Page 32 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)
Chapter Thirty-One
Isabella
T he dining room is warm against the chill that presses at the windows. The lamps cast a cozy glow over the table, softening the edges of the room. Beyond the glass, the world has already gone dark.
Mamma folds her napkin and places it beside her empty plate. Her smile is gentle as she glances at each of us.
“We will all be going to Chicago in ten days,” she says quietly. “Aldo invited us. He’s arranged for the Marcos jet to pick us up.”
Sienna and Mia exchange a look, their brows lifting, while I sit there too stunned to move.
“Chicago?” Mia repeats, her voice a little higher than usual. She wouldn’t be thinking of Maximo, would she?
“Why so soon?” I ask.
We knew this day would come, given Aldo’s calls have been getting longer and his affection more obvious. Last week he sent Mamma flowers. But whenever we ask about her budding romance, she just smiles and says they enjoy talking.
“Aldo’s been asking for a while. He invited us for Christmas, but I thought it was too soon. And then with Mari’s events… we ll, we couldn’t really go. But now seems like the right time.”
No, Mamma. It’s the worst timing.
How can I keep things with Sebastian going if I’m not here? Everything is progressing so well. I don’t want to slow down.
“Yay, I finally get to fly,” Ari cheers. “How long are we going for? And can we take Rufus with us?”
“No. The cat will stay here,” Mamma replies firmly.
Ari grimaces. She loves that cat. Any animals, really. If she could, she’d have a dozen pets.
“And we’re going for at least two or three weeks. We’ll see how things go.” Her smile widens, excitement lighting her face.
“You mean, whether you want to get serious with Aldo?” Mia asks, never one to mince words, and definitely not now that Father is gone. “Do you really want to bind yourself to another tyrant?”
“Aldo isn’t a tyrant. He’s been nothing but respectful and kind. I’m—”
“He’s consigliere to Maximo Marcos. The same position Father wanted here so he could wield more power. He—”
“Mia, do not interrupt me when I’m speaking.” Mamma’s voice cuts through like steel. We haven’t heard that tone from her since Father’s death.
“Aldo is not your father. And I’m not binding myself to anyone. I’m exploring my options,” she says, more calmly now. “Believe me, I’ve learned from my mistakes. I can spot the red flags.”
I shoot Mia a look, silently telling her to stop. She crosses her arms and doesn’t say another word.
Part of this must be about avoiding Maximo. But there’s more. There’s something in her expression whenever his name comes up.
“We want you to be happy, Mamma,” I say. “With or without a man.”
I force a smile, though my chest tightens. My fork rests forgotten on my plate, the last of my meal untouched.
This has taken me by complete surprise.
Ten days .
The conversation drifts around me. Ari and Sienna talk about what to pack and which cousins they hope to see. Their eyes shine with excitement. I want to feel it too, but I can’t.
All I sense is an invisible clock starting to tick very loudly.
Later, I sit on the wide windowsill, hugging my knees, the sea dark beyond the garden. My phone rests in my palm.
Sebastian’s text glows on the screen. His usual goodnight, telling me to dream of him.
But I’m anything but sleepy. My mind races, trying to work out how to keep Plan NUPTIAL alive despite this looming trip.
I don’t hear the knock, only the door creaking open. Mia pokes her head in.
“Are you asleep yet?” she asks quietly.
I didn’t bother turning on the light, and she must think I’ve already gone to bed.
“I’m over here,” I say, and her eyes find mine in the silver wash of moonlight.
She crosses the room to join me, hopping onto the sill and leaning against my shoulder.
“What’s keeping you up?”
I hesitate. I want to tell her. But still, I stall.
“You don’t want to go to Chicago, do you?” I ask instead.
She sighs. “Not really. But I get it. Mamma needs to move on. And I’ve been looking into what you said. About Niccolo Romero.”
“And?”
“He’s unpredictable. Ruthless. No one is safe once he sets his sights on them. And with us coming from old Mafia blood… I could see him wanting one of us to marry him or one of his men to solidify his claim on la famiglia .”
“So would you marry Maximo to avoid Niccolo or his men? ”
She snorts. “Not a chance. Maximo would try to control every aspect of my life. No, thank you.”
