gone wrong.

Only one possibility jumps to mind. Gabe catches on too.

“Oh, I wonder what she’s done now. Given it’s Saturday night, she might have sneaked out to explore Chicago’s nightlife.”

Rafa gives a quiet laugh as he folds his arms.

“I can just picture her climbing out a window and somehow slipping past all of Aldo’s security.”

Knowing Mia, neither possibility can be dismissed. She was furious enough to do something impulsive, if only to piss me off.

The phone continues vibrating in my hand. I glance back toward the concealed compartment before handing the inspection over to my brothers.

“Finish checking everything. If there’s a problem, call me.”

“We’ve got it,” Gabe says, amusement still dancing in his face.

I cross the loading dock at a brisk pace, answering as soon as I’m out of earshot.

“Aldo.”