I just surprised myself with a double update 🥹 Enjoy!

Second Question of the Day:
What's your favourite show?

Damian stormed away from me leaving me watching him through blurry vision and a pained heart.

Instead of returning to continue my unexpected fight with Julius, I headed over to my security team who'd watched the entire ordeal in silence.

They drove me back to my office building while I sent my brother a quick text to let him know I left. I wouldn't be surprised if he was enjoying his lunch in peace without the two of us.

I spent the rest of the day getting lost in my work hoping it would take my mind off the argument.

It didn't.

By the time I left work at 10pm, my eyes stung from tiredness and from blinking away the unshed tears all day.

This wasn't how I thought my homecoming in New York would be.

I sound like a fucking broken record. I keep complaining everything has gone wrong. I don't like to complain. It's not who I am.

But there's very little I can do right now.

Was I stupid to think the day I came back my company and my family would all be in tact?

Maybe I'd just be better off accepting my life as a housewife in Sicily.

Even though Costa gave me permission to stay for three weeks every month, I'd probably just spend most of that time trying to save my company.

At this point I could just throw in the towel and accept my fate.

That night he wasn't home when I arrived. It was a good thing though because of the meltdown I had in the bathroom when my period made its arrival.

Well, apparently she arrived much earlier that day. The bitch just didn't knock first to make herself known.

Have you ever just leaked everywhere? The mess looked like a strawberry donut had exploded.

As soon as I found all the blood that stained my panties I broke down crying in Costa's bathroom.

It just added to the worst day possible.

I was lucky I had some supplies prepared, but I wasn't actually smart enough to put a pad on. My white panties and I thought we had more time.

In the end I decided it was best to take a shower because I could save time by crying and cleaning myself at the same time.

I took my time under the hot water allowing the emotions to definitely get the better of me. I really hope my period is to blame and I wasn't becoming a weak bitch.

Okay, who am I kidding? Let's manifest this shit.

I'm still a boss bitch.

Hormones, crappy families, annoying employees and irritating mafia husbands don't change that.

I stepped out of the shower smelling an awful lot like my husband. I had no choice but to use his luxury body wash and the nice shampoo and conditioner set.

I didn't think guys used conditioner until I met Costa. But it makes sense because there's no way he could achieve such shiny hair without conditioner.

Padding to the bathroom door in my towel, I was lost in my thoughts of Costa's hair when I opened the door coming face to face with the devil himself.

I froze in my tracks under his heated gaze. His green eyes took in my exposed skin, his lips parting in surprise at my sudden appearance.

He was stood outside the door, still fully dressed in his expensive suit with all his accessories on show.

Considering we'd been married for three months, this was the first time I'd ever been caught in a towel in front of him.

Usually, I was lucky to avoid him.

I also knew in my gut that Costa wasn't the type of man to try and catch me in an awkward situation like this.

He proved that on our wedding night when he let me go rummaging through his bags to look for some clothes. He didn't turn around once, even when I dropped all his things everywhere.

Plus, I doubt he needed to catch me in a situation like this. He's probably getting enough from someone else to satisfy him anyway.

That meant this was an unfortunate coincidence. He clearly just walked in at the same moment I opened the bathroom door.

"Uh...h-hi." I stuttered, tightening my grip on my towel.

We still can't handle awkward tension.

"Ciao, Millie." (Hello) He smirked, eyeing my exposed legs.

Okay, maybe it's just me who struggles with awkwardness.

"As much as I'm enjoying seeing you squirm in that tiny towel, can you please get out of my way?" His velvety Italian accent thickened as he stepped closer. His movement caused me to instinctively step backwards, further into the bathroom.

"The other way. Unless you want to watch me take a piss." Costa's smirk grew as he came in even closer, now stepping over the threshold into the bathroom.

I scrunched up my nose at his suggestion, this time edging around him to switch our positions. My bare feet landed on the soft carpet while he stood highly amused in the bathroom.

Then he closed the door in my face.

"Bitch." I muttered, hating myself for letting him fluster me. It was only because of my lack of clothing - I swear.

A few minutes later I was fully changed in the closet when he ambled in, eyeing me weirdly.