She crosses her arms, annoyed. “Besides, he’s too old, and he’d never change. What’s that saying? You can’t teach an old dog new tricks?”
She inspects her fingernails, even though it’s too dim to see.
“Other than his looks, he has nothing going for him. And I’d rather die an old spinster than marry a Mafia man. Look how that worked out for Mamma.”
“Look how it worked out for Mari,” I counter.
Not sure why, considering I’m trying to avoid the same thing.
“Well, Mateo is no longer in the Mafia, is he?” she shoots back, flashing a triumphant smile.
I just shake my head.
“But talking about me wasn’t why I came.” Her tone softens. “I’ve seen you sneaking out a few times.”
My cheeks warm, and I glance away, trying to hide my guilty expression.
Mia chuckles. “Yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice. That and you’re spending an awful lot of time on your phone.” She pointedly stares at the device in my hand. “And I bet you’re not trading crypto.”
“Shh.” I tap my finger against my lips. “Remember, no one knows about that.”
“So who are you on the phone with?”
“Promise not to tell anyone.”
“Scout’s honor.” She raises two fingers as if she is swearing an oath.
“You’ve never been in the Scouts.”
“Mafia princess’s honor?”
Hmm. “Yeah, that will do.”
Mia leans forward, resting her chin on her knees, watching me with that unblinking curiosity she always has when she senses something big.
“Well?” she prompts.
I hesitate, then let the words slip out in a rush.
“Sebastian Moretti.”
Mia blinks. “Who’s that? Should I know him?”
I shake my head. My pulse quickens, but saying it aloud feels right.
“He’s not in the Mafia. That’s what I want, Mia. I want out too.”
Understanding dawns on her face.
“Not a bad plan. Marry a civilian. Why haven’t I thought of that? Where did you find him?”
“I ran into him on my birthday on the way back from the restrooms at the restaurant. Then, by pure chance, he was at the same café as me just before Christmas.”
I leave out the whole Andrea dating disappointment. The last thing I need is one of Mia’s nosy inquisitions.
“I remember you with a hot guy before the kitchen fire. That was him?” She fans herself, making me giggle.
“Yeah, he’s hot. And he’s got the most intense blue eyes.”
“So you’ve been seeing him all that time?” She sounds offended I’m only telling her now.
“No. He gave me his card that second time, but I only got in touch with him a couple of weeks ago.”
Mia seems placated by that, her eyes lighting up again.
“What’s he like?”
“He’s the most direct man I’ve ever met. But he’s respectful. Kind. And most importantly, he doesn’t want a fling. He’s the heir to a family business investing in real estate and needs to settle down soon.”
“Hmm. Sounds like it could be mutually beneficial.” Mia tilts her head. “Do you love him?”
“What? No.” My laugh is small, and my stomach knots. “Mia, it’s been two weeks. Nobody falls in love that quickly.”
“Don Gualtiero did. And Mateo too, once Mari was on his radar.”
“Yeah, well. They’re the exception. I like Sebastian. Being with him is…” I search for the word. “It’s easy.”
“Could you love him one day? Because I don’t want to see you unhappy in your marriage, Isa. We’ve had enough of that in our family already.”
The question makes me pause. I remind myself, yet again, that Luca is gone. At some point, I have to move on. It might as well be now.
“Yes, I think I could grow to love him.”
She studies me. The moonlight softens her face.
“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself.”
“Probably,” I admit. “But maybe that’s okay, and this is how it happens. You choose someone because it makes sense, and the rest comes later. There’s attraction, and I enjoy his kisses. I like who I am when I’m with him. That has to mean something, right?”
Mia looks out the window for a few moments, thoughtful.
“And you’ve done a background check? Is he really who he says he is?”
“It’s all clear,” I confirm.
“And he’s a good kisser? Because you really don’t want a dud if you’re going to stay with him.”
I grin. “Yeah. He’s a very good kisser.”
Nothing, of course, compares to Luca. But he was my first love, my first everything. That’s to be expected, right?
Mia’s voice lowers. “Then don’t waste time. If he’s normal, or as normal as one can hope for us, financially stable, and looks like he could stand up to our world, go for it. God knows what might be forced on us otherwise.”
She looks serious as she taps her finger against her chin.
“If you’re sure about this, you should stay back when we go to Chicago and close the deal.”