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Question of the day:

Do you prefer warm weather ☀️ or cold weather ❄️?

Overwhelmed.

That's the one word I would use to describe how I felt when Costa's guards opened the doors for us in the underground garage of his building.

I stood awkwardly in the dimly lit, low ceiling garage where they were unloading our luggage.

Most of his men were staring at me like I was a potential threat to their precious boss but some were staring just out of curiosity.

Then Costa greeted some guy I'd never seen before with a bright smile and a hug.

The unfamiliar man was very tall and extremely muscular. He's the kind of guy you'd expect to see as a bouncer outside a club - intimidating as hell.

"Costa, dove diavolo sei stato? Non sei tornato da mesi." (Costa, where the hell have you been? You haven't been back for months.)

"Ho avuto altre cose da affrontare. Non ho avuto il tempo di tornare. Comunque hai continuato così, vero?" (I've had other shit to deal with. I haven't had time to come back. You've kept it going though, right?)

"Sì, naturalmente." (Yes, of course.) His grin was almost sadistic which only told me he really enjoyed the violent nature of his work.

They quickly launched into a long conversation in Italian while I observed my surroundings. There were countless black SUVs parked up around us for his security. There were a few fancy cars like Rolls Royces which would probably be cheuffer driven cars. Among a range of sports cars a glossy black Aston Martin caught my eye.

Beautiful.

Once the scary man was done greeting Costantino, his cold eyes shifted to where I stood just behind him.

"E' la tua nuova moglie?" (She's your new wife?)

Costa glanced back at me, releasing a throaty scoff. "Yeah."

On instinct I narrowed my eyes at him, trying to keep up my cool facade. On the inside I was feeling so out of place in his element surrounded by all of his men. That's not to mention the scary guy looking at me.

From what I understood, Costa had full control over the Sicilian Mafia's operations in New York. He was effectively the Don here and I was completely at his mercy.

Despite the hate-filled interaction between us, Costa reached out to take my hand, bringing me in closer to his side. Maybe he could sense how uncomfortable I was feeling?

"This is Luca. He's our Enforcer. After Tristano and Rocco, he's the man I trust the most."

"Enforcer?" I frowned, cautiously eyeing the man who was now grinning at me.

"I'm here to make sure people obey Costa. He's the boss, after all." I didn't miss the teasing in his tone which had Costa rolling his eyes.

"I am the boss and I can have you killed on the spot, Luca."

"What? What did I say?" He feigned shock but his eyes sparkled with mischief. "I'm merely letting your wife know that I'm here to remind people you're the top guy. No one messes with you when I'm around. Right, Boss?"

"Whatever. I don't have time for this." Costa sighed, tugging on my hand. "Let's go."

He guided me towards the elevator. On the way we passed Luca who was grinning at me like a mischievous child.

"Bye, Millie."

"Bye." I laughed, already excited to see him again.

Anyone who has the balls to annoy Costa definitely has the potential to become my friend.

Costa didn't let go of my hand until we were safely in the elevator and away from all of his men.

"Why are there so many guards? You don't have this many in Sicily." I questioned as he hit the button to the lobby floor.

"New York is more dangerous than Sicily. Too many other crime families hold territory here."

The fact my family was one of those reminded me that I'd be seeing them very soon.

I actually hadn't told anyone I was coming, even when I called Julius to tell him about Kozlov's threat this morning. I thought it would be a nice surprise.

I was excited, for sure. But I was also nervous as hell. I hadn't seen any of them since the wedding and things didn't end well with my father.

Plus, whether anyone likes it or not, I'm an Accardi now. My loyalty will be with my husband even when I'm visiting my family here in New York.

That was something I knew would cause problems eventually.

The elevator doors opening stopped that train of thought for the moment. I was instead mesmerised by the luxury penthouse I stepped into behind Costa.

While I stood there gawking he was already heading towards the main staircase in the middle of the open plan area.

In the back of my mind it was a reminder that I was stepping into his home as an outsider. Not his family's home this time but his home.

"Are you coming?" He didn't even bother to turn around when he threw that question over his shoulder.

Then I had to scurry to catch up with him, meeting him at the top of the stairs.

"Your room is down there. The rest of these rooms belong to my brothers and the twins when they come here." He edged towards a set of double doors while pointing to a door all the way down the hallway in the opposite direction.

"My room?" I frowned, noticing just how far away it was from his.

