Page 82 of Mine Again (Mafia Bride #2)

Chapter Eighty-One

Luca

I watch Mia’s shoulders dip, resigned, her breath catching. For a moment, she looks smaller, younger.

Then she pulls herself back together, piece by piece, until she’s steady again, steel in her spine. Her chin lifts. The queen in her rises.

Her gaze locks on Maximo, direct and unflinching. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t give her anything back except the certainty of a man who thinks he’s already won.

Silence stretches between them, taut as a wire.

Finally, Mia inhales, head high. “Fine,” she says, the word sharp enough to cut. “I will marry you.”

What the hell?

This is what he was waiting for.

The bastard knew Mia was there. Knew she’d step in to save her sister.

That flicker of a smile, the one I thought was control, makes perfect sense now.

He set the trap and waited for her to walk right into it.

He must’ve proposed to her before and she turned him down. But this time, he made sure she couldn’t .

Isa’s going to hate this. She’d never want her sister tied to a man like Maximo Marcos. Not for her. Not for anyone.

But Isa’s not here. I am. And I let this happen.

One sister kidnapped by a monster. The other sold to one in a tailored suit. And I’m the one who put them both in this mess.

The rage burns so hot it shakes through my hands, but I force them steady. My jaw aches from clenching. My nails bite into my palms.

Fury won’t free Isa. Anger won’t undo what Mia just gave away.

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 him the 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.

“You know I could have handled Maximo. He would have agreed to help me eventually. ”

“I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing, Luca. This way, he has extra motivation.”

I lean back just enough to see her face. “I take it he proposed to you before?”

“Twice, actually. The first time was in Sicily, the day after he met me.” She peeks up at me, chuckling, but the laugh doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Crazy, right?”

I laugh a little too, shaking my head. “And the second time here?”

“Yeah, though I wouldn’t call it a proposal… more like a demand to marry him. I have the great honor of being chosen by him to carry his heirs.”

The sarcasm drips from her lips, but I catch the edge of bitterness beneath it. Again, it’s so much like my Isa. The likeness makes my insides tighten with how much I miss her.

We stay like this for another minute, silently taking strength from each other. The fire crackles in the hearth, filling the space where words fail. Then I step back, searching her face.

“I hate you’re in this position now… I shouldn’t have let this happen.”

She scoffs, straightening. “Don’t think for a moment Maximo has won. Let him call me fiancée, wife, queen, whatever feeds his ego. It doesn’t matter.”

I study her. She’s Isa’s sister, yes, but right now she seems like something else entirely, regal, defiant, untouchable.

Her eyes harden. “I’ll marry him because I honor my word.”

She stops there. The silence stretches. I keep my breathing even, though my chest is like a cage ready to crack. The fire pops, and still she waits.

Then her lips curve into a smile. “But I said nothing about staying married to him.”

The firelight glints in her eyes as she steps closer.

“He wants to own me, Luca. That’s what this is really about. But no man owns me. Not him. Not ever.”

Something inside me twists, half fury, half respect. Maximo thinks he outplayed us, but Mia isn’t conquered. She’s planning her war.

I incline my head. “Then he’ll never see the victory he thinks he has. And if you decide you want out, you tell me. We’ll find a way.”

Her gaze locks on mine, searching. Finally, she nods once, decisively.

“Good. Because I will call in that promise.”

“It’s yours,” I say. “No questions. No hesitation.”

For the first time since entering Aldo’s office, the tension in her shoulders eases. She doesn’t thank me; she doesn’t need to.

I owe her after all, and she knows it. She holds out her hand, and we shake on it, an alliance forged between us.

And one day, Maximo Marcos will learn exactly what it means to play with fire. And that some fires can’t be controlled.