Sorry for the missed updates! I've been so busy preparing for my surgery in 13 days, plus I got ill and I also have to run my business 🥹 It's crazy preparing your own business to take time off for surgery.

Thank you to everyone who checked in! I love and appreciate you all always ❤️☺️

Anyway! Here is the next update! I hope you enjoy it ❤️

Question of the Day:
What's your favourite book (like a real published book, not wattpad 🥹)

Nurse fucking Millie.

That's what I've been called. And I should be paid for it too.

I spent the whole day tending to Costa and Rocco who were both in and out of sleep.

I'd stop my work to give them their medication, give them fresh ice packs for the swelling, dab a cool cloth over their skin when they got too hot and I gave them water.

Finally, around 3pm they both seemed to be waking up, keeping consciousness long enough to assess their surroundings.

"What the fu..." Costa's strained whisper had me looking over at the bed where he was staring at his brother's sleeping figure.

"Millie?"

"Hm?" I spoke loud enough that he'd hear me. He turned his head in my direction with a frown.

"Why is he in my fucking bed?" His voice was thick with sleep and mild confusion.

"He missed you." It was Giovanni who replied, a cheeky grin on his face when Costa's head snapped in the twins' direction.

They joined me at some point during the afternoon. They just wanted to rest, letting their hangover pass while they watched TV quietly in our room.

"Millie, get them out of-" Costa spoke a lot louder and he tried to sit up - both actions causing him to cough violently.

"Calm down." I rushed over, pressing him back down with a firm hand on his shoulder. "They're not causing you any harm. And besides, you're in no shape to throw a tantrum right now."

Costa glared at me, but there was a hint of gratitude in his eyes as he sank back into the pillows.

"This is...my bed, Millie." He grumbled, taking his time to form his sentence. "Why...does he have to be in it with me?"

"Because, I'm trying to take care of you both, and it's easier if you're in the same place."

At the sound of my voice, Rocco stirred and let out a groan, his eyes fluttering open.

"What's going on?" he muttered, his gaze landing on Costa. "Oh, it's just you. I thought I was having a nightmare."

"Shut up." Costa snapped, but the effort made him wince.

"Boys, boys." Aidan interjected, looking away from the TV. "Can we please keep the bickering to a minimum? Nurse Millie has her hands full already."

Yes, it's Aidan who has been mocking me by calling me Nurse Millie all day. It's also Aidan who is going to be meeting my knife sooner than he thinks.

He's been enjoying the situation way too much.

I sighed and shook my head, walking over to grab fresh ice packs from the mini-fridge.

As I returned to the bed, Costa and Rocco's eyes followed me, each with their own version of a glare. I placed the ice packs on their respective injuries, eliciting identical hisses of pain.

They're both so fucking stubborn.

"Do you want any food?" I asked Rocco first, maybe a little harsher than I intended.

"Not if you're going to poison it."

"Don't tempt me." I muttered before turning to my husband, softening my voice. "Are you hungry?"

The change in my tone earned me a scoff from Rocco.

"What?" I snapped at my brother in-law on the other side of the bed. Did he really think I'd be nice and caring towards him?

"Nothing." He muttered, although amusement shone in his eyes.

"Sure." Costa replied, his lips pulling into half a smile at the interaction I had with his brother.

I only left the room for five minutes to go and let Agata know they were ready for food. But by the time I came back, I regretted my decision to leave those idiots alone with my things - or, more accurately, my work.

"She should have given me a job if this is what I would have been reading." I heard Giovanni laugh.

My heart literally dropped when I realised what he must have found - the romance novel manuscript. I'd left the notes open on my laptop, completely forgetting about them in my rush to play nurse.

I'll never live this down - ever.

"She's been reading this all day?" Costa asked, amusement clear in his voice.

"Bro, look at this scene..."

There was a pause, followed by Rocco's laugh, which quickly turned into a groan of pain. "Cazzo. This is gold." (Fuck)

I took a deep breath and walked back into the room, trying to muster as much control and dignity as possible.

"Alright, give it back." I demanded, holding out my hand. The four of them were crowded around the bed so they could read through the notes on my laptop.

Giovanni looked up from the screen, a teasing glint in his eyes. "I didn't know you were into this kind of thing, Millie. This is pretty...detailed."

Aidan wagged his eyebrows at me. "Detailed is putting it mildly. You went all out."

I snatched the laptop from him, my face feeling like it was on fire. "It's by another author, I'm reading it for work. I didn't write it."

Rocco, still grinning despite his discomfort, leaned back against the pillows. "But you enjoyed reading it, right? It gave you a thrill."

