In this chapter you'll be introduced to two of my favourite characters 😍

This chapter is very important to the story and the plot, so pay attention 👀 I'd say it's the most important one.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy! ✨

Don't forget to comment 🩷 It means the world to me!

Also, I want to get to know you guys better so here's your question of the day...

In bed early 😴 or night owl 🦉?

"You're really getting married?" Damian stared at me wide eyed, his little pink ice cream spoon halfway to his lips.

Ice cream dates were our thing.

"Yeah." I sighed, leaning back in the plush chair at our favourite ice cream parlour in Manhattan.

They always give extra sprinkles for free if you charm them in the right way. It just helps that Damian and I can be pretty charming when we want extra sprinkles.

"You agreed?"

"I don't really have a choice, Damy. At least if I cooperate, I'll get some kind of say in who I marry which is unheard of for women in my
position."

"Damn." He whispered, taking a bite of his chocolate fudge ice cream. "Well, do you know who you might marry?"

"That's actually what I wanted your opinion on. I think you'll know all the candidates we talked about this morning."

I took my phone out to find the notes I'd made during our early meeting this morning over breakfast.

It was going to take me a long time to recover from the mental trauma of being awake so early.

My plan was to research every name and gather as much intel as I could. That meant I was going to ask Damian for his opinion on each one. He's the only one who wouldn't sugarcoat it or hide anything from me.

When he realised what we were about to do, my cousin grinned, rubbing his hands together. "This is going to be fun."

He's finding excitement in my misery.

"So, we decided to go around the world and list all the different organisations." I couldn't think of a better word to use in such a crowded ice cream parlour.

Since we lived in New York for most of the year, I decided to start in America.

"The American Mob is run by-"

"Leroy Augustine. He's a dick. He killed his own sister for having an affair with his bestfriend." Damian shook his head to object straight away.

"Okaaay. I don't need that kind of drama in my life." I deleted his name off the list before continuing. "Next was Mexico. Julius said his name was Raul Her-"

"Absolutely not. Any criminal gang in Mexico or anywhere in South America will use you as a fucking drug mule. Or they'll pimp you out to their closest friends and relatives."

Remember when I said he wouldn't sugarcoat it?

"Okay." I cringed at the thought of carrying drugs in my...hidden places. I deleted Raul Hernandez and all the other names from Brazil, Argentina and Colombia.

"Any of the Triads in China?"

"Bitch, you don't speak Chinese."

Good point.

"Japan? I love sushi." I grinned while he gave me a flat look. "You're willing to marry a seventy year old Japanese criminal for the sushi?"

So he's also off the list.

"Is there anyone in Australia? Australia is cool."

"Yeah, cool with all it's freaking spiders." He grinned.

"Oh, hell no." I shook my head, quickly moving on from Australia. Damian laughed, knowing all about my arachnophobia. I'm that bitch that will shamelessly have a panic attack if she sees a spider.

"Spain? The Diaz family."

"No." Damian immediately shook his head, stuffing his mouth with more ice cream.

"What? Why? I've met them before, they're all really nice. Plus, from what I remember, Antonio is kind of cute." Antonio was the heir and future leader of the Diaz Crime Family. I'd met him a few times in passing and he was definitely an 8 out of 10.

But Damian didn't reply.

I frowned, watching him eat another bite of his ice cream while avoiding my gaze. I knew that sheepish behaviour all too well.

"Damian...what did you do?"

"What makes you think I did anything?" He quipped back immediately. Now he's being defensive.

"I know you, so spill." He took another few seconds and another bite of ice cream then he finally confessed to his stupidity.

"I slept with Miguel."

"You slept with Miguel Diaz?" I leaned forward, whisper shouting. "He's the psycho brother who-"

"Organises secret sex parties where people mysteriously end up dead. I know." He continued to avoid my gaze, swirling his spoon in his cup. I thought he was looking away in shame, but he was actually preparing to stun me again.

"I also slept with his sister."

"Damian, I-"

"And then his mother."

"Okay, so cute Antonio is off the list." I didn't want to hear anymore. He chuckled when I shook my head in disgust. My cousin slept with three out of five members of the main Diaz family.

I could never un-know that.

"Have you slept with anyone from the Walker family in London?"

"No, I haven't. But, Lucas Walker is married and he has a 17 year old son who I don't think is in your age range. Anyway, you'd hate London. It's too cold."

"We live in New York." I pointed out with a laugh.

"And we spend the winters in Athens, honey. London is too cold for you and it's not exotic enough. You won't fit in with that gorgeous skin tone." I rolled my eyes, trying to hide my smile as I took a bite of my mango ice cream.

Damian was always the one who couldn't handle the cold in New York. But he always blamed me to save face - apparently it's not good for the future Underboss of the Greek Mafia to be scared of the cold.

"France? Louis Fa-"

"Convicted rapist." Off the list you go, Louis. And hopefully off to prison.

"Netherlands? The Vries family is nice, right?"