"Did you drop ketchup all over yourself or something?" He mused, unclipping his gold Rolex.

Side note - this man has heavenly hands. Large hands, long fingers and veins leading to his forearms.

Heaven.

"Ketchup?" I turned to look at him with a frown until realisation very quickly dawned on me.

Someone please...a gun, a knife, a spoon.

Anything.

Just put me out of my misery.

My cheeks grew hot - like Sahara fucking Desert kind of hot. My hands became clammy and I'm sure my heart skipped a fucking beat.

Or it just stopped beating all together.

"Your clothes." He murmured, somehow missing the internal meltdown I was having. The walls of the closet were closing in on me very quickly.

"I...w-well..." I stumbled, looking anywhere in the closet but my husband.

What's happening to me? I think they're going to revoke my boss bitch membership after this.

"So it's not ketchup. Wait...did you kill someone?" He questioned with mocking gasp, his eyes lighting up with humour. "Naughty girl."

My mouth dropped open in confusion at his weird behaviour until realisation dawned on me a second time.

Not only because I only got blood on my underwear but because of the box of tampons I left in the bathroom.

He fucking knew. Of course he knew.

"One more word Costa and I swear I'll kill you."

"So it was bloo-"

"One. More. Fucking. Word." I ground out through gritted teeth, just daring him to open his stupid mouth again.

It wasn't surprising he burst out laughing, completely disregarding my very serious threat. "You should have probably picked your clothes up off the bathroom floor if you didn't want me to see."

"How was I supposed to know you were waiting outside the door like a creep?" I scoffed, attempting to regain some control. "I was going to change first then deal with them."

"Mhm." He laughed, slipping off his suit jacket revealing his fitted dress shirt. "Well, at least we know why you've been acting weirder than usual recently."

I wanted to give him a piece of my mind, but my attention was too focused on the weapons hidden on his body.

Now that he'd removed his jacket, I could see the two guns he had holstered on his hips and the outline of a knife too.

This man was already powerful enough to steal the attention of an entire room. That's without three visible weapons clinging to his perfectly sculpted body.

"Is eye fucking me part of your monthly symptoms?" His green eyes met mine in the mirror and he offered me his classic smirk just to get another rise out of me.

It didn't work so ha.

"I wasn't eye fucking you, idiota. I was thinking about how easily I could grab one of those guns and-"

"I don't think you want to do that." He turned to face me with that same smug expression. "Because if you kill me, you won't have anyone to go and get you chocolate and shit."

"You're going to get me chocolate? Really?" My deadpan expression had his lips twitching up at the corners.

"You won't have anyone to send someone to go and get you chocolate and shit." He corrected, his eyes sparkling with humour.

He's in a weirdly good mood today.

"And why would you do that?" I leaned against one of the wardrobes, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Can't we just pretend I'm a nice guy for two minutes?" For the first time since the idiota came home a traitorous smile threatened to break through.

"No."

"Okay, fine." He laughed with a nod. "I have to make sure you're in good shape for a little event tomorrow night. So, tell me whatever you need and I'll get it sorted."

"See. You're just being selfish. You've never done anything nice for me."

"I sent you breakfast and a coffee yesterday. That was nice." He pointed out.

"Who was the reason I forgot my coffee in the first place? Plus, you called me an idiota on the note, remember? You know, I don't think anyone who's ever met you would call you a nice guy."

"No, actually that's a lie. I can be nice to some people." He undid his tie, tossing it down on an arm chair before undoing his shirt buttons.

I shamefully admit I had to fight to keep my eyes on his face and not on his exposed chest.

"You're never nice." He might do somethings that can be considered nice, but he himself is not nice.

"Of course I am. I didn't kill you when I had the chance, did I? That was me being nice."

"No. That was you trying not to start a war by killing a Greek princess." I smiled smugly while he released a throaty scoff.

"Do princesses leave their bloody panties on the bathroom floor?" He's never going to let me forget it.

"Why are you so fascinated by it? Unless you have a blood fetish?" I cocked an eyebrow, enjoying the way his eyes widened at my suggestion.

"A blood fetish? Seriously?"

"Yeah. You're a murderer, after all. You love killing people. Maybe you have a fetish?" I shrugged, holding a back a laugh at his disgusted expression.