"Yeah." He was absolutely looking at me like I was insane for thinking we'd be sharing a room here.

"Oh. A-and you'll be in there?" I pointed towards the double doors behind him like an idiot.

This time he didn't reply. He chose to hold my stare for a few seconds then he sighed.

"Come on." He begrudgingly led me into his bedroom and once again I stopped by the door to admire it.

His room was dark and masculine - definitely the kind of vibe I would have thought he'd choose.

I guess since this is his own place and not his family's home, he can do whatever he wants with the decor. Every room in the house in Sicily followed a strict theme and decor. 

Costa immediately went over to a dresser and started removing his accessories. Meanwhile, I was still out of place figuring out what to do next.

His room in his own penthouse was his personal space. I felt like I was intruding by being in there.

"Where is my luggage?"

"In the other room. I'll have it moved tomorrow if you want." Bring three suitcases and a trunk in here just to invade his space and irritate him even more? No thanks.

"It's okay, Costa. I'll just sleep in there instead. I don't want to get in your way." He was busy un-clipping his watch when he turned to frown at me but he didn't say anything. So I took that as my cue to leave the room.

"Goodnight." I murmured, quickly scurrying out before he could say anything to make the situation anymore awkward.

As soon as I was out the room I exhaled a breath of relief.

Being around that man is suffocating - but sometimes in a weirdly good way.

I promise that makes sense in some kind of screwed up way.

He can take your entire attention  in a matter of seconds. He has the power to make you want to be around him, to hang off his every word. He makes me feel safe even when he's often the reason I'm aggravated to say the least.

Since I had the room to myself I decided to quickly unpack a few necessities and then take a much needed shower after our flight. The hope was that it would help me to relax enough to fall asleep. It did help, but not enough to rid me of the images I dreamt about last night.

The moment I closed my eyes in bed I could see it all over again.

I could see the basement. I could see Viktor Kozlov and his men. I could see his sadistic grin and the bloody knife he held as he told me all my family were dead - that Costa was dead.

It replayed over and over in my head no matter how many times I tried to shift my thoughts to something different.

A sigh of frustration turned into a gasp when my door opened across the room.

A tall figure approached my bed in the dark as I scrambled to the edge to turn on the lamp.

"It's just me, Millie." Costa came around to my side of the bed, reaching for my hand before I could turn on the lamp.

"What...what are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" He muttered, pulling back the covers. Even though he could have easily got in on the other side, I automatically shuffled down the bed to give him space.

The scent of his cologne was the first thing I noticed followed by the warmth and sense of safety he brought with him.

"Tomorrow we're sleeping in my room." He groaned, aggressively fluffing his pillow.

"Why?" I scrunched up my nose watching him struggle to get comfortable.

"My mattress is worth more than you, that's why." I wanted to believe his huff of annoyance wasn't because of my apparently crappy mattress but deep down I knew it was.

That also gave his act more weight. He was giving up sleeping in his bed to sleep in the guest room with me.

"Thank you - for coming in here, I mean."

Now that he'd settled down, Costa only nodded from his position inches away from me. This time it wasn't by choice. This bed wasn't as big as the ones we've shared. But he also wasn't making an effort to move to the other side either.

"Go to sleep." He murmured, his own eyes drooping after our long night of travelling.

<<<<<<< >>>>>>> <<<<<<<

Costa and I were used to tension between us. Whether it's fuelled by hatred, anger, annoyance - whatever it might be.

But we still hadn't learned how to deal with awkward tension.

I woke up pretty much on top of him with my head resting on his chest. One of his large hands was on my right hip and the other resting on the back of my left thigh.

And I didn't hate it.

I need to find someone to kill me before my heart ever softens towards this man.

I hate him, of course I do. But I can never understand the strange comfort he manages to give me just by being around me.

During the few seconds it took me to register where I was he'd already woken up. I can't explain the tension between us while we just stared at each other.

He didn't move and neither did I.

Our limbs were still tangled and my head was still on his chest. His hands didn't dare move from my hip and my bare leg.

Our faces were inches apart when I quickly sat up, suddenly determined to start my day at that very second.

I scrambled off him and out of the bed much faster than Costa, but he was also quick to get up. We didn't dare say a word as we went our separate ways - me going into the en-suite bathroom and Costa heading back to his room.

The next time we met was in the kitchen of the penthouse where I was rummaging through the cupboards for any breakfast items.

