Page 216 of Mine Again
But I’ll be the one to get them both out of this.
Maximo wanted it all; the blank check of my favor and the claim on Mia’s hand. And he got both.
He thinks it’s checkmate. But this game isn’t over.
I’ll keep my word, because mine means something. But if Mia wants out, if she ever looks at me like she needs an escape, I swear I’ll burn every bridge in Chicago to make sure she gets it.
Because no man, especially not Maximo Marcos, gets to play me and walk away smiling.
“Aldo will bring you to my house to strategize,” Maximo says, his eyes never leaving Mia. “Right now, I want a word with my fiancée.”
Mia flinches at the word, and his face flashes with smug triumph.
“Do not call me that,” she hisses. “There’s no deal until my sister walks free. So you better do everything in your power to make that happen.”
She spins and storms out, defiant yet regal.
This girl. If Marcos is really marrying her, he’s in for hell. Mia has Mafia queen carved into her bones. She’ll never go easy on him.
Good. He deserves every ounce of it. For twisting her hand. For making Isa’s rescue a bargaining chip. For playing me until he had both my favor and Mia’s vow.
My stomach knots with the urge to rip that smug expression off his face. The son of a bitch looks satisfied, his lips curving faintly, like Mia’s fury only sweetened the win.
I force myself to stand still. To keep my hands loose at my sides, not clenched into fists. Maximo thrives on control, and I won’t give himthe satisfaction of seeing me lose mine.
“Excuse me,” he says smoothly, striding after Mia, not rattled in the slightest. The air he leaves behind is colder, like a looming shadow.
Aldo watches them go, his jaw tight. I can see the calculation flicker across his face. He’s picturing Caterina’s reaction and how this will land in their already strained relationship.
But my mind’s on Mia. On Isa. On the fact that Maximo thinks he can have everything without consequences.
He won’t.
Aldo stalks off toward Caterina’s wing of the house. He has his own storm to face, and I don’t envy him. I have one of my own.
Mia.
I head down the hall, the sound of my steps muted against the old rugs. It doesn’t take long to find her. She’s in the small sitting room off the main hall, pacing like a caged panther. The fire in the hearth throws her shadow long across the wall.
Maximo is nowhere in sight. She probably sent him away.
She spins when I enter. “Come to lecture me?”
“No,” I say simply. “To talk.”
Her chin lifts, combative. “Then say what you have to say.”
I cross to the far side of the room, close enough to face her but far enough to give her space.
“Thank you for doing this for Isa. Though she won’t like you sacrificing yourself for her.”
Mia shrugs, the gesture so much like Isa’s it stings. For a second, I almost hear my farfalla answering me instead.
“She would have done the same for me.”
“Yes, she would have.” My throat is tight as I step closer and pull her into a hug.
Mia comes willingly, letting out a long breath against my chest. Having had no siblings, Mia has always been like a little sister to me. Though, she really is all grown up now.