"They traffic women. Piss your husband off and we'll never see you again." I have a knack for pissing people off. I'll cross him off the list too.

"Denmark?"

"Married, no sons."

"Switzerland?"

"That guy is ugly as fu-"

"Don't be mean." I glared at him, deleting another name off my list. I might have told Damian not to be mean, but we had a very similar taste in men. I need someone I find attractive and I trusted Damian's judgment.

"Serb-"

"Say that word and I'll send you to Australia to live with the spiders." His eyes suddenly went from humorous and playful to cold and angry in a split second.

I was used to the mood swings when it came to mafia men and their business, but that didn't mean I liked it. They'd been especially touchy about the Serbian Mafia recently - sometimes unnecessarily.

"Okay." I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, deleting the Serbian leader off my list.

"Russia?" I moved onto the next name with a tentative murmur, taking another bite of my ice cream.

Damian hesitated before he spoke. "Shit...Maleficent, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Since the bitch called me Maleficent, I refused to look at him and he tried again. "You just need to understand that when it comes to business, tempers flare and we can get a little mean. We're at war with the Serbs, you know that."

Still no reply.

"You want some of my ice cream?" He slid the chocolate fudge brownie ice cream towards me and I felt my resolve weaken.

"Fine." I snatched his ice cream from him, sliding mine towards him. We always swap a couple of times. It's just a thing we do.

"So, Russia?" I huffed, having had enough of this conversation.

"Viktor Kozlov...he's a little scary for you, but he's not a bad guy. He's a few years older than you, if I'm correct. Maybe 33 years old or something like that. He's had an on again off again relationship with some woman for the last decade. But, from what I know he's been single for a while, so he'll probably agree to the marriage."

Only an eight year gap. That works?

"Do you think...do you think he's a good option?" I suddenly felt uncomfortable and shy at the thought of meeting any of these men for the purpose of marriage.

I've met some of them in passing, but meetings for marriage are so different. They often become public news very quickly if new alliances are being formed. They're also very political and business focussed.

Let's just say, your personal comparability is rarely ever considered.

"Yes, I think so. He doesn't have a wife, he's in your age range and he doesn't traffic women. We have a good relationship with the Russians too. Your father would be happy with this one."

I nodded, leaving Viktor Kozlov on my list. That just left the last name.

"The Accardi family in Sicily?" I took a bite of the chocolate ice cream, waiting for his reaction. But it wasn't a reaction I expected.

This bitch laughed at me. "What's so funny?"

"You said it as if the Accardi family would want you." He laughed, his dimples showing.

"What's wrong with me?" I frowned.

"You're...you're you." He gestured at me as if I myself was exhibit A in his argument.

I caught my reflection in the window of the ice cream parlour and I winced. I was sitting there in my hangover outfit consisting of my oversized men's hoodie, leggings and sunglasses. My face was bare of make up and my hair - frizzy from this morning's shower - was thrown up into a bun.

I screamed 'I'm hungover going through a mid-twenties crisis'.

Damian was right, but I decided to go on the defensive instead of agreeing that I'm a hot mess.

"So you think I'm not good enough for them?" He laughed again, not taking my offended tone very seriously.

"They're a classic Mafia family, Mildew. They don't like outsiders. They don't treat anyone who isn't an Accardi with respect - unless you've earned it. They're Sicilian royalty and they don't take anyone's shit."

People who don't share their blood have to earn their respect?

"They don't sound like royalty, they just sound arrogant as fuck." I shook my head in aversion. "The last thing I want is to be stuck married to a narcissistic, arrogant, pompous, son of a-"

"Yeah, okay." Damian cut me off with a laugh, clearly seeing the signs of my impending rant.

"I'm serious. They sound obnoxious." I could never be married to someone like that.

"Don't judge until you've met them, Mildred. Costa and his brothers are alright once you get to know them. Well, they're alright for a bunch of murderous criminals." He shrugged, taking another bite of my mango ice cream.

"Costa?"

"Costantino Accardi. He's the heir to the Sicilian Mafia."

Even his name sounded pretentious.

Okay, maybe I was just still sore from my encounter with Italian dick last night.

Costantino does have a nice name. But, if he's anything like that guy I met last night, then I'd never even want to meet him let alone marry him.

"As far as alliances go, the Sicilian Mafia is a hell of a good one. They control most of Italy and the Mediterranean region. Your father would prefer it over the Russians, for sure."

It sounded like this would be the jackpot for my father. But after last night, I've had enough of Italian men to last me a lifetime.

"Do you think Costantino would agree to the marriage?" In this life there was no such thing as romance and love marriages. It was always a business alliance, if love came after then that was just a bonus.

Damian hesitated, something I picked up on instantly. I knew how to read people and my cousin, for me, was the easiest to read.

"What?"

"Costa...he has a bit of a reputation for being a player. He's never expressed any interest in settling down. He's known to screw around, a lot."

"So while I've been forced to stay a virgin for 25 years, he's-"

"-screwed whoever the hell he wanted, naí." (Yes) My cousin finished my sentence, sliding my mango ice cream back over to me.