"No, it didn't - not that it's any of your business. Now, if you're not in pain, be quiet. I have work to do." I headed back over to the desk, ignoring the four amused looks I was receiving.

"So touchy." Aidan grinned, heading back over to the couch.

"Millie reads smut. I never would have guessed." Giovanni laughed as he settled back onto the couch.

"It's for work." I repeated firmly, setting my laptop down on my desk. "One more word about it and I swear, you'll be lying in bed with those two idiots."

I glanced over at Costa, who was still grinning despite the pain evident in his eyes. He was loving this too much. His cute little grin was met with a glare from me. "And I can easily add a few more bruises to your collection. Or just suffocate you with a pillow."

"Kinky." My husband mused, his grin widening. "Did you get that idea from the smut you were reading?"

I hate everyone.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door, and Agata entered with a tray of food.

"Lunch." She announced, placing the tray on the nightstand next to Costa. "You're sharing a bed, would you also like it from the same plate?"

Costa chuckled, though it quickly turned into a wince of pain. "Nice to see you too, Agata."

Agata shook her head, her voice softening at the sight of them. "What has he done to you now?"

"Just a minor misunderstanding, Agata." Rocco grumbled. "Nothing we can't handle. There's no need to fuss."

One thing I learned during this whole event was that Rocco didn't like people showing him pity, at all.

"Minor?" She echoed, her eyes softening despite her words. "You two are lucky Millie is here to take care of you. Heaven knows you wouldn't survive a day on your own."

I smiled at Agata, grateful for her support. She walked over to Costa, smoothing back his hair in a motherly gesture. "And you, always bearing the brunt of it."

Agata knew how things worked in this house. The staff and the help always know - even in the mafia. They knew Costa was the heir so he'd always had the worst of the punishments from their father.

Costa sighed. "It's nothing I can change, Agata."

She then glanced over at the twins, who were attempting to blend into the background. "And what about you two? Still nursing those hangovers?"

Giovanni and Aidan looked sheepish under her motherly glare.

"We're fine, Agata." Giovanni smile. "Just a little under the weather."

"Under the weather." She scoffed. "More like over the moon with how much you drank. You boys are going to give me gray hair."

"Too late for that." Costa muttered under his breath, earning a playful slap on the arm from Agata.

I giggled at the interaction, covering my mouth when she looked in my direction.

She's kind of intimidating.

First she gave the twins and I our lunch which was a bowl of ravioli. Then she handed Rocco and Costa their bowls of soup since they probably couldn't stomach much else. I just knew Costa's bruised jaw wouldn't have let him chew easily.

Even while she gave them their lunch, she was still asking them questions, checking if they needed anything. Then she tried to feed Rocco which is when his tolerance of her fussing came to an end.

"I can do it." He snapped, much to her amusement.

"Bene." (Good) She picked up the tray, letting us know she'd back soon for the empty bowls.

As Rocco and the twins began eating, the room fell into a comfortable silence. The twins had turned their attention back to the TV, their hangovers seeming to lessen with each bite of their food.

Rocco was taking slow bites - almost like he was in and out of sleep between each bite.

"Hey." I smiled, sitting down next to Costa at the edge of the bed. I made sure to keep my ravioli with me.

"Hm?" He asked, lazily stirring his soup. I tapped his arm to get his attention, prompting him to turn his head just enough to look at me.

"Shall I help you?" I whispered.

At first he frowned, like he was instinctively about to reject my help out of pride. But then he let me take the spoon from his grip, his hand dropping down onto the bed.

He was so tired.

I spent the next few minutes feeding him his soup in between taking bites of my own food. We didn't interact any further, only when he put his hand on mine to stop me from feeding him another bite when he was done.

Then he went back to sleep.

I think he would have hated it if he was conscious enough to really understand what was going on. He just seemed resigned to it, like it wasn't a big deal because he was so tired.

As the afternoon progressed and the evening came, Costa and Rocco continued to slip in and out of sleep. They'd wake up for a few minutes, sometimes with a bit more energy or sometimes barely conscious at all.

I continued with their medication and doing the little things I could like applying ointment to their cuts and ice packs to their bruises.

Thankfully, the twins were here all afternoon so they were able to help take them to the bathroom. It saved me some very awkward moments, that's for sure.

"Hey." I was busy giving them their last dose of medicine for the night before bed when Tristano stepped into our room. It was the third time he'd come to check on them.

"Hey." I murmured, screwing the cap back on the painkillers.

"How are they?"

"Not good. Every time I think they're getting a little better, the pain increases again."

"It's the ribs." He sighed, stepping up next to Rocco's side of the bed - now standing across from me.