I heard him coming down the stairs behind me bringing that usual suffocating aura with him into the open plan area. With my back towards him, I was busy grumbling about this man's awful planning.

"You know, it wouldn't kill you to have someone stock up the food before you get here." He didn't give me a response so I turned my head to glare at him. "Since you're so rich, you could just hire a-..."

My sentence trailed off when I came face to face with Costantino Salvatore Accardi in all his powerful glory.

He stood across the island in his perfectly fitted suit ready to attend the most prominent of business meetings. Proud and tall, his muscles visibly bulged under his tailored navy suit as he stared at me.

Or, more specifically, stared at my ass.

I followed his gaze down to my fitted black dress which moulded to my body perfectly.

About to be paired with my Burberry coat and heeled boots, it was the perfect balance between formal and informal. I could wear it to work but also to go and see my family later.

Costa awkwardly cleared his throat, snapping his eyes to my face instead of my ass. Abandoning my search, I closed the cupboard knowing it was futile.

"I'll get them filled today. Let's just go out for breakfast." He stepped away from the counter to put some distance between us when I came over to grab my purse and coat.

This morning he's all over me and now he can't stand to be within a few feet of me.

"Do I look like I have time to go out for breakfast with you?" I scoffed, shrugging on my coat. "We already woke up late. I have to get to work."

Was it the fact I was rushing to work that caused him to stare at me like I was an imaginary creature or was it my reminder of our situation this morning?

It could be both knowing Costa.

"You're going to work?"

"Yes." Now it was my turn to stare at him like he was an imaginary creature.

Costa the Dragon.

Or Costa the Unicorn.

He'd kill me if he ever knew I thought of him as a unicorn.

"I thought you'd run straight to your precious little family." He rolled his eyes, now leading the way towards the elevator to leave the penthouse.

"I've been away from my company for three months. Of course I'd go to the office first. My precious little family can wait until later." I put extra emphasis on those words just to let him know his low regard for my family wouldn't continue to go unnoticed.

I knew he hated my family, he made sure his attitude showed that every time they ever came up in conversation.

"You didn't strike me as a workaholic." He smirked, pressing the button once we stepped into the elevator.

"Are you trying to make fun of me?"

"No, of course not. I'm just saying, you're a bit too much of a spoiled brat to be a workaholic. It doesn't go with your image."

Yeah, he's trying to make fun of me. Or just insult me.

"I'm not a spoiled brat, idiota."

"You really need to stop saying that." He muttered.

"What? I thought you'd be happy I'm speaking Italian." I grinned knowing how bad he hated me insulting him in his own language.

"So, are you walking to work?" He shifted the conversation giving me a pointed look. He knew he always had power over me and this was the perfect example.

"No, I need one of your cars."

Suddenly the elevator was filled with his boisterous laugh - a laugh I could secretly listen to over and over again and never get bored of.

"You're funny, Millie." He was still chuckling when the doors pinged open and he stepped into the same underground garage as last night.

"I'm being serious, Costa. I don't have my car or a driver. How am I supposed to get around?" I had to sell my new car I gifted to myself for my 25th birthday when I thought I was moving to Sicily permanently.

"Walk, subway, cab, bus." He suggested.

"Costa." My tone, dripping with seriousness, forced him to come to a stop.

His security were all working in the background to prepare the convoy that always followed him everywhere he goes.

Yet, he's okay with me taking the fucking subway.

"Let's get one thing straight. You will never, ever touch one of my cars."

"Well, I don't have mine because I was forced to move to fucking Sicily with you and all of that was your fault in the first place."

Considering where we were, Costa quickly stepped in closer to me. He lowered his voice, speaking through gritted teeth.

"We're not getting into that here."

"Then give me one of your cars. We both know you have too many to count anyway."

I was just guessing, but a man like Costa would always have multiple cars available at any given time. I saw a few last night but he also told me he spends a lot of time in New York. That means he'd definitely have some ready in this garage.

He's just being a selfish idiota.

Costa held my stare, his jaw clenched and his body extremely tense. "I'll sort something out. Just...just come with me today."

"I-" Before I could reject the offer, he flashed me a warning look.

"Millie."

"Fine." I sighed, pushing past him to head over to one of his cars in the garage. Since he hadn't chosen one yet, I took the opportunity to do it for him.

My eyes lit up when they landed on the same glossy black Aston Martin I saw last night.

"Oh, hell no." He echoed. His voice actually echoed around us he was that loud.