Distaste filled me immediately. The last thing I needed was a man-whore of a husband. I know men in his position would most likely have a large body count, but at least the Russian guy didn't have a reputation for it.

It was an unspoken rule in this life that a woman of my status must remain a virgin until she gets married. It's the right of her husband to have a virgin on his wedding night - an archaic tradition which I abhor. I've never been one to keep my mouth shut about how much I despise this rule.

But I can't do anything to change the way the organised crime world has worked for centuries.

"What about the rest of the Accardi family? Are they nice?"

"Costa's father is very strict and traditional. I think their conservative values are stronger than most because their organisation goes back centuries. I'm not sure they'd treat you the same way we do. You have a lot of freedom here to go out and do whatever you want, you have your own company and your own income. I'm not sure they'd afford you the same...luxuries."

Damian clearly liked the Accardi family, but he was also being honest with me. His uncertainty was a definite red flag. He knew me better than most and he knew if I'd fit in or not.

I trusted him with my life.

"We'll go with Viktor Kozlov for now. Dad said there's a gala in three weeks that we can go to. He said a lot of these guys are going to be there." I felt uneasy at the thought of having to attend any of these kind of galas.

Knowing I was there for marriage purposes just didn't sit well with me. It would be like being a zoo attraction with so many eyes and ears on us as at all times.

"Don't worry, Millie. We'll get you prepared for the ball. I'll teach you as much as you need to know about everyone, especially Kozlov. We'll buy you a nice dress and we'll make sure you get your first choice. We can even teach you how to dance, because after what I saw last night, you definitely need it." Damian grinned, clearly stepping into the position of 'Millie's Fairy God Cousin'.

That's exactly what ended up happening.

Over the next three weeks they taught me all I needed to know about some of my potential marriage prospects. Most of my lessons focused on Viktor Kozlov's Russian Bratva.

By the time the gala came around three weeks after my birthday party, I was ready - nervous as hell, but ready.

"What do you think?" I smiled at Mama as I descended down the last step and into the entry hall.

"Oh darling, I love it. You look stunning." Her eyes traveled over my dress and my accessories, but then lingered on my leg. "But...I think it might give your brother a heart a-"

"Oh, hell no." Julius suddenly appeared in the entry hall dressed in his three piece suit, his eyes glued to my exposed leg. "Pígaine kai állaxe." (Go and change.)

"Óchi. I chose this dress and I'm wearing it." (No) I would have chosen the dress with two slits, but unfortunately I had to cover the knife strapped to my right thigh.

"Not tonight you're not. You can wear it wherever the hell else you want - the supermarket, the gas station, the shower. Just not tonight."

"So I can wear a three thousand dollar dress to the gas station where I might get mugged, but I can't wear it to an upper class gala?" I frowned, trying to understand my brother's screwed up logic.

"Just take your security team, then you won't get mugged." He quipped back his answer as he grabbed my hand, attempting to drag me back towards the stairs.

Almost immediately I yanked my hand out of his grasp. He would never hold me tight enough to hurt me, so it wasn't that hard of a task.

"To foráo. " (I'm wearing it.)

"Óchi, den eísai." (No, you're not.)

"Yes, I am."

"Fine, let's see what Dad has to say." My brother was confident because he knew my father wouldn't appreciate my dress choice.

My instructions for the dress were classy, sophisticated and no skin. It's like the man wanted me to dress as a freaking nun.

"Fine, let's see." I stormed out before he could stop me. Unfortunately, I sat in the same car as my him, so I had to listen to a lecture for the next half an hour.

He rattled on about drawing too much attention to myself and catching the eye of the wrong kinds of men.

He was talking as if I couldn't protect myself. I knew self defence, I had a knife strapped to my thigh, and this gala was going to be crawling with security.

And if those two things didn't help, then my brother and cousin glued to my freaking side would do the trick.

Damian had come out to meet us at the car while my mother's security detail escorted her straight inside to my father.

"You know I'm a big girl, right?" I muttered to my two bodyguards as we entered into the large ballroom.

"Shut up and act like one then, Maleficent." It was my brother who threw back a snarky reply while Damian only chuckled to himself.

Instead of arguing with my bitch of a brother, I chose to take in my surroundings instead.

The ballroom itself was grand as hell, but it was the guests that really caught my attention. They were all dressed in the most expensive clothes and accessories. Bottles of the best champagne were being carted around by the servers along with finger foods.

I could feel eyes on us the moment we walked in, but I couldn't quite determine the emotions behind those stares.

Hatred, lust, admiration, jealousy, curiosity - it could have been any of them.

After all, they were all criminals of the same underworld that my family belonged to. Everyone here knew each other, unless they only occasionally attended these gatherings like me.

I think at least half of the criminals on the list Damian and I went through were in attendance.

As we walked through the ballroom towards my father, a few other guests nodded towards my brother and cousin in acknowledgement. I'm sure I saw some women giving me dirty looks after they checked out my cousin and my brother.