"Bruised ribs can take it all out of you. When you can't move or breathe without feeling that pain, you lose all your energy. The meds don't help either, they keep you drowsy as fuck."

He nodded towards the bottle of pills in my hand - the ones I found in Costa's medicine cabinet. There were quite a few bottles of them, like he'd stocked up on them.

"Should I stop giving them these?" I frowned, eyeing the way Costa and Rocco were barely conscious.

Have I been slowly killing them?

Whoops.

"Costa didn't want to see a doctor so I used what I could find." I tried to explain.

"No, those are good. They need them, for now at least." He cracked a grin, noticing my sudden panic. "A couple of days should be enough for the swelling to go down. Then just ease them off."

I nodded, appreciating his advice considering I was winging it completely on my own.

"You don't want Rocco to stay here overnight do you? I can take him back if you want."

"Maybe he should. It might be easier for me to-"

"No." Costa cracked open his good eye, indicating he'd been listening to the conversation. "It's your spot."

Why was that so sweet?

"I know. But your brother needs help too."

"Don't care." My husband muttered drowsily, closing his eye again. I guess that was the end of that conversation.

"I'll take care of him." Tristano laughed, patting Rocco on the shoulder - the action causing him to flinch in his sleep.

Maybe it's not the best idea to leave him with Tristano.

Well, Rocco deserves it for being such a dick. If he dies under Tristano's care, that's his fault.

Tristano called the twins to help him move Rocco to his room for the night instead. The twins also took Lula since we agreed it was better not to risk her jumping on Costa at any point.

That meant it was just Costa and I left - a single lamp softly illuminating our room. After I changed into my pyjamas, I got into the bed.

It was a strange feeling lying there next to him. I felt like I was alone, even though I technically wasn't.

He wasn't just asleep - he was pretty much unconscious.

I know our relationship had been chaos up until this point. I also know I was still mad about the whole virginity thing and what I overheard.

But that didn't eliminate my feelings towards him - they were still very much there.

It hurt me to see him so hurt that he wasn't able to keep his eyes open for more than a few minutes at a time.

He'd only eaten one bowl of soup that day.

He was covered in bruises that only seemed to be darkening as time went on.

He couldn't talk properly without wheezing or coughing.

He was hurting.

The emotions of the last 24 hours caught up to me while I sat there in silence - processing everything that happened.

It's not like I had much time. In between taking care of Costa and Rocco and working, I also had the twins with me all day.

It was the first time I was truly alone and as much as I needed a moment to breathe, I didn't want to be alone.

I wanted Costa.

I wanted his comfort because, ironically, he was the only one I wanted to comfort me while he lay there so hurt next to me.

I missed him.

Now that I was getting into bed feeling so alone, I missed our bedtime routine and getting into bed with him. I even missed the days when we weren't really talking but his presence made me feel secure and safe.

I missed bickering with him until he turned off his lamp and then eventually got off his phone - he's always on his phone at night.

I missed kicking him during the night when he got too close, only for him to call a truce - something he still does regularly. 

I missed waking up to his presence - even if he disturbed me before or after he went to the gym.

I missed his annoying jokes and comments.

I missed his beautiful green eyes.

I missed his smile.

I missed him.

I'd been so angry at him for the last week, but now I just wanted him.

I wiped away the few tears that fell from my eyes as I shuffled across the bed to get closer to him. Lying down on my side, I rested my head on my pillow close by to his.

I studied his face as he slept, aching to hear his voice. I sniffled, tracing my fingers over a tattoo on his chest.

"Am I being dramatic?" I whispered, taking in his battered face covered with bruises and butterfly stitches over his wounds.

"I miss you." I sniffled, curling up as close as I could to him without hurting him in any way.

The only thing that could be heard after that was my sniffles while I lay next to him. I took his hand and intertwined our fingers, hoping it would be enough to comfort him if he was in any sort of pain or discomfort in his sleep.

"I'm here." I whispered, letting my tears soak into my pillow as I lay there next to him.

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

The next days were spent exactly the same way.

Rocco only spent three more days in our room and then he was adamant he wanted to recover in his own bed.

But, it took four days for Costa to finally be able to slowly come off the medication that was making him so drowsy.

During those four days we were barely able to hold a conversation. He slept most of the day, only waking up a few times which is when I helped him to eat.

The only good thing about that medication was that he wasn't in as much pain and he slept more which gave his body time to heal.

But it meant I was pretty much alone for four days.

And I hated every second of it.

However, once he was off the medication he quickly got back to his usual self.