"What?" I pouted my lips, only two steps closer to the car before Costa lost his shit.

"Back the fuck up." His eyes followed me carefully as I inched closer to the car that I know costs north of 100,000 dollars.

"I mean it, Millie."

He's going to have a heart attack.

"Get the keys." I grinned, placing my manicured hand on the smooth door handle.

The action had the desired effect - he glared fucking daggers at me. It didn't help that he'd just specifically said I'll never touch one of his cars.

If I had time I'd definitely be that bitch and point out that I was currently touching his car. But I actually had to get to work so I couldn't basque in my satisfaction.

"We're not taking the Aston Martin."

"Why? It's a car - we need a car. I don't see the problem."

The stress of seeing me still touching his car couldn't have been good for his poor heart.

"It's for special occasions. It's not for me to drive your annoying ass around."

How rude.

"Get in the Mercedes." He dismissed me all together as he grabbed the keys from a locked cabinet, signalling for his guards to get ready.

With very little choice in the matter, I begrudgingly climbed into his immaculate Mercedes G Wagon.

"Don't make a mess." He muttered, eyeing the black Gucci boots on my feet.

"I'm not a child."

"No? Could have fucking fooled me." He scoffed, switching on the aggressively powerful engine.

The ostentatious roar had me rolling my eyes.

"I'm guessing you need such a powerful car to make up for your tiny little d-" The last part of my sentence was drowned out by Costa obnoxiously revving the engine. The sound reverberated around the low ceiling garage making it impossible for me to even hear my own thoughts.

"Costa! Stop that!" My reaction had my husband laughing to himself as he eased off the gas pedal.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" He smirked, putting the car into drive now that his security were ready roll out.

"Fuck you." I sighed, rubbing my temples to ease the growing ache.

"Here? But you'll be late to work if we fu-"

"Costa. I haven't had my coffee yet. Please, shut up." My demand prompted him to bless me with another one of his laughs.

"Okay, okay. We'll call a truce but only until we get you some coffee." The teasing grin on his lips had me shaking my head. I looked away to hide my own traitorous smile from him as he pulled out on the busy streets of New York.

We drove for a few minutes before Costa signalled for his guards to pull up outside a Starbucks. We both stayed in the car waiting for one of his men to approach the window.

"Your order, Signore?"

"A double espresso and a croissant. A large cappuccino with whole milk, no sugar and extra chocolate sprinkles. What do you want to eat?"

Costa turned to me expecting an answer but I was too busy gaping at him in shock.

"You remember my order?"

I told him my order the day after we got married. He was on the phone to Rocco and I asked him to deliver a Starbucks to me since we were in the middle of nowhere.

"Yeah." He frowned before gesturing towards his guard at the window. "So what do you want to eat?"

"Oh...uh...just a croissant too, please."

It's not often I'm lost for words but this was one of those few times.

Costantino was a man who'd hated me since the very second we met. He was infuriated by me to no end. Our entire relationship since we met until now was based on arguments, tension and bickering.

But he still remembered the coffee order that has, in the past, earned me the title of being too extra.

"H-how did you remember?" I broke the short silence that had fallen around us while Costa was busy replying to a text.

"Your coffee order? Why are you stressing about that?"

"Because you're not supposed to remember things like that about me. That's not how our relationship is supposed to work."

Costa locked his phone screen, tossing the device into the centre console.

"So you don't want me to be nice to you?" Amusement shone in his eyes while I was on the very edge of a breakdown.

"No! You're not supposed to be nice."

"So you want me to be mean?" He rose an eyebrow at me, a smile tugging at his lips.

"It's not funny, Costa. If there is one certainty in this life it's that you and I hate each other. It's staying that way forever."

"Actually, the saying is that death and taxes are the only certainties in this life." He pointed out with a matter of fact tone.

"Wait, really?" I frowned and he nodded. "Well that's stupid because we don't pay tax."

His velvety chuckle filled the car and he nodded in agreement with my very valid point.

His laugh was enough to have me momentarily forgetting what the point of this conversation even was.

"You don't have to worry, Millie. Me remembering your incredibly precise coffee order doesn't mean I hate you any less."

"Are you sure?"

He was still smiling when he nodded to confirm. "I'm sure."

He has a nice smile.

Someone kill me now.

That extremely traitorous and untimely train of thought was cut off by Costa's guard approaching his window. He handed him our drinks and our food.