Do they really think I'm here with them as a freaking date? Ew.

"Dad." At the sound of my voice, my father ceased his conversation with my uncle to greet us.

"Agapité mou..." (My darling...) He smiled when his eyes landed on my face. Then as his gaze lowered down my body, his smile quickly faded. "I thought we agreed no skin. What's this? You let her wear this?"

My father turned his attention towards my brother who was scowling at me.

"You know she doesn't listen to me." My brother shifted the blame towards me. But my mother was quick to defend me.

"Her dress isn't that bad. She even has a sleeve." Having a sleeve was quite an achievement considering the sleeveless dresses other women here were wearing.

They were showing off everything God gave them. Although that was the kind of dress I wanted too, I think I would have truly killed my overprotective male family members if they saw it.

But, at least the dress would have been black so I could wear it to their funerals.

"Well, I think you look beautiful, agapité mou." (My dear) My uncle, Damian's father, gave me a genuine smile. "You're going to blow away your future husband."

This could truly be the first time I meet the man who I'll be chained to for the rest of my life. Underneath my three thousand dollar dress, perfect make up and unnecessary amount of perfume, I was nervous as hell.

"Isn't it better that we do this in private? Why does the first meeting have to be so...public?"

"A public setting is the best way to make a statement. You've gone for one of the most feared leaders in Europe, if not the world. When people see you talking, they'll know it's for marriage."

"And that's a good thing? Everyone here will know all about my personal life." I gave my uncle an incredulous look and he laughed.

"Yes, it's good. It will allow time for any other suitors to request an opportunity to meet you. Word will get around and people will know you're serious about marriage."

This whole thing is nauseating.

"I just wanted a quickie wedding. I don't need the entire criminal underworld knowing I'm for sale."

"You're not for sale." Julius scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, Maleficent. It's a deal. You get a good marriage and he forms an alliance with us."

"Well, you'll handle the business talk with him, right? I don't think I'm prepared well enough for it."

They taught me everything, but I just didn't feel confident enough to talk business with the leader of the Russian Bratva. I was more concerned about how this was going to affect me, not the other way round.

"Yes. Just relax, Mildred. It's going to be fine. Here, have a drink." My brother's eyes caught onto a server approaching us.

As soon as my eyes landed on the crystal glass filled with champagne, I'm sure hearts appeared in my eyes.

"No." And my father was the one to rain on my parade. "You're not here to drink, Millicent. You're here for business."

"Business." I grumbled. "Don't you think I could do with a glass of Dutch courage before I come face to face with the love of my life for the first time?"

"Ah, you're really getting into this marriage thing, I see." My father smirked, clearly choosing to ignore my obvious attempt at sarcasm.

"Just one glass." I pleaded, but the old man was sticking to his guns.

"No. You're here for work. The same rules apply to you as they do to the boys." He nodded towards Julius and Damian who suddenly seemed more interested in looking anywhere but my father.

"What do you mean? They always come home drunk after these events." I feigned confusion, biting back a smirk when their heads snapped in my direction.

"You little-" Julius's insult was cut off by my father. "Is that so?"

"It's after we finish, Dad. Once we've talked to everyone and dealt with any business that needs handling, then we have a couple of drinks to end the night." He shrugged casually although his eyes gave away how he felt.

He was nervous under my father's scrutinising stare, and he was furious at me for throwing him under the bus.

I guess it was kind of a bitchy thing to do since he sobered me up at my birthday party before bringing me home. But he deserved it for the dress fiasco.

"No alcohol tonight for any of you." My father glared at the three of us as if we were reckless teenagers. In fact, Damian was 29, Julius was 30 and I was now 25 years old.

We didn't get the chance to argue anyway. Soon, an older couple with distinct Irish accents came to speak to my father. For the next twenty minutes we had to stand there and maintain our sophisticated reputation.

At every chance I got my eyes were scouring the room, taking note of who was here.

I could see the Walker Crime Family from London. I could see the Japanese leader and some South American criminals too.

Then I recognised the Diaz family from Spain across the room. Damian had slept with the psycho brother, the sister, and then the mother.

"Is he looking?" My cousin leaned in to whisper to me. My eyes remained glued to the taut back of the tall Spanish psycho.

"No. He's talking to his sister, you know, the one you slept with?" I whispered back, bringing my glass of water to my lips.

Yes, water. How embarrassing.

"Have you seen her ass, Mildred? I couldn't help it." I could just hear that smug grin as he whispered in my ear.

"You won't be saying that when Psycho Miguel Diaz finds out you did both his mother and his sister after sleeping with him. He'll come for you, Damian."

"Let the bitch try. He wouldn't stand a chance; if anything, it would be some hot foreplay."

"You're disgusting." I shook my head, shifting my eyes away from the Miguel family.

"You're only saying that because you're a virgin. The day you lose it, you'll be coming to me to gossip all about it like a giggly school girl." He's only saying that because I don't have any girl friends close enough to gossip with.

Sure, I had a few and Zari was my newest addition. But they weren't close enough to know too much about my life and the Mafia.