"You really think your period blood turned me on?"

"How am I supposed to know the specifics? It's your fetish, not mine." I shrugged, pushing myself up off the wardrobe with the intention to leave when he removed his shirt.

I don't think I can handle being in such a small room with those abs.

I took a step towards the door while he tossed his shirt in the laundry hamper.

"Oh, and I want both milk chocolate and white chocolate. If you even think about getting me dark chocolate, I will end up killing someone tonight, understand?"

"Yes, principessa." He laughed, undoing his belt buckle.

I took that as my cue to run.

Twenty minutes and one argument later, Costa handed me a bag full of milk chocolate and white chocolate.

Handed might have been an understatement. He threw it at me after it was delivered to the penthouse by one of his men.

Then he calls himself nice.

Idiota.

"You're such a hypocrite." He muttered, getting back into the bed next to me.

"Shut up."

"You just shouted at me for eating in the bed and now-"

"Do you have blood coming from your vagina? No. So shut up." I snapped, hitting play on the movie again.

Yes, we were watching a movie together.

Well, he was actually working on his laptop while I watched Tangled. But it was the closest we'd ever get to watching a movie together.

"Do you need to keep reminding me?" He eyed me weirdly, his eyes shifting towards my lower half for emphasis.

He probably thinks I'm just bleeding all over his bed sheets right now.

"It's the easiest way to manipulate you into giving me what I want. So, yes." I smirked, opening up a packet of mini Reese's.

So far he got me chocolate, caved and let me choose Tangled instead of the Godfather (ironic), and he ate his bagel on the couch instead of the bed. I don't like crumbs in the bed even if he claimed to be a 'Careful adult capable of eating in his own fucking bed'.

For some reason though, while I was smugly eating my chocolate he was looking at me like he knew something I didn't.

"What?"

"You think you're manipulating me?" He rose an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah." When has a Made Man ever watched Tangled? Manipulation, bitch.

"I've been letting you have your way. I can't be manipulated, especially by someone like you." He smiled, watching me shove another handful of Reese's in my mouth.

"Someone like me?" I spoke cluelessly through the chocolate in my mouth. He didn't answer. He just went back to typing on his stupid laptop.

"Costa?"

"Costa."

"Shhh. You're talking over the stupid movie." He smirked, snatching my Reese's from me.

With an annoyed huff, I dug through my bag to find something else to eat. I only managed a few bites before Costa stole that too.

"Stop." I whined, pointlessly reaching out to try and take back the white chocolate bar.

"I'm hungry." He mumbled, breaking another piece off.

"You should have got your own then." I unsuccessfully tried again this time giving him my best glare when I failed. "Fine. I'll give you some chocolate if you tell me what you meant by someone like me?"

He's got me curious. Sue me.

"No." He shook his head while handing me back my chocolate bar, only to snatch the entire bag from me instead.

"Costa!"

"You're touchy when you're bleeding." He laughed, rummaging through my bag of chocolate.

"I hate you." I grumbled, biting off a piece of the creamy white chocolate. At least I had that back.

"Mhm. Here." He tossed the bag back at me, opening a Hershey's chocolate bar.

"Don't touch it again." I held the bag close to me, turning my attention back to the movie.

Another half an hour passed by a little more peacefully once we got comfortable again. I watched my movie quietly while Costa muttered about how stupid it was.

I don't think he understood the importance of Tangled.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Her hair is fucking glowing, Millie. You're a grown-ass woman watching this shit." He was talking about the scene when Rapunzel's glowy hair saved them from the dark cave.

"Stop. You're upsetting me." I mumbled, snuggling further into the fluffy pillows.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you, my love. Please forgive me." Sarcasm. I hate that shit. Unless I'm the one using it.

"You're such a dick, Costa."

"You're such a child, Millie." He quipped back, mimicking the same tone I used.

"Tangled is a beautiful story. The fact you can't appreciate it just shows how small minded and cold hearted you are." I huffed, rubbing my palm over my stomach to soothe the period cramps.

"Small minded and cold hearted, huh?"

"Yes." I turned to glare at the man who was still scrolling through a document as if this conversation meant nothing to him. "All you've done is complain about it. You haven't even tried to understand the point of the story."

