Page 46 of Claimed At First Sight

Sienna is sprawled across the rug nearby, attempting to teach Isa some ridiculous card game while Mamma reads and sips coffee, occasionally watching them with quiet amusement.

“Sien, darling,” Mamma says as Sienna lets out a theatrical groan. “If you put as much effort into the game as you do into that pout, you might actually win a hand.”

“I’m not pouting,” she says, clutching her cards to her chest as if she’s been insulted. “I’m strategizing. There’s a very fine line.”

Isa snorts, not even looking up from her cards.

“You’ve been strategizing your way into a losing streak for twenty minutes. Your face is an open book, Sien. You might as well just show me your hand.”

“Some of us are more expressive than others,” Sienna counters, her eyes wide and mock-offended.

I grin into my coffee. Sienna makes it far too easy.

Ari appears in the doorway peeling a mandarin, her gaze instantly locking onto the untouched gift box still sitting under the tree.

“Can you just open it, Mia?”

“She hasn’t even untied the ribbon,” Sienna complains.

“That’s actually disturbing,” Ari says. “You’re usually the first one attacking the presents.”

She drops onto the window seat beside me, her eyes fixed on the box I’ve been ignoring since it arrived on Christmas Eve with perfect timing.

“I want to know what’s inside it,” she adds.

“Well, I don’t,” I reply.

“Liar,” Isa cuts in, looking up from her cards. A smile tugs at her mouth. “You’re dying to find out.”

I glare at her over my coffee cup.

“Fine,” I admit. “Maybe a little. But it will probably irritate me. So I’m better off not knowing.”

Sienna’s eyes light with interest. “What do you think it is?”

“No idea. Probably a manual on how to become an obedient wife.”

Ari snorts so hard she nearly chokes on a piece of mandarin.

“Or one of those vintage baby carriages,” I continue. “To drive the point home that he wants heirs.”

“That wouldn’t fit in that box,” Sienna deadpans.

“You know what I mean.”

Isa reaches over and lifts the box between her hands. It’s about the size of a shoebox, wrapped in thick matte black paper with a deep emerald ribbon crossed neatly over the top. Even the wax seal on the tag looks expensive.

Ari has already tried to “accidentally” inspect it twice without loosening so much as a corner. Now Isa tilts it, testing the weight.

“I don’t think it’s a book,” she says. “It’s not heavy enough.”

“It’s probably diamonds,” Sienna says. “Or a human finger.”

“Eww. Why would he send her a human finger?” Isa’s face screws up in a grimace.

Sien shrugs. “As a romantic gesture to show he’d kill for her?”

We all stare at her.