Damian was the only one closest to know everything but more like a friend than a brother. Lord knows I could never gossip about sex with Julius.

"I wouldn't act like a school girl." I muttered, finally taking a step away from him so he couldn't whisper anything else.

If he said one more thing I think I might have started a fight with him and got us kicked out. For once it would be me getting us kicked out of places and not Damian.

"There he is - the love of your life." Julius nudged my arm, nodding towards the main doors.

I turned around just in time to see a large entourage of men coming through the door. Most of them were very obviously just security guards. They were all rather pale in comparison to some of the other criminals in the room.

As they came inside the ballroom in a fashionably late manner, the main leader of the Russian Bratva emerged from the crowd.

It was my first time laying eyes on him and I was pleasantly impressed.

He was tall, lean and intimidating. He had blonde hair and deep blue eyes and rugged features to suit his dark personality. He carried himself with authority but he wasn't as unapproachable as most of the criminals in the room.

"You like?" Damian's question had my parents, my brother and my uncle eagerly awaiting an answer.

"He's okay." I murmured, studying the man as he walked in with, who I'm assuming, were his right hand men.

"She likes him. This is the match of the century." My father grinned, apparently taking my guarded answer as a declaration of love.

"Calm down, Cupid. I need to talk to him first." I turned back around to face him, putting my back to the door and the Russian criminal.

"Well, it's a good thing he's coming over then, isn't it?" Julius hid his smirk behind his glass, eyeing someone behind me.

My eyes widened but I didn't get the time to compose myself before a velvety yet rough voice spoke behind me.

"Mr Darmos. It's nice to see you again."

He was so freaking close.

My entire body stilled and I kept my eyes on my father who was now looking at the Russian crime boss right behind me.

"You too, Viktor. Thank you for coming tonight. I know you said New York was a bit out of your way."

"Ah, well, it's not everyday you're summoned to an event under such special circumstances."

"This is my daughter Millicent. Millicent, this is Viktor Kozlov. Say hello." My father smiled, sounding like a freaking parent introducing his toddler to a-

"It's nice to meet you, Millicent." My name sounded cool in a Russian accent.

Focus Millie!

I finally turned around, coming face to face with an amused Russian criminal. He had two men behind him who also seemed rather amused at the whole situation.

I mean, I wasn't exactly standing in a good place. I had my back to him the whole time. Most people would have stepped aside and let him into our circle in the ballroom just to be polite.

"Hi." I breathed out. Then he rose an eyebrow at me and I realised I got the response wrong. "Oh, uh- it's nice to meet you too."

This is why I don't come to these events. When I get flustered, I get flustered. It's not good for my reputation as a respectable publisher.

Viktor greeted my mother and my uncle first out of respect before turning his attention to my brother and cousin.

"Julius, Damian." He nodded at them and from the lack of tension, I could tell they definitely got on - business-wise at least.

"How have you been, Viktor? It's been a while." Damian questioned him, coming off friendlier than I expected.

If they really do have a good relationship, that will be good for me, right? Perhaps I can bounce between living with both families? If Viktor isn't a control freak.

"Busy." Viktor breathed out a laugh. "We just flew in from Lisbon a couple of hours ago. I have the runway booked for midnight tonight to head to Paris."

"Well, I thank you for coming. I hope it's not a burden." My father smiled, sipping on his champagne.

"Of course not. I have some business to take care of later anyway." He smiled at my father before turning his attention back to me. "Would you like to get a drink with me? I'm not staying for the evening, I have other commitments."

"What, n-now?"

Smooth, real smooth.

"Yes." He definitely bit back a laugh at my shock. I looked like a freaking fish out of water.

I thought I had some more time before I would be forced to have a one to one conversation with him.

"Oh, yeah. Okay." I nodded, already planning to give myself an internal pep talk on the way.

He took the empty glass I was holding, handing it to one of the guys he was with. Then he took my hand, leading me away from my rather amused family.

I definitely turned back to glare at every single one of those traitors.

As Viktor walked through the ballroom, the crowds easily parted for him. I could see his security details watching his every move from the edges of the room. Some of them even eyed me with caution as if I was going to take my shoe off and stab him in the neck with my Louboutin heel.

I'd never waste such a beautiful shoe like that.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as we approached the bar. I knew there were a lot of eyes on us at that moment. Most likely everyone knew what kind of conversation we were having.

Viktor stopped at the bar, turning to smile at me. "What would you like?"

"A margarita, please." Screw Papa Darmos's rules. He put me in this position.

Viktor ordered my margarita and a whiskey for himself before giving me his full attention.

"So, you're looking to get married?" Wow these Russians are forward as hell.

"You could say that." I nodded, shifting my gaze away from his piercing blue eyes. "My father has always been clear what my role is in our organisation and now it's time I fulfil it."

"And you requested to meet me?"

"My cousin recommended you. You're were the least...problematic candidate out of all my options." I turned to give him a small smile, suddenly becoming nervous under his intense stare.