He spent a lot of his time trying to catch up on work. But, I refused to let him out of the bed until his ribs were beginning to heal. That meant I had Costa and his inner circle crowded around our room all day having their meetings.

I could barely get any work done with Costa, his brothers and sometimes Luca, nattering away all day. Also, with the twins causing chaos right beside them. Lula was also back in our room which meant she was demanding attention in her own ways.

The first day Costa and I finally got to relax and have our first proper conversation was exactly one week after his punishment.

The pain always increased in the evenings which meant I got to listen to him complain.

"Fuck. Millie, it hurts."

"I know." I murmured, running my fingers through his hair to comfort him.

"Just one more dose." He asked that question for the fifth, or maybe fiftieth time. Ever since I weaned him off the medication, he'd been asking for one more dose just to get some temporary relief from the pain - especially in the evenings.

The milder ones he was currently on weren't strong enough apparently.

"No."

"Screw you." That was the same reply I got, over and over again. I released a soft laugh, scrolling through Netflix while I continued lazily stroking his hair.

Costa had his head resting on my chest while we lay in bed - his choice, not mine. Apparently this position was the most comfortable for him so I just let him do it.

I was currently trying to choose a movie since there wasn't much else to do in our room in the evening. Costa didn't want to watch our show until he was well enough to concentrate properly.

"I'll pay you." He groaned, coughing as a consequence. My hand stilled in his hair for a moment, but he quickly settled down again.

"How much?" I asked, reading the description to some weird murder mystery movie.

"A million."

"Make it two million." My negotiation skills are really good.

"Deal."

"Really?" I stopped stroking his hair, looking down at him while he looked up from his place on my chest.

"Hm." I think that was a yes.

"No." I grinned.

"Screw you." See? Same reply, every time. "Wait, go back to that one."

"Which one?" I frowned, going back through the list of movies.

"No, you missed it. Go forward."

"Which one?" I asked again, now scrolling through the list.

"That one." He pointed at the fucking TV like I knew which one he was pointing at.

"This?"

"No, backwards." He instructed.

"Bitch, I don't know which-"

"Sì, this one." He cut me off when I stopped on the right one. He's kidding, right?

"No." I shook my head.

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes." He replied stubbornly, snatching the remote from my hand.

"I'm not watching the Godfather with you." I tried to sit up but Costa turned to glare at me, forcing me to relax again.

"I'm hurt. We're watching it." He snapped, hitting play on the stupid movie.

"If you're well enough to drink alcohol with your brothers, you're not hurt anymore." He did that this morning and then got an earful from myself and then Agata when she saw the bottle.

"It's the only way I could get rid of the pain because you're being a bitch and withholding my medication. Now be quiet." He muttered, turning up the volume as the movie began.

"You're just going to make it all about you." I sighed, resigned to my fate - I'd be spending the next three hours watching this stupid movie with Costa.

"No, I'm not." He did. He made it all about him.

He commented every time he disagreed with something or he thought something was factually incorrect. He'd comment about how the mafia isn't really like that, or they haven't done it justice.

Watching the Godfather with a mafioso is not an easy task. But he enjoyed it and it seemed to distract him from the pain he'd been in for the last week.

So, I relaxed back into the pillows, letting it happen.

The funny thing was I actually liked listening to his input - not that I'd ever tell him that. We rarely spoke about his experiences in the mafia so I liked listening to him comment on the Godfather, telling me how things actually are for a man living day in - day out in this world.

"The thing is-" Costa spoke during a particularly tense scene. "-they always make it look so glamorous. But in reality, it's a lot more...messy. And not in a cool way. More like a 'clean this blood off my shoes' way."

I couldn't help but laugh, imagining Costa ordering someone to clean the blood from his Italian leather shoes. I knew exactly what he meant - the messy side is made to look so much more glamorous in the movies.

"So, no horse heads in the bed?"

He released a breathy laugh, keeping his eyes on the screen. "No, not really. That's just theatrics. Though, some of the intimidation tactics aren't far off."

"Like what?" I asked, genuinely curious. I knew some of the general things from my own family, but the day-to-day details were often kept from me.

"Well, there are things like sending a fish wrapped in newspaper. It means someone sleeps with the fishes. It's not as dramatic as the movies, but it gets the point across."

"And does that actually work?"

"Surprisingly well." He replied, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "People know better than to mess with us when they get one of those. But it's not just about the threats. It's about control and power. We have eyes everywhere. If someone steps out of line, they know we'll find out."

I nodded, thinking about the power dynamics I'd grown up around as he continued.

"Do you like it? Being in the mafia, I mean."