"Okay, so tell me." He suddenly closed his laptop, putting it on his bedside table.

"You're just going to make fun of me." I shook my head, continuing to rub my stomach.

Cramps are no joke.

"I won't. I'm curious to know why you're so obsessed with this shit." I could feel his gaze on me while I watched the movie playing on the flatscreen in his room.

"Rapunzel is special - she's a princess, even though she doesn't know it. Then she meets a criminal who shows her the world and teaches her about herself. It's an unlikely match, but it works."

I continued staring at the TV, explaining the reasons why Tangled has become my comfort movie. I'm a romantic at heart, even if I'll never experience this kind of love.

"They both see things in a new way. Even though he grew up as an arrogant thief, that doesn't keep him from falling in love with her. He even saves her by cutting her hair in the end even though he risks his own life. He'd do anything to protect her."

I turned my head to look at Costa, finding him staring at me intensely.

"It's because he loves her more than himself." My words lingered in the air followed by a tense silence. I couldn't bring myself to look away from his captivating green eyes.

Costa was the one to look away, awkwardly clearing his throat. He threw the covers off himself, getting out of the bed with a wry laugh.

"Don't get lost in fairytales, Millie. That shit isn't real." The slam of the bathroom door only added to the strange ache in my heart when he shut down any ideas of love as a fairy tale.

In the end I never got to finish the movie. Mostly because of Costa who was ready to sleep but also because I wasn't in the mood anymore.

I want to cry. Why do I want to cry?

More importantly, why does he have to be such an asshole?

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

"What? Fuck. Are you sure?"

It wasn't Costa's growls from the otherside of the bed that woke me up.

It was the cramps.

That's cramps with a capital C. It was the first full day of my period meaning cramps from hell were unavoidable.

It just so happened that when the cramps hit me, Costa was also awake arguing with someone on the phone.

"Rocco, don't test my fucking patience. Porta qui il tuo culo. Ho bisogno di te. Non mi interessa. Porta con te quei fottuti gemelli, allora." (Get your ass here. I need you. I don't care. Bring the fucking twins with you then.)

The sad part was I couldn't even take any pleasure in the fact it was Rocco getting his ear chewed off by Costa. A sharp pain caused me to gasp, flinching in the bed. My hand went to my lower stomach as I scrunched my eyes shut, hoping it would subside.

"Well, I'm giving you the responsibility. Bring them with you - you can't leave them in London. It's not up for discussion. I-" Costa's sentence cut off when I groaned out in pain, turning over to bury my face in my pillow. The pillow muffled any sounds I made, but it was enough to end Rocco's scolding, unfortunately.

"Sali su un fottuto aereo e basta. Ho bisogno di te qui stasera." (Just get on a fucking plane. I need you here tonight.)

I turned my head to look at him when those three beeps indicated that he'd cut off his call.

"Why'd you do that? I liked knowing Rocco was being told off." I pouted my lips, my face still pretty much smushed against the pillow.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing. What's wrong with you?" I retorted, fisting the sheet in my hand when I was hit with another cramp.

"Millie." He watched me with concern and mild irritation.

If he was irritated, imagine how I was feeling. I hated being vulnerable in front of him but that's all I'd been over the last week.

First the nightmare which led to us sharing a bed every night. Then I broke down crying after my first day back in New York. Then, to top it all off, he saw my bloody underwear and now he's witnessing the joy of menstrual cramps.

I need to threaten him with a knife or something to remind him I'm not usually a weak bitch.

"I'm fine, Costa. It's nothing." I felt like my uterus was being torn to shreds by Edward freaking Scissorhands - but he didn't need to know that.

"It's not nothing. You look like you're going to throw up or something."

"It's was your fault for getting me so m-much chocolate." I spoke through gritted teeth, hiding my face in the pillow again to avoid his gaze.

"Why do you have to be so damn stubborn all the time?" Despite the annoyance laced in his tone, his voice came out softer than I expected.

"Do you need some painkillers?" He got out of the bed, stretching out his muscles while I lay there watching like a doe eyed puppy.

