Page 36 of Claimed At First Sight

I make my way back into the house unnoticed. My heart doesn’t stop racing until I’m behind the heavy oak door of my bedroom. I lean against the wood, anger surging all over again.

Damn Maximo Marco for being my first kiss and for being so… loud in my mind. If Elio had taken that spot, it would have been a nice enough memory. Something easy enough to beat in the future.

But Maximo had to set a bar so high that a normal, decent person can’t easily reach it.

I step out onto my balcony, the December wind cooler than I’d like. I look out toward the horizon, past the jagged cliffs and the gray expanse of the sea, where I imagine his plane is currently taking off.

I should be celebrating, not standing here cursing his name. I touch my fingers to my lips. They’re not even the slightest bit swollen.

I won’t let Maximo win this.

Not happening.

I pull my arms around myself, shivering as the sun ducks behind a cloud. I just need to refine my strategy.

Elio was practically a boy. And judging by that kiss, probably almost as inexperienced as I am. No wonder I didn’t feel anything.

Next time, I’ll pick a man. Someone with enough experience to make me forget what happened in the garden yesterday.

I will find him, kiss him, and erase Maximo Marco once and for all.

Chapter Eleven

Maximo

Snow drifts past the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse, softening the sharp edges of Chicago below. From up here, the city looks quieter than it really is. Cleaner. Controlled.

It’s an illusion. Our family owns too much of this city for me to ever mistake it as peaceful.

I adjust the cuff of my black dress shirt while watching traffic crawl across the bridges below. Christmas lights glow from rooftops and trees, gold and white against the gray afternoon sky. Beyond the river and the crowded skyline, Lake Michigan looks like steel.

It’s been eight days since I met Mia Accardi in Sicily. Six days since I kissed her, and she ran from me.

I didn’t see her again afterward, not that I expected to. Of course she avoided me for the rest of my stay. She returned to the Accardi estate probably believing this was the end of it, that I’d go back to Chicago and forget about my proposal.

I haven’t. And I won’t.

She’s crossed my mind far more often than she has any business doing. And after today’s ceremony, I’ll decide on the best way to bring her to Chicago.

A soft whistle sounds behind me.

“Jesus,” Gabe mutters. “You actually look nervous.”

I glance over my shoulder. My younger brother lounges against the kitchen island with an espresso in one hand, his suit jacket folded over the marble countertop beside him. Unlike Rafa, who fills every room like a loaded weapon, Gabe moves through life like he already knows everyone will eventually agree with him.

“I don’t get nervous.”

“No?” His mouth curves. “You’ve been staring out that window for ten minutes.”

“I live here. I’m allowed to look at the view.”

“You hate the view.”

“That’s because the architect was an idiot.”

Gabe huffs a laugh. “Most people would kill to live in a penthouse overlooking Chicago.”

“Most people don’t need to worry about sniper angles.”