Once I gave him the address, Costa started the drive towards my office a few blocks away. Meanwhile, I was waiting on my heavenly cappuccino to cool down while he drank his disgusting espresso.

He didn't even let it cool down a little first.

He's not human. He can't be.

"Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Because I can smell the bitter coffee from here." I scrunched up my nose while he drove. "Don't you feel like a psycho drinking an espresso?"

"No. Do you feel like a psycho drinking the world's girliest coffee?"

"What? It's not a girly coffee. Men drink cappuccinos too, idiota." I was astounded he could even think something so stupid, let alone say it out loud.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about the embellishments you put on top - something only a girl would do."

"Okay." I sighed, turning in my seat to give him an early morning lesson. "One - I'm not a girl, I'm a boss bitch. Two - adding extra chocolate sprinkles is not an embellishment, it's a necessity. Three - you're a dick."

"Mhm." I smirked, sparing me a short glance. "You started it by calling me a psycho, Millie."

"Yeah, because you are. You're a sexist psycho." I grumbled.

"A sexy psycho?" He rose an eyebrow at me, his smirk growing.

"Sexist, not sexy."

"No, I heard sexy."

"Well then your ears are probably still blocked from the flight last night. Or you're just stupida."

Did I just try to guess a new Italian word? Yes.

Did it backfire? Sort of.

"That's a feminine adjective, Millie." He laughed, following his guards to the parking garage of my building. It was one of those tall buildings in New York full of different companies on each level.

Rhea Publishing was floor 19.

"Whatever, you got my point." I rolled my eyes, unclipping my seatbelt.

After grabbing my purse, I turned to face my husband who was busy admiring the garage around us.

"Nice."

"That's the extent of your compliment? Just nice? I worked my ass off to be able to afford to work in this building."

"Yeah and it's nice. What's the problem with that?" He frowned although the amusement in his eyes confirmed he was trying to get a rise out of me.

He was just in that kind of mood.

"Just be back here at 6pm, maláka." His response was almost instant - his tone completely serious and deadly. "I'm not your bitch, Millie."

Not laughing now, huh?

I didn't say that because I didn't want to attend my first day of work in three months with no head.

"Then how-"

"I'll have a security team here during the day. When you're ready to leave, they'll take you where you want to go."

"A security team? Costa, I can't-"

"It's not a negotiation." I'm getting sick of him cutting me off. "Are you really that stupid to think I'd let you wonder around New York without any security?"

"Don't speak to me like that." I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Then don't be so dense. You're married to me. Look how many guards I need in this city. You're an easy target, especially with this attitude. You need to take your safety more seriously."

I shook my head, pulling the handle to open the car door.

"I do take my safety seriously. I just can't have your security lurking around a public building. It's not the fucking Mafia headquarters."

"Exactly. So it's easy for anyone to walk in." He was looking at me like I was missing his entire point as I jumped out his G Wagon.

"Just tell them to blend in then." With that I purposely slammed the door just to piss him off like he did to me.

I was still aware of his car and his security guards parked up as I grumbled to myself all the way towards the exit.

"Ilíthios, aftarchikós, elenchómenos, kyriarchikós, anenkéfalos malákas." (Stupid, overbearing, controling, domineering, brainless asshole.)

I was full of rage on my first day back and it was all because of that bitch.

He's so infuriating.

Of course I take my safety seriously. But his guards won't be as subtle as mine were when I was part of the Greek Mafia. I had three security details who would watch me from a distance but always blended in.

Costa's guards were the complete opposite. They never blended in. They made sure everyone saw them so no one would dare mess with their precious boss.

It's okay for him because his entire life revolves around the Mafia. It's rare he ever conducts legitimate business.

I tried to maintain a normal life while running my publishing company which meant my employees never knew I had security watching me at all times.

They didn't know who I really was and I wanted to keep it that way - hence why I named my company Rhea Publishing and not Darmos Publishing. That and I wanted to do something on my own and not ride on my family's coat tails.

I let out a sigh of frustration as I hit the button to the 19th floor. The doors to elevator closed and I took a deep breath to calm the rage inside me.

At least I have my breakfast to look forward to in my office.

A nice croissant and my favourite-

...

I forgot my coffee.

That painful realisation had me boiling with rage all over again.

So, there I stood riding up in the elevator on my first day back with a measly fucking croissant and no coffee.

I had an obnoxious security team watching me courtesy of my demanding new husband.