"No." He stood, staring at me with that stupid look until I caved. "Yes." I sighed, forcing myself to sit up.

While he went into the bathroom to find some, I took the chance to quickly check the sheets to make sure I hadn't leaked all over his bed.

I don't think I'd ever recover if that happened. I think I'd turn in my Boss Bitch membership and retire to a monastery in Peru.

At least he'd never bother to come after me in Peru. Actually, I don't think he'd come after me anywhere. That was just a wistful thought of a romance I'd never have.

Thankfully the white sheets were still pristine so I didn't have to book any flights to Peru.

"Here." He tossed the packet on the bed while also handing me a glass of water.

"You don't have to do this, Costa." My voice was still thick with sleep as I popped out the pills from the tray. "I'll still come with you tonight."

"You think I'm only concerned about that?"

"Mhm." I swallowed the painkillers with some water, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. "You said it last night - you'll do anything to get me in shape for tonight."

It's rare Costa ever seems caught off guard - if that was even the best way to describe his expression. It was a mix of realisation and possibly...regret?

Who am I kidding? Costa would never show an ounce of regret.

"I didn't mean it like that. If you're not well-"

"I'm fine." I cut him off with as much of a bitchy tone as I could muster. "I don't need you to dote on me. I can handle period cramps without your help."

It seemed my bitchy tone did the trick. He clenched his jaw, his green eyes darkening ever so slightly from the frustration.

"Fine. Be ready at 8."

The truth was, I couldn't handle the pain I was in. I'd always suffered with the worst cramps until Mrs K put me on an extensive list of vitamins and herbal supplements that helped me. She also made a green drink every day with a bunch of health shit I could never remember.

She did give me the very specific list but I had no idea how to buy any of it in Sicily and I didn't want to ask the Accardi's for help.

Especially not for something that made me appear so vulnerable.

Maybe it was stupid, but the Sicilian Mafia were already so sexist in their nature. I didn't want to fuel that by crying about my period pain and asking for a bunch of rare health ingredients to help me.

I also wasn't welcome at my father's house anymore so I couldn't exactly go down there and ask her for help. She worked for my father, he'd never let it happen.

By the time 8pm rolled around, I wasn't doing any better. I only went into work for a few hours before heading home to take a hot bath and a nap. Then I had some painkillers with my soup before getting ready for the event.

It's safe to say my self care did little to help. Usually dressing up put me in a good mood. Instead, that day I stared back at my lifeless eyes doing one last check of my outfit.

My satin black dress fell to the floor with a slit high up my left leg. I opted for a dark green clutch and matching heels to add a little colour.

This little bitch is so fucking stubborn.

Seriously, I don't get it. If she's not feeling well, why is she pretending?

I'm an expert on reading people and Millie is an open fucking book. Every time another cramp hit, her whole body tensed. Sometimes she'd gasp or close her eyes to work through the pain.

Try driving next to someone who looks like they're about to pass out every few minutes but is too stubborn to admit it.

Unfortunately, I was also stubborn which didn't help the situation. I could have forced her to stay home. But after her little bitch fit this morning when I gave her the medicine, I didn't feel like being nice.

She didn't think I was capable of being nice anyway, remember?

"What kind of event is it?" Millie was the first one to speak despite the thick tension between us.

"It's not an event per se." This is the part I was hoping I wouldn't have to explain to her. But she never stops asking questions.

"It's not?"

"No." Did she leave it at that? Of course not.

"Then what is it?"

"It's a poker game with a few...acquaintances."

"A poker game? You're taking me to a poker game?" She's angry, isn't she? Always so fucking angry.

Now add her stupid period symptoms and she's ten times worse than normal.

"It's a high stakes game. Your presence is necessary." I tightened my grip on the wheel, flashing my headlights at my security ahead of us. They took the hint, speeding up in their SUV.

"Why?" I could feel the annoyance radiating off her in waves. She's suffocating to be around.

"These particular people don't like the Greeks. You being there will distract them so I can win."

"Who are they?"

"You know, I don't have to answer you, right?" She's forgetting who I am and who she is. She answers to me, not the other way around.

"You do if you don't want me to make a scene at this poker game by reading out all your cards."

She makes me want to kill myself.