Now that I was away from my family, he was trying to figure me out. I guess he had every reason to be concerned by my motives. It's probably not everyday he gets approached for marriage talks.

"Problematic?"

"The rest aren't right for me or are a little...psycho." I couldn't think of a better word to describe the criminals around us. Rapists, human traffickers, pimps and secret sex party organisers. "My father has a good relationship with you, aswell. I'm led to believe it would be mutually beneficial. If it wasn't, surely you wouldn't have flown in to New York just for one evening."

Viktor eyed me, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the bar. "And what do you think I would get out of it?"

This is exactly what marriage talks were like. There were no questions about future plans and how many children one might desire. It was about what each party could get out of it.

"Maybe you're hoping for reduced prices on our products?"

"I already have a decent deal with your father. Try something else." He shut me down immediately, so I suggested the next thing up my sleeve. These were my bargaining tools that Julius taught me.

"Free use of our shipping routes? We have secure routes linking Asia and Europe which we charge hefty amounts to anyone who wishes to use them. There are very few checkpoints and border controls that we need to worry about. Your work across both continents will benefit with our routes."

He seemed to consider it for a moment, but it wasn't enough. For a few seconds he observed the room although I was sure he was thinking about the deal I was proposing.

"A lifetime commitment to a Greek Princess for free shipping routes? That's not worth flying to New York for one evening for." His eyes held a sense of mockery, almost as if he was suggesting free shipping routes weren't worth the trouble of marrying me.

He was toying with me, but I still I had to try something else. Perhaps I was too stubborn to go back to my father to ask him to negotiate on my behalf.

"You will have a strong ally in the Mediterranean region. I understand you've been having issues with the Turks and the Sicilian Mafia. If you form an alliance with us, you'll have Greece in your pocket."

"Lyubov, I don't need to marry you to form an alliance with your father." (Love)

I knew very little Russian, but I knew what that meant and I knew what he was doing.

He was reminding me of my place.

"If I wanted stability in the Mediterranean, I would have done something a long time ago. It just so happens that chaos in that region works better for me. But, of course, a marriage to the Leader of the Russian Bratva would definitely strengthen your family. That's a plus for you, but not for me. So I'll ask again, what would I get out of it?"

This time I was stumped, and a little embarrassed that I'd messed up already. He was intimidating as hell and left no room for error. He didn't like his time being wasted, I could see that already.

It's moments like these I'm glad my father kept me away from the men of this world. If Damian had recommended Viktor as one of the best out of my list, I can't imagine what the worst were like.

"How about you just tell me what you want? I'm sure a man like you has a list of demands. Like I said, you wouldn't be here if there wasn't something in it for you."

"Well, now that you so kindly ask." He teased, reaching out to pick up his whiskey when the bartender set it down. "I need an heir. As soon as we are married you will have my son."

My margarita almost slipped out of my hands I was that shocked. "Y-you...I'm sorry, your accent is a little funny so I must have misunderstood. Did you just say-"

"Relax, I'm just kidding." He laughed, completely at ease. "Well, not entirely. I will need an heir eventually but there's no rush."

He smiled, sipping on his whiskey with no worry in the world. Meanwhile I was ready to have a heart attack. I sipped on my margarita under his amused gaze.

"Just cut to the chase, Viktor. What do you really want out of it?" My flat tone indicated I wasn't in the mood for anymore games.

I'm sure anyone would have been killed for using a tone like that with him, but he couldn't exactly kill his potential future wife.

So he finally nodded, his smile being replaced with a serious expression.

"What I will get out of this marriage is my business. But yes, you're right, I do have my reasons for engaging in talks with you. But, from you, I need a wife who I can trust. You will have to give me all your loyalty. The Russian Bratva will become your family and your only family."

So I guess he wasn't nice enough to let me bounce between my family and his. A girl could dream, I guess.

"I thought that was a standard obligation in any marriage deal?" I frowned.

"It is, but it's not always easy to live out. It's not uncommon for a woman to get trapped between two lives - her new life and her old life. My wife has to be strong enough to leave her old life behind. I won't tolerate weakness."

"So that's all you want? You just want me to assure you that my loyalty won't be an issue?"

"Oh no, I will be sure to discuss your enticing offer of free shipping with your father." He smirked at the way I narrowed my eyes at his joke. "If you agree to my request, we can continue our talks."

I did have to think about it, even if I didn't have much choice in the matter.

The moment I said yes I couldn't go back on it. Unless a major issue arose and the agreement fell through, I was essentially signing myself and my life away to Viktor Kozlov on the spot.

But, I knew he was still my best option. Although he was joking earlier, it wasn't uncommon for a man to demand an heir from his wife. If I married anyone else, they might actually demand we keep trying for children until I finally give him a son.

That kind of life was what I wanted to avoid at all costs.

"I agree. My loyalty will be with you and only you."

"Excellent." He smiled, knocking back the rest of his whiskey. He put the glass down, signalling the bartender to bring the same again. "Would you like another?"

I was still nursing my first drink, so I politely declined.

