Page 93 of Claimed At First Sight

To his credit, my consigliere doesn’t flinch. Instead, he holds my gaze for another long moment before giving a slow nod.

“Understood.”

Good, because this conversation was never about whether Mia will become mine. Only how soon.

I lean back in my chair, mentally moving on to the remainder of my afternoon.

With our meeting finished, Aldo reaches for his phone just as it begins vibrating across the desk. He glances at the display and frowns before answering.

“What is it?”

He listens for several seconds. Then his entire expression hardens.

“What do you mean you lost her?”

That gets my attention.

“Are you all complete novices?” he snaps, rising from his chair.

He paces a few steps away from the desk, voice turning colder with every passing second.

“How does a nineteen-year-old girl manage to lose trained security?”

I raise an eyebrow at that.

“Find her,” Aldo orders before ending the call.

Turning to me, he says, “They lost Mia.”

“What?”

“She was meeting a friend at a café and somehow managed to ditch her guards.”

A muscle ticks in my jaw. Did I hear him correctly?

“Mialina Accardi has been in Chicago less than twenty-four hours,” I say. “When exactly did she find the time to make a friend?”

“Last night, apparently.” Aldo exhales. “At the birthday celebration.”

Efficient little thing.

“And you allowed her to go out with minimal supervision?”

“She’s not my daughter to command,” Aldo replies. “Caterina was comfortable with it. Besides, Mialina isn’t a child anymore.”

No, she most certainly isn’t. She gets my blood boiling on a near-constant basis, though at this particular moment not from arousal.

“There’s still a marriage contract with the Irish carrying her name,” I remind him. “They might already know she’s in Chicago, and now she’s out there somewhere in this city unprotected.”

My voice rises on the last few words. I normally exercise better control than this.

I draw in a slow breath and force my irritation back. Aldo goes still. Good, he understands the severity of this situation.

I stand and walk toward the windows overlooking the estate grounds. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I call Rafa.

“What’s up?”

“Mia is missing.”