Page 2 of Claimed By the Possessive Mafia Prince

SIENA

I walk up the beach, the sun already burning down, the sand bleached white. The palm trees watch me as I make my way past the huts, which sit on the clear blue water. No one else is stupid enough to be up this early, but I’ve got a job to do. I’m not here for pleasure, nor for leisure.

I’m here to do a good job. For my career. For Mom.

The Bianchis are old money. Not only have they hired an entire island in the Maldives for their vow renewal. They’ve also built infrastructure, such as this makeshift hut with ‘Fantasy Boat Rental–Making Dreams Come True’ written across the front in cherry red letters.

This island didn’t have a boat tour station here, meaning they would’ve had to wait longer for their tour. The Bianchis are too rich for that.

I knock on the door, wait a minute, then knock again.

Finally, a skinny man answers, his almond eyes narrowed suspiciously as though I’ve committed a crime. “Hello, miss?”

“Ahmed?” I ask.

He bows slightly. “Yes.”

“Hi–I’m Siena. We spoke on the phone?”

“Yes?” He says, like it’s a question.

“I want to confirm that everything is still okay for the Bianchi boat tour.”

A flicker of… something moves across his face. Fear? Awkwardness? “Ah, that, Miss Siena.”

“Yes, that.” I fidget, then hear my mother’s voice in my head. Don’t get antsy . “I arranged it in advance.”

“I’m afraid we’ve had to cancel those arrangements, Miss Siena.”

I feel my face turning red. “That’s impossible. The Bianchis were very clear about wanting to go on this tour. What reason could you have for canceling? We’re the only large party on this island.”

He looks down, and it’s there again. Fear. I’m almost certain. “There have been complications.”

I resist the urge to grind my teeth, put on my best friendly voice, which is a challenge, I’ll admit. “What complications?”

Unbelievably, he shuts the door in my face. “Very sorry, Miss Siena, but there will be no boat tour.”

I stick my foot in the doorway. “Have you spoken to my boss, Veronica Lane, about this?”

He shakes his head.

“Who have you spoken to?” I practically grit out.

He looks down at my foot like he’s considering kicking it out of the way. I almost want him to try. “There is–uh–another booking on another island. We didn’t know. Double booked. So sorry, Miss Siena.”

He’s lying. I don’t know how I know. Call it instinct.

“Your foot is in the way,” he says.

“I’m aware my foot is in the way. I’ve done that on purpose because, honestly, slamming the door in my face seems absurdly rude and completely unprofessional. As does your unwillingness to give me an explanation. Have you spoken to my boss?”

“No, Miss Siena.”

“She won’t take this well.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This was arranged with more than enough time.”

For the third time, that look of panic. “I’m sorry,” he repeats.

“I’ll be back,” I tell him, turning away and taking out my cell. I call Veronica.

She answers, sounding tired. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“I didn’t want to wake you, but Ahmed with Fantasy Boat Rental seems to think he can cancel our boat tour. Apparently, he’s double-booked us. I’ve tried to explain that this is unacceptable, but he won’t listen. And…”

“And?” Veronica prompts.

I almost don’t say it. “He looked scared.”

Veronica’s slightly mocking tone makes me wish I’d kept it to myself. “Scared?”

“I don’t know. Like maybe there’s some funny business going on. Perhaps they aren’t double-booked. Maybe someone just offered them more money or something? Or there’s another reason for canceling?”

“Another reason.” Veronica sighs. “Siena, don’t let your imagination run away with you.”

“Okay, fine, you’re probably right. But what are we going to do about this?”

“ We’re not going to do anything. You’re going to handle this yourself. What’s the point of me having a right-hand woman if you can’t deal with situations like this? I’m going back to sleep.”

When she hangs up, I snap, “Witch!” Then quickly check that the call has, in fact, ended. If she’d heard me, that would be a nightmare. But I mean it. Veronica and I usually get on well. I’ve never known her to be so blunt.

Marching back to the boat-rental hut, I slam my fist against the door until Ahmed answers again.

“I don’t know what you and your company think you’re doing, Ahmed.

I don’t know whether you’ve been offered more money or if this is some sick prank to ruin my day and my job, but if you don’t honor the original booking–a booking for which I have email confirmation–then I’m going to pursue legal action. ”

His eyes widen, and I almost feel guilty, but I can’t afford that. “Lawyers?”

“An entire army of lawyers descending on this island like a plague of locusts, yep.”

He looks up and down the beach as though searching for help. “But?—”

“No buts . We had an agreement.”

Finally, he sighs. “Very well. No lawyers.”

“No lawyers,” I say, trying for a smile. From his reaction, it must have come across more like an unhinged grimace. “Now, are you ready to take the boat out?”

“The boat?”

“So, we can scout the tour beforehand. I want to ensure the Bianchis have the best experience. The email included this agreement as well.”

“Tour, yes, but I’m very busy, Miss Siena, until the tour. I promise you the tour will be great. The best tour you’ve ever had.”

“Where are the boats?” I snap.

“Behind the hut.”

“Then forget I said anything. Just make sure you and your team are ready for the tour. Do you have a map of the route we’ll be taking?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll take one–please.”

Once he’s collected one for me, I stuff it in my pocket and walk around the hut, eyeing up the rowboats. Putting my phone, the map, and my room key in my small waterproof fanny pack, I grab one of the smaller boats and begin dragging it down the beach, a light layer of sweat already coating me.

“Miss Siena?” Ahmed chases after me. “What are you doing?”

“I need to scout the locations to ensure it’s as romantic as possible,” I reply. “As I told you in my email. If you won’t help me, then I’ll do it myself.”

“That’s not a good idea.”

“Maybe not, but it’s the only one I have. Unless you’ve changed your mind and you and your team are going to come with me?”

He shakes his head.

“Okay, then.”

He returns to the hut, and I drag the boat into the shallows. A moment later, Ahmed comes running back with a life vest in his hand. “Take this, Miss Siena.”

“Great–thanks.”

I put the vest on and then push the boat further into the water. The waves splash around my thighs and then my hips. Jumping into the boat, I fix the oars into the slots and paddle, filled with determination.

Based on the map, the tour is going to take us out to get a view of the island, sitting like a peach in the water, the palm trees rising like fuzz, with rock formations and an artificial waterfall visible (another Bianchi creation).

Then we’re going to row around the island to the other end, where, apparently, the island takes the appearance of a smiling face from certain angles.

I bet the island has a more convincing smile than I do at the moment.

I won’t go into self-pitying territory, however, because nothing good can come of that. I’m in paradise, and sure, I’m stressed, but that comes with wanting to do a good job.

As I row, I think about that weird look on Ahmed’s face again. It seems like a bad omen?—

Something striking the boat interrupts my thoughts. It jostles from side to side. I grip the oars and sit heavily to make sure I don’t go flying overboard.

When I’m steady enough, I peer over the water.

A snorkel pokes out of the water, then, a moment later, a man’s face follows. He smirks up at me. Mid to late thirties, dark glistening hair, and dark watchful eyes, which are playful despite their immediate intensity.

“Mind if I join you?” he says in a rough, teasing voice.

Before I can answer, he hauls himself into the boat, sitting opposite me in just his swimming trunks. Water slides down his sculpted body. I’m not here for romance, so obviously, I’m not going to say anything.

But I’d be lying to myself if I claimed he wasn’t hot…