"You're not a big drinker?" He smiled, finally asking me a personal question.

"I am, actually." I laughed. "But I'm here for work. My father knows what we get like when we drink, so he's put us on an alcohol ban tonight."

"So you're going to get in trouble now?" He grinned as if he liked the idea of getting me in trouble.

"As you said earlier, I'm a princess. I don't get in trouble." I smirked, completely lying through my teeth.

If my father found out I drank this margarita he'd have me woken up by Mrs K every morning for the rest of my unmarried life.

"So you like getting your way?" He's asking me if I'm going to be arguing with him throughout our marriage.

"Of course I do."

"You know we'll need to fix that, right? In this marriage, what I say goes." He had a light smile, but I didn't miss the edge to his tone. He wasn't joking.

"Good luck with that." I smiled, sipping on my margarita.

Surprisingly Viktor chuckled, picking up his second whiskey.

"I'm sorry I can't stay long. Do you have any important questions for me?" He leaned against the edge of the bar, facing me. The position gave him a good vantage point of the rest of the ballroom and the criminal guests of the underworld.

"A lot." But I had to sift through them to find the most important.

It wasn't uncommon for crime bosses to reside outside of their home country. My father runs the Greek Mafia but we mainly live in New York. I'm sure the Irish Mob also work out of New York too, and the Sicilians.

Perhaps he might be living somewhere warm and exotic like the Maldives or Bali?

"Where do you live?"

Please don't say Russia.
Please don't say Russia.
Please don't say-

"Russia." He grinned and I suddenly wanted to smack someone.

A whole new language, cold weather, angry people, Russian food.

I've never eaten Russian food.

"Do they have sushi there?" I frowned and he laughed.

"It's Moscow, not Siberia. They have everything, lyubov." (Love)

"So, hypothetically, we'll be living in your house in Moscow. Do you live alone?"

"Da." (Yes) He nodded.

"But you travel a lot?" He nodded again and I did my best to keep my expression neutral.

I was used to living in a bustling house. Now I was going to be living on my own for long periods of time in a foreign country.

"Well, I own my own publishing company, so that can keep me busy, I guess." I stated proudly, but he immediately shut me down.

"No. You can't work."

"But-"

"I can't afford to let you work somewhere else, even if it's your own company, and the Bratva is for men only. Working is an unnecessary risk to your safety. Women stay home."

I was usually so confident when I argued back, but for the first time in a long time, I felt too intimidated to even try. The look Viktor gave me was unexplainable. He was daring me to argue, but also warning me not to.

So I didn't.

"Okay." I nodded, averting my gaze towards my drink.

I knew I'd have to rethink this whole thing since the future of my company was now in jeopardy. But I also knew my father wouldn't accept me choosing my company over this marriage alliance - or any marriage alliance, for that matter.

"This is how things are in this world, Millicent. You might not be used to it, but you need to get used to it and quickly. I'll give you a word of advice." He knocked back the last of his drink, putting the glass down on the counter.

"Lower your expectations, for your own sake. These rules might be a shock, especially since I'm the first one you've spoken to, but other men are much worse than me. I have rules, yes - just like every other organisation. But I would never abuse you physically or emotionally. I'd never force you into anything you don't want to do. If you're too picky, you're going to find yourself in trouble, Millicent."

"I wasn't being picky." I shook my head with a frown, feeling defensive. "I just love my work. I started it myself and I've grown it for four years - I put my all into it. Plus, I don't like the thought of being stuck at home. I want to earn my own money. I hate the thought of a man paying for my things or anyone ever thinking I'm in this marriage for your money because I'm not."

I felt a strong need to clarify that I wasn't a gold digger or a spoilt Mafia princess looking for a rich husband.

Surprisingly Viktor gave me a soft smile when I explained myself. He seemed understanding, which was a plus.

"I know and I respect that. But it won't change the reality. I'm just warning you if you decide to look elsewhere for marriage. You have every right to consider other options, but I don't want you to get hurt. You're a nice girl and this world...it's a cruel place."

I forced a small smile onto my face as he stepped in closer to me.

"If you want to talk again, just let your father know. I'm sorry this was rushed and not...the most pleasant discussion. It just makes sense to do this part first. If you want, next time we can dance and talk about favourite colours and foods and biggest fears."

My smile became genuine when he leaned in to press a soft kiss to my cheek.

"I'll see you soon, Millicent."

"Millie." I smiled as he pulled back, his deep blue eyes meeting mine.

"Millie." He repeated. "I'll be back in New York in a few weeks. I hope to see you again." He flashed me one last smile before he left to go back over to his security guards.

As soon as he was out of sight, I released a deep, shaky breath. I turned back to the bar, ordering myself another margarita.

I needed the alcohol after that slap from reality. It was like someone threw a bucket of ice water over me - or the whole freaking Pacific Ocean.

My reality became clear in those few minutes while talking to Viktor. I was going to end up as someone's wife in a strange country, away from my family and my home. I was going to lose the business I worked so hard to build. I would have limited contact with my family and I couldn't have any loyalty to them anymore. They wouldn't be mine anymore.

