Page 16 of Claimed At First Sight

“Can you blame him? This dress is doing me a lot of favors,” I deflect.

Isa chuckles at my response, lifting her champagne flute and taking a small sip. Leaning in, she lowers her voice.

“Maximo isn’t the only Chicago mobster eyeing an Accardi.”

I blink, my brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

She tips her glass subtly toward the bar.

“Aldo Marino has been hovering near Mamma all night. And she’s definitely not brushing him off.”

My eyes drift in that direction. Sure enough, the Chicago consigliere is leaning toward our mother, and Mamma is smiling up at him in a way I haven’t seen in years. Her posture is relaxed and her expression open.

This isn’t the practiced mask she wore for Father. It’s the look of a woman who actually enjoys the air she’s breathing.

How did I not notice that? I’m usually the observant one.

“She’s been laughing a lot,” Isa murmurs. “I’m telling you, Mia, she’s into him.”

“Well, good for her,” I say, smiling. “She deserves a bit of positive male attention after being married to Antonio Accardi.”

How she once fell in love with him is beyond me. But then again, Father could be charming when he wanted to be.

I study Mamma and Aldo for a moment. There’s an ease between them that’s surprising, considering they’ve only known each other for a day.

“Do you think he’s serious?” I ask.

“What? No, they only just met,” Isa exclaims. “And Aldo and Maximo leave the day after tomorrow. But honestly, I hope she’ll have wild sex and make some juicy memories.”

I snort into my glass, the champagne nearly coming out of my nose. The image is jarring, but strangely welcome.

“God, can you imagine? That would be… weirdly amazing.”

“Right? She deserves something just for her. For once.”

My gaze drifts across the room again, taking in the glittering crowd, the controlled smiles, the quiet negotiations happening beneath polite conversation.

“Speaking of male attention… it’s kind of strange, don’t you think?”

“What is?” Isa asks.

“With Father gone, men are actually allowed to talk to us. And they do.”

Annoyingly so.

“Hardly surprising,” Isa mutters.

I watch her shift her glass from one hand to the other, her jaw tightening a fraction.

“Now that we’re connected to the Don, we’ve become hot property.”

Property. That’s what most of the men here see us as.

I push the thought aside. Perhaps Isa will spot someone she could actually like. It’s time she let go of Luca. He disappeared five years ago after promising to come back for her.

He never did.

“Has anyone caught your interest?” I ask her.