Page 15 of Claimed At First Sight

I watch him disappear into the crowd before looking back toward Maximo. He’s already speaking to the older men again as if nothing happened.

Did Maximo scare Lorenzo off?

No, surely that was a coincidence.

Except it keeps happening.

One man approaches confidently, only to remember somewhere else he needs to be after a single look across the room. Another excuses himself halfway through asking about my interests.

By the third time, I’m seriously annoyed. The sheer arrogance of the man!

He doesn’t even come over here. He simply stands across the room, glaring at every man who approaches me as though he’s trespassing.

How dare he? He has no claim on me. I can talk to whoever I want.

When the next man approaches, I keep the conversation going deliberately.

His name is Alessio something. Or Alessandro. Honestly, I stopped listening after he complimented my youthful glow. Who says that at a memorial?

I ask extra questions to drag the interaction out. I can practically feel the heat of Maximo’s stare now. Alessio-Alessandro shifts slightly under it, seeming uncomfortable.

“So,” I say sweetly, “what exactly do you do for your father?”

Before he can answer, his eyes dart over my shoulder again, his posture changing. A beat later, he steps back.

“Excuse me. I just remembered my father needed me.”

Seriously, are all these men such cowards? Maximo isn’t that intimidating.

I slowly turn my head.

Across the ballroom, Maximo lifts his whiskey glass to his lips with the calm composure of a man who absolutely didn’t just glare another human being out of existence.

Our eyes lock.

I find no shame or apology. If anything, he seems unimpressed that it took me this long to catch on.

The audacity.

My pulse hammers a frantic rhythm against my throat, a traitorous response to the intensity of his stare. I refuse to let him see how he affects me.

I hold his gaze for one deliberate second before smiling sarcastically and raising my champagne flute in a mock salute.

His expression doesn’t change.

Stronzo.

Chapter Five

Mialina

“You’ve caught Mateo’s cousin’s attention,” Isa says when she joins me after disentangling herself from a conversation with a man old enough to be our grandfather.

Her voice is light with amusement. I suppose she must have been watching me and Max for a while.

No, not Max. Maximo.

For the briefest second, I glance toward the other side of the room where the irritating mobster has settled into one of the formal seating areas with a group of men.