They'd just be known as the Greeks.

I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this. But I didn't have a choice. It was my duty to the family.

I was midway through my margarita when I felt two people come up next to me. I kept my eyes on the glass, refusing to face either of them.

"You okay?" Julius leaned in closer to me.

"Hm." I nodded, barely able to form a sentence. I was trying so hard to keep my emotions under control for the sole reason that we were in public.

"Shit just got real, huh?"

"Yeah." I nodded, sucking in a breath when tears filled my eyes.

"Don't cry, Mildred. Not here." Damian pressed a kiss to my cheek, placing a comforting hand over my own on the surface of the bar.

The three of us stood there facing the bar while I finished my margarita, wallowing in the emotions I was so overwhelmed by.

~ Third Person's POV ~

"News just came in from New York, from that gala on Friday night. Viktor Kozlov is making moves to court the daughter of Nicholas Darmos for marriage."

On receiving the news, Aidan sighed, leaning back in his leather arm chair as he sucked on a Twizzler. A movie continued to play in the background of the office as he eyed Luca at the door.

Luca was the Enforcer in the Sicilian Mafia. He was the closest member to the three notorious Accardi brothers.

"You can leave now." Aidan's dismissal had Luca frowning - he didn't take orders from teenagers.

Unfortunately, he did take orders from the Don who left these two imbeciles in charge. So he left obediently.

As soon as the door closed, Aidan turned to his twin brother.

"That bitch is making a nuisance of himself." Aidan eyed his twin brother, Giovanni.

The two of them were the younger cousins of the Accardi brothers, and sister. They were 18 years old, but Aidan was older by 5 minutes.

"Who cares, bro? His girlfriend broke up with him and he's going through an emotional crisis."

"What?" Aidan frowned in confusion while staring at Giovanni.

"Luca. You said he's becoming a nuisance." Gio pointed out with a flat tone, keeping one eye on the TV.

"What? No, not Luca, idiot. Kozlov."

"Oh, Kozlov." Giovanni murmured. "I understand now."

"Costa left us in charge, Gio. What do we do?"

Costantino didn't really leave them in charge. It was actually his father - the current Don of the Sicilian Mafia - who insisted the twins be given some kind of responsibility while Costa was gone.

The Don overruled Costantino - the future heir and current Underboss. So his word was final - the twins would be given some responsibility in his absence.

The two of them sat in their cousin's office watching Black Panther playing on the flat screen TV. Costantino had only left earlier that afternoon on a business trip, but they had already made themselves comfortable in his office.

"So, Kozlov wants to marry some Greek whore. What's that got to do with Costa or La Famiglia?" Gio shrugged, dipping his own Twizzler in a Coca Cola can.

"What if Costa would be worried? Kozlov always has a reason for his decisions. He's planning something, he has to be." Aidan's suggestion had Gio frowning as he pulled out the cola soaked Twizzler.

"Like what?" Gio questioned.

"I don't know, but it won't be good for us. We've been fighting off Russian influence across Europe for years. If Kozlov allies with the Greeks, he'll have all their allies too. He'll also have a footing in the Mediterranean which is too close to us."

Aidan was always the more cautious and forward thinking twin. On the other hand, Giovanni was more relaxed and easy going.

"So what do we do, Aidan? Costantino will be back in a few weeks. If he thinks we should have done something, he'll kick our asses." Gio was also the one who panics after realising he should have done something instead of being so relaxed.

"We need to ruin it. He'll be happy if we ruin it." Aidan made his suggestion, now watching the battle taking place on the TV screen.

"Or he could be pissed. Like double pissed."

"If he's pissed we'll blame Lula." On cue the little cat meowed, baring her teeth at the eldest twin in a threatening stance. Aidan glared back at the cat who soon rested back down on the floor of Costantino's office.

It was Costantino's mother's cat. Other than Rosa Accardi, the only person Lula ever liked was Costa.

"Remember what Costa always says - get rid of the target before it becomes a problem." Aidan repeated the words that he'd been taught by his eldest cousin and the future Don of the Sicilian Mafia.

"We can't kill Nicholas Darmos's daughter, idiot. Then we'll start a war with the Greek Mafia." Gio scoffed, biting the Twizzler as he watched the movie. "Costa will sure as shit kill us if we start a war before he's even arrived in Asia."

Their cousin's flight only took off a couple of hours ago and they were already one decision away from bringing down the entire Sicilian Mafia.

"Okay, fine. We won't kill his daughter. But we need to stop the wedding." Aidan's comment had the two of them pondering for a moment before they came to their decision.

"Let's play Anti-Cupid, little bro." Aidan smirked at Gio who only glared back at the mention of their age gap.

"Five minutes. Tell him Lula, it was only five minutes." Once again, at the mention of her name, Lula sneered at the two Accardi twins.

Aidan and Giovanni 👀 What did you guys think of them? They're my faves! And Lula 🤣🩷

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