Page 55 of Mine Again
Another pause.
Then, implication lacing every word, he asks, “Were you aware your father was in the final stages of arranging your marriage?”
Chapter Nineteen
Isabella
Father was arranging Mia’s marriage next? Before mine?
What the?
My breath catches. Mia doesn’t answer. She doesn’t move. The silence stretches, heavy and charged. I inch closer and carefully peek around the corner.
Maximo and Mia are facing away from me. His head is turned toward her, watching her.
I can’t see her face, but I recognize that stillness. She’s rigid, her posture suggesting she’s locking herself in position to weather her reaction.
“How would you know that?” she asks at last, her voice calm in that unnerving way she gets when she’s really rattled.
“I did a bit of digging,” he says, sounding too damn casual. “Wanted to see if I had any competition.”
Oh God. Heisserious. He’s actually interested in Mia.
But why? They only met yesterday.
I can tell by the slight shift in her shoulders that Mia is lifting her chin and fixing him with a stare.
“You’re lying,” she says. “It wasn’t my turn. Father told us he wasarranging Isabella’s marriage.”
“Yet, there’s no indication he talked to anyone about your oldest sister.”
What?
I press a hand to my chest, relieved beyond words.
There’s no secret fiancé. No arrangement lurking in the shadows.
I hadn’t even realized how tense I’d been about it until the pressure started to drain from my body.
Still, this doesn’t make sense.
Everyone was shocked when Mari was chosen first. That plan fell apart spectacularly on the wedding day, literally seconds before she had to say “I do.”
Thank God, or she wouldn’t be with Mateo now, the only man she’s ever loved.
But Mia? Why Mia next?
She must be thinking the same thing.
“And pray tell,” she says, dry and edged with disbelief, “who exactly was my late father arranging my nuptials with?”
“Shay Donnelly.”
Mia blinks. “That name sounds Irish. Why would my father have anything to do with the Irish?”
“For an alliance of sorts, obviously,” Maximo replies smoothly. “Shay Donnelly. Thirty-eight, I believe. Unfortunately, I know him well. He’s operating on my turf. He’s second in line to the Blackthorn Syndicate in Chicago.”
“Chicago?” Mia cuts in. “That doesn’t add up. It’s half a world away.”