I didn't even doubt her for a second which made it all worse. She would do it just to piss me off.

"They're...Serbs." I sighed, rubbing my hand over my jaw as I pressed harder on the gas.

The sooner we get to fucking the casino, the better.

I knew exactly what kind of reaction I was going to get and she didn't disappoint.

"Serbs? Fucking Serbs? Are you kidding me right now?" Her voice rose a few octaves, her Greek accent thickening as she turned in her seat to glare at me.

I could see her from the corner of my eye giving me her classic angry look. I'd become quite familiar with it since we met. Wide brown eyes sparkling with fury. Furrowed brows and a slight scrunch to her nose. Her perfect plump lips turned downwards, spewing whatever bullshit she can think of.

"My family are at war with the Serbian Mafia, you idiot! If I walk in there they're going to kill me!Skéftesai móno ton eaftó sou. Den skéftesai tis synépeies gia tous állous anthrópous." (You only ever think about yourself. You don't think about the consequences for other people.)

I signalled right, turning into the parking lot behind the casino in downtown Manhattan. Meanwhile, she was ranting away in Greek causing my ears to bleed.

I hate that fucking language.

"That's enough." I snapped, parking the car. "You asked who they were so I told you. Now you keep your mouth shut inside and do as I say."

"Seriously?" She scoffed, still visibly boiling with anger. "You're using me because I'm Greek and you think I'm just going to let you?"

"Sì. Maybe you can finally be useful to me instead of a fucking drain. All you've done is give me a headache since you entered my life." Right from the very second we met when she refused to move out of the way and let my brothers and I pass by on the sidewalk.

She's fucking stubborn and infuriating.

"You know, I really hate you."

"Good. That's how it should be." I responded, turning off my engine. "You have your knife, right?"

"Yeah. Will I...will I need it?" Apart from the last few days, it was rare Millie ever showed any signs of vulnerability. She's stubborn as hell. But the thought of the Serbian Mafia had brought out that vulnerable side.

I could see she was scared. Like I said, she's an open book.

"I'll keep you safe. You have my word." I would never let anything happen to her.

"Why are you even meeting them? I thought Kozlov was allied with them? Aren't you supposed to be at war?"

"No." I shook my head. "It's complicated. Kozlov has allied with them, yes. They're at war with your family. But we've never had a problem with the Serbs. We're not allies or anything, but when it comes to general business, we can stay civil for a couple of hours."

"So it's just regular business? That's all?"

"Yeah. I need something from him which he'll likely throw in as part of a bet."

She wordlessly nodded after that.

I got out of the car, leaning against it as my guards spread out around the perimeter of the casino.

I pulled out a cigarette and a lighter, using the nicotine to calm my mind. I couldn't go into a poker game worked up - especially not one as important as this.

But, despite her rant in the car being the reason I needed the nicotine, she was still the ace up my sleeve.

Aco Petrovic would never anticipate me bringing my wife to his poker game. Especially not my Greek wife. Her presence would unnerve him and his family who were all in attendance.

Millie waited quietly somewhere in the background as I finished my cigarette, occasionally checking the time on my phone.

I'm going to kill him.

"He'll be here in a few minutes." Luca sighed, leaning against the car next to me. "Did he really have to bring those two little shits with him? I hate them."

"Why?" I kept my eyes straight ahead, inhaling another puff of smoke.

"You know why, Costa."

The water condom.

"I wish I was there to see that.
Your stupid ass deserved it." I chuckled, my laugh coming out gravelly thanks to the cigarette.

"Fuck you." He nudged my arm just as three black SUVs came racing into the parking lot. Taking one last hit of my cigarette, I dropped it to the floor to put it out with my shoe.

The cars came screeching to a stop and the doors to the middle one opened. Rocco was the first to get out with the twins stumbling out after him.

"You're late." I snapped, my gaze settling on the twins' disheveled appearances.

"It's their fault, not mine." My brother muttered, turning to glare at our twin cousins.

"He wouldn't help us with our ties." Giovanni sighed, trying to adjust his awfully knotted tie.

It wasn't just their fucking ties. Their collars were a mess. Their shirts weren't tucked in. Giovanni's pant leg was tucked into his fucking sock.

