Page 64 of Claimed At First Sight

Amusement flickers in her eyes.

“How do you feel about Maximo pursuing me?” I ask.

Mamma has never been one of those women obsessed with marrying her daughters to the most powerful man available, but we’ve never discussed it outright.

She’d been relieved when Mateo promised he wouldn’t use our Leonardi blood to negotiate advantageous alliances. But that was before the Irish marriage contract disaster.

That possibility doesn’t seem nearly as distant now as it used to.

It turns out the contract is legitimate. Thankfully, nobody has shown up demanding it be honored.

When Mateo investigated it, he uncovered an entire spreadsheet Father had compiled, color-coded by daughter and ranked according to the most desirable political matches.

Seeing it laid out like that made me sick. Father spent years secretly planning our futures like strategic business acquisitions. Even now, it’s difficult to comprehend the full depth of his ambition.

My gaze meets Mamma’s again. She’s gone quiet, contemplating my question.

“I won’t lie to you, Mia. A man like Maximo Marco tends to get what he sets his mind on.”

I don’t want to hear this from her.

“But,” she continues, picking up my dress and bringing it over to me, “you are also very much your father’s daughter.”

I grimace. “That’s hardly a compliment.”

“In this case it is. Once he decided something, nothing could sway him. You’re just as stubborn,” she says, her voice full of warmth and affection. “Possibly more so. Which means my bets are not necessarily on Maximo.”

Now that makes me smile.

“What I want for you and your sisters is the freedom to choose your own husbands. I want you to be happy.” Her tone grows more serious. “That’s all that matters to me.”

All I want is to be happy too. And I won’t let an overbearing Chicago tyrant get in the way of that.

“So if Don Maximo came to me asking for your hand,” Mamma continues, “and you did not want that marriage, I would not give my consent.”

I stare at her reflection in the mirror.

“You mean that?”

“Completely.” There’s no hesitation. “I will always support your choice.”

My eyes sting, and I blink quickly.

“Well,” I say, clearing my throat as I stand from the vanity, “that’s unfortunate news for Maximo then.”

I drop the robe I’m wearing and let Mamma help me into the dress. She zips it up and steps back to look at me.

“You’re stunning, tesoro,” she says, cupping my cheeks. “Now let’s go and remind Don Maximo who he’s dealing with.”

“I intend to.” I grin at her.

“Maximo Marco won’t get the better of me.”

Chapter Twenty

Mialina

The drive to Maximo’s estate lasts all of five minutes.