And, I'm positive I just felt one of those first period cramps that serves as a reminder you're about to have a week from hell.

The cramp also explained the fury burning in my veins - not that it helped me to calm me down.

PMS...the world's deadliest three letters.

I've always suffered with horrible periods and since I moved to Sicily, they've just been so much worse. It was Mrs K's magic. Her supplements saved me from years of suffering from raging PMS until I moved away from her.

The doors pinged open on the 19th floor and I was met with the logo of my company on the wall for the first time in three months.

The sense of pride I felt helped to calm some of the rage, but only slightly. I only got to enjoy the sight of my offices for the short walk from the elevator to my corner office.

Once I was inside that's when the reality of running a company caught up with me.

I had meetings to schedule with all my senior employees to catch up on what's been going on here while I've been gone. I had emails flooding in once word spread that I was back in the office. I had new manuscripts being brought in for me to read and I had three months of queries being brought to me.

All of that and I forgot to notify my assistant that I'd be back in the office today. She'd been helping me remotely while I was in Sicily so she had no other reason to be in the office.

So, I had to handle it all without my assistant's help and no fucking coffee.

It was chaotic to say the least.

<<<<<<< >>>>>>> <<<<<<<

"And there's no way we can save it?"

"Not that I can think of. Unless we increase the pay out, we're going to lose this deal." My Head of Sales, Lucy, replied to my question.

"We can't afford it." I mumbled, running my eyes over the financial spreadsheet for this quarter.

"Millie, if we lose this deal we-"

"I know. We'll lose the potential revenue. But we can't afford a bigger advance to the author and then the marketing costs. It could be another 18 months before the book is ready. We'll be putting our budget under strain."

We fell quiet for a moment before Lucy spoke up, taking off her glasses.

"We need to bring in more business. The only way we can afford to give larger cash advances to bigger authors is if we have more business coming in."

"We were doing fine a few months ago." Before I ever met the Accardi family my life was going well - I was happy and my company was thriving.

Now it's all falling apart.

"People are slacking now that you're not here." She didn't say it in a bitchy way but more as a mentor. Most of my directors and heads of departments were older than me which meant they brought way more experience with them.

"I'm doing my best."

"I know. But unless you're going to visit the office more often, they're not going to pick up their pace."

"You're Head of Sales. Can't you push the team harder?" That's the whole point of having directors in the company. I don't need to micromanage every single team.

"I can do my best. But, Millie, the authority needed in this company is missing. People are going to start thinking of next steps if this goes on for any longer."

I always knew it was a possibility I could lose my hold over my company if I moved away. But I didn't have a choice once my father made the deal with Edoardo Accardi.

The possibility of my company falling apart was something I knew I'd have to deal with if it ever happened.

"I'll do my best to come here more often. For now, you have full control over the sales team. You can implement any methods you want to boost their morale and output."

She was the third department head I'd had in my office that morning. Every single conversation ended the same way. They were concerned about the long term future of the company in my absence. So I ended up giving them more control to manage their departments independently.

It didn't bode well for my future, that's for sure. Giving up so much control was a recipe for disaster.

"Okay." She nodded, standing to her feet. "I'll draw up some plans and email them across for you to check."

"Okay. Thank you, Lucy." I gave her grateful look which she returned with a motherly smile.

"It'll work out fine in the end, Millie. Don't worry." With that she headed over to the door. As she opened it, a frantic young man was approaching my office door. She quickly stepped aside, allowing him to enter.

"Can I help you?" I frowned, sitting up a little in my chair at the sudden intrusion.

"Sì, sì." He rushed over, placing a take out container in front of me on the desk along with a large coffee cup.

"Grazie." (Thank you). He quickly ran out, leaving me watching after him in confusion.

Who the hell was that?

Shaking off the thought, I opened the food container to reveal four pancakes and a side of maple syrup, a berry compote and Greek yogurt.

The large coffee cup had a note stuck to the side with my name on. I pulled it off, unfolding the small piece of paper to reveal the single line.

You forgot your coffee, idiota.

I reread the note once and then twice.

Bringing the coffee to my lips, I took a sip of the hot liquid. A large cappuccino, no sugar, whole milk and extra chocolate sprinkles.

Costantino.

A slow smile spread across my face as sipped on my coffee again feeling my frustration and stress slip away within seconds.

And suddenly my day wasn't so bad anymore.

He sent her breakfast and coffee 🥺 I can't 🤧

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