They were a mess.

"It's not my fucking job to dress you." Rocco spat.

"You couldn't have just helped them? This is important and you're already late." Rocco was dressed to perfection while the twins looked like they'd been dressed by a toddler.

"You do it." Rocco snapped at me, taking an exaggerated step away. I rose an eyebrow at him getting ready to remind him who gives the orders around here.

"Millie can do it." Aidan quickly jumped in, still struggling to undo his tie. At the mention of her name, all eyes were on my wife who was watching the scene with a vacant look in her eye.

The prospect of coming face to face with the Serbs was still at the forefront of her mind and it didn't help my brother just turned up without warning.

Rocco hates Millie - somehow more than I do.

"Please, Millie." Aidan smiled, still wrestling with the stupid knot around his neck. His struggle caused her to release a breath of defeat. She put her purse down on the hood of my car, heading over to the twins.

She started with Aidan first, struggling to undo his stupid knot even with her nimble fingers.

"What did you do to this?" She frowned in concentration, trying to get her fingers in between the fabric.

"Gio tied it for me." At the mention of his name, Giovanni grunted. He'd already taken off his own tie but he couldn't get his collar straight.

"You're 18 years old and you guys can't dress yourselves?" She grumbled, finally loosening the knot.

"Don't be mean." Aidan pouted, reaching out to play with a ringlet of her curled hair. She smacked his hand away, handing his tie to Giovanni so she could fix his collar.

The twins were taller than her even in her heels, so while she worked, Aidan was grinning down at her.

She had her back to me which gave me the perfect view of her plump ass. She was wearing a satin black dress that exposed one of her slender legs. It hugged her in all the right places making it especially hard for me to look away.

That thought spiked my irritation again and had me itching for another cigarette.

Fuck, I need to get laid.

She finished straightening his collar and then tucked his shirt into his pants properly. After that she began expertly tying his neck tie around his neck.

Why the hell is she so good at that?

Once she was done with Aidan, she turned to Giovanni. He wasn't as happy to accept her help but he did it anyway.

"Conoscete entrambi il piano. Niente può andare storto stasera." (You both know the plan. Nothing can go wrong tonight.) I turned my attention to Rocco and Luca who would be coming inside with us.

"Tieni gli occhi su di loro per tutto il tempo. Non le si avvicinano." (You keep your eyes on them the entire time. They don't come near her.)

"Sì." Luca nodded obediently, but Rocco was the one who I was most concerned about. He's made his hatred for Millie very clear. He wouldn't care in the slightest if something happened to her.

But I couldn't risk her safety.

I needed to know he'd be there.

"Rocco." I urged.

"Fine." He muttered, his gaze shifting towards Millie just when she smacked Aidan's hand away from her hair again.

"I need you sharp to get those contracts. I can't risk losing them, Rocco." The stakes in the game were three contracts with the biggest independent casinos in New York.

These casinos serviced the rich and powerful. Securing their business would mean we'd earn a hell of a lot of profit.

The intel my men gathered suggested Aco was going to put these contracts up in the poker game tonight. He was always a risk taker. He used his biggest assets to attract players who he knew he could squeeze something out of.

I have a lot to lose but also a hell of a lot to gain which I guess is his exact plan.

The only difference between me and the Dutch idiots also turning up to night is that I'm not prepared to lose. I can't find myself in a position where I'm betting hundreds of millions of dollars or assets worth that amount.

My father would never allow it or forgive it.

I didn't plan on having Rocco here with me but changes in the guest list meant his presence was required. It was meant to be Aco and I until he invited some Dutch mobsters as a third party. That reduced my odds of winning already.

"Ready." Aidan and Gio spoke in unison, grinning like a pair of children.

They were finally smartly dressed thanks to Millie's feminine touch.

Rocco pushed himself off the car, his eyes following Millie as she grabbed her purse. She kept her distance from me, instead choosing to stand closest to the twins.

Once everyone was ready I released a heavy breath.

"Bene. Andiamo." (Good. Let's go.)

The Tangled scene is my favourite 🥺 I was so tempted to use it as the excerpt in the description of the story.

The next chapter at the poker game is a really important moment in the story! You'll love it 🤩