Page 188 of Claimed At First Sight

No. Bad Mia.

That road leads nowhere sensible.

I clear my throat.

“What was it like growing up as the Don’s son?” I ask, partly because I’m curious and partly because I need my mind occupied with something other than Maximo Marco’s firm muscles.

He thinks for a moment, probably debating what he can tell me.

“My father never believed it was his responsibility to shield us from hardship,” Maximo says. “His responsibility was to prepare us for the world we’d inherit.”

“Meaning what?”

“Discipline. Responsibility. Control. He expected us to be able to make difficult decisions without hesitation and to carry the consequences without complaint.”

He goes quiet as if remembering when those words were spoken.

“He used to say that comfort breeds weakness.”

I glance up at him. “That’s a rather bleak philosophy.”

One corner of his mouth lifts. “Perhaps. But it was effective.”

He gets a faraway look.

“If one of us fell, he expected us to get back up. If we argued, we settled it ourselves, or we all had to deal with the consequences.”

He pauses before adding, “He wasn’t merely raising sons, but future Dons.”

There’s neither pride nor resentment in his voice. He states it as one might remark that the sky is blue.

I try to picture Maximo and his brothers growing up beneath the weight of those expectations, always knowing that one day an entire organization would become theirs to carry.

“What about you?” he asks. “I don’t imagine growing up as Antonio Accardi’s daughter was easy.”

A humorless laugh escapes me.

“To be honest, we hardly saw Father.”

Maximo moves his head to look at me, but I keep mine on his shoulder.

“He didn’t stay often at the family estate. Most nights he was in Catania, at his own place. He preferred it that way.” I pause before adding, “The rest of us did too.”

Maximo’s hand tightens around my shoulder. In sympathy or disapproval? Perhaps both.

“You could always tell when he was home,” I continue. “It was as though a wave of cold rolled through the house. The staff was on alert, my sisters stopped laughing, and Mamma became quieter.”

The memories come back with surprising clarity.

“Everyone walked on eggshells, waiting for someone to make a mistake.”

I pull the blanket a little tighter around myself.

“He hardly paid any attention to us unless we’d done something wrong. Then he wanted us in his office.”

I meet Maximo’s gaze.

“That was never a good sign.”