"I do. I love it. But that's important because of the personal element. Friends and family are interlinked with your business. You can never really switch off. If you didn't enjoy it, it would be pretty tough."

He paused for a moment, almost as if he wasn't sure whether to continue or not.

"But you never know who to trust. It's not like in the movies where you have clear good guys and bad guys. Everyone's a shade of grey, and loyalty can shift in an instant."

"Did you...did you find it hard to keep friendships? Outside your family, I mean." Friendships have always been something I've struggled with which is why I asked.

When you can't trust people and you can't tell them who you really are, your friendship has a ceiling.

"Sì. I have a few friends, some of them know more than others. But generally, the people I'm closest to are all in La Famiglia. It's just easier that way."

"Did you ever wish you could just walk away from it all?" I asked, knowing it was a loaded question - one that could open Pandora's box.

I also knew I had my own experiences with this. But, it was different for me. Costa is the heir to his own organisation while I was always just a princess - the one who'd have to get married to fulfil her duty.

Our positions and experiences were so different.

"Once or twice, maybe after my mother died and then my uncle. But it's not that simple. It's not just about me. It's about my family, our history. There's a sense of duty and of responsibility. Walking away isn't really an option. I don't think I would ever consider it if I could though, I love it too much."

"I get it. My family... it's the same. The pressure, the expectations."

"I know all about those." He scoffed, which soon turned into a cough. I gently rubbed his arm, attempting to comfort him while he coughed.

The next scene was one of those huge family dinners that are regularly held among the top members of La Famiglia. I think this is universal across all criminal organisations - we had a lot of them in the Greek Mafia too. I just wasn't a regular face at the table.

"I know those family dinners are real." I rolled my eyes, thinking back to all the evenings I've been forced to sit through huge dinners among La Famiglia.

Even during our first months of marriage when we completely ignored each other, I'd often have to accompany Costa in the dining room. It was the only time we ate together at home - just for public appearances. They mostly spoke Italian so I didn't understand anything, though.

"Family is everything. Those dinners are where a lot of important decisions get made. But they're also about loyalty, keeping the family close. It's not all business, there's a lot of tradition and respect involved."

"So, all those scenes with the consigliere whispering advice? Is that accurate?" I questioned.

"Sì, that part's real." He said, his voice thoughtful. "The consigliere is the trusted advisor, the one who helps the boss navigate all the politics. It's a crucial role. Sometimes, the consigliere is the only one who can tell the boss the hard truths."

"Your uncle...the twins father...he was your father's consigliere?" I knew it was a sensitive topic, but he didn't seem to mind when I brought it up.

"Sì." His voice tightened, his body becoming tense for a short few seconds. "After he died, we took on his role too."

"It's a lot of work for you, Costa. You already have your own responsibilities and your training and now th-"

"If I try to get out of my responsibilities, you've seen what can happen." He cut me off, his serious expression soon morphing into a teasing smirk. "But I appreciate your concern, principessa."

"Don't call me that." I replied instinctively, although my voice was still soft.

"Ah, yes. You're still mad at me." He mocked, taking my free hand - the one that wasn't resting lazily in his hair. He gave it a gentle squeeze, intertwining our fingers together.

"I am." I muttered, keeping my eyes on the movie. But I let him keep ahold of my hand.

Costa didn't reply, probably because he knew I was serious. As much as the problems in our marriage had taken a backseat after he got hurt, that didn't mean they weren't there. We just needed to wait until he was better and then I could kick his ass again.

Thankfully, he just continued rambling about the movie so the atmosphere didn't become awkward.

These conversations were showing me how Costa's mind worked - things he wouldn't usually tell me.

He's very observant and calculating, that's for sure. He's always thinking, always knows what's going on in La Famiglia and within other organisations.

For this reason, I'm sure he always knew about the inner workings of the Greek Mafia - even before we got married. It's his job to understand how other crime organisations work and who is who - in case he ever deals with them or goes to war with them.

In the quiet that followed, I thought about Julius and Damian, about how they had grown up with the same pressures Costa described. I remembered the nights they came home late, exhausted and often hurt, having dealt with yet another crisis. The way they could never fully relax, always alert to the next potential threat.

Despite our different backgrounds, Costa and I were connected by the same elements of duty and danger.

Surprisingly, Costa managed to stay awake until the credits rolled. Then his eyes became heavy with sleep. I continued running my fingers through his hair, watching as he drifted off.

With Costa finally asleep, I turned off the TV and settled back, finally feeling more relaxed after seeing him begin to get back to his usual self.

I love their bond 🥺❤️ Even though Millie is still mad at him!

What did you think? Thank you for reading!