Guys!! Sorry for the late update! My surgery is in five days and I'm struggling to get my work done 🥲

The sound of the slap echoed around the room, my palm stinging from the impact. Costa's face turned ever so slightly and he lifted his hand to his reddening cheek.

Before he could react, I swung my hand again, aiming for his cheek. This time, he was ready. He caught my wrist mid-air, gripping it tightly. Shock and fury surged through me.

"Fuck you! Let me go." I glared at him, tears springing to my eyes as I tried to tug my hand out of his hold.

"Calm down." His voice suddenly softened, although the edge of anger was still prominent. He also spoke with a stern authority, immediately shifting the power balance in his favour.

It reminded me that I'd just slapped the Underboss of the Sicilian Mafia.

After what I saw tonight at the club, I knew Costa didn't tolerate disrespect from anyone. And I just crossed a line. But my anger and hurt at what he said was too much for me to even process any of the consequences yet.

"No." I continued to struggle against him, but he was way too strong for me.

"Millie, that's enough. Calm down." He said it again, the anger now outweighing the softness - like there was a constant battle going on between the two. At the same time he caught my other wrist, now holding onto both of them.

"Don't tell me to calm down!" I cried, my strength diminishing as I continued to fight against him, still wrapped up in the bedsheets.

"Come here." He pulled me into him, but I still resisted him. My desperation to get away from him increased which ultimately led to more tears.

"Shh." He whispered, pulling me into his chest as the tears came out faster. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, principessa."

He continued to apologise while I sobbed, the storm of emotions hitting me all at once.

How did we go from having our second time together to having one of our worst fights ever?

It was all my fault. But I didn't think anything like this would ever happen. I'd been so nervous to ask about our future plans that when I finally got the courage, I just did it. Granted, it was the alcohol that gave me the courage.

I think I drank too much.

Everything was so peaceful in bed, I just thought he'd answer with his guard down.

"Here." When he was sure I wouldn't pull away or try to hit him again, he let me go. He gripped his T-shirt, pulling it up and over his head. Then he helped me put it on, removing the bedsheet I'd wrapped around myself.

Once I had his T-shirt on, I fixed my hair, my eyes never leaving his. The air between us was charged, heavy with unspoken words, as if a single wrong move could ignite the argument all over again.

My ragged breaths and quiet sobs were the only sound as he came in closer, suddenly scooping me up into his arms.

"Costa! Stop!" I shouted, my voice coming out way raspier than I expected.

"Shhh." He got back on the bed, now clad in only his boxers. Just like earlier before our fight, he held me against his chest, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."

"I hate you." I sniffled, hiding my face against the warm skin of his chest.

"I know. Mi dispiace. I'm sorry." He murmured, running his hand through my hair. He continued, repeating his apology until I stopped crying so heavily. (I'm sorry.)

Despite my resistance, I still wrapped an arm around his waist, holding my body against his.

He didn't try to talk about it until he was sure I'd gotten my emotions under control. Then he gave me some water, forcing me to drink way more than I wanted before he finally addressed the conversation.

"Don't ask me stupid questions when you're drunk again, Millie."

Yes, that's how he broached the conversation. It was also the biggest tell he was still very angry - even if he wasn't showing it as much.

"Fuck you." I muttered, curling up against his chest. "I'm not drunk."

"Not anymore." I could just picture the pointed expression on his face, but I didn't look up at him.

"And it wasn't a stupid question. I just didn't think you'd get so angry." I spoke a little softer, the guilt and regret seeping into my tone. "I'm sorry for making you so angry."

I should have handled it better, but I didn't.

"Millie..." He was reluctant to even get into it, but when I looked up at him with tearful eyes, his walls visibly crumbled.

"Why?" He knew what I was asking. I didn't have to elaborate for him.

"I don't like talking about it." He stalled for a moment before he finally explained. "After my mother died, I didn't feel like I had a home. When I'm in Sicily, I'm surrounded by her - all our memories. But when I'm here... she's buried here, and her family is here - it kind of makes me feel a bit closer to her. But this is where she was killed."

Have you ever just had one of those oh fuck moments? Because that was how I felt when I realised just how badly I screwed up.

"Costa..." I stroked his cheek, feeling all that previous anger and tension melt away as we lay there. "Baby, why didn't you just tell me?"

"I don't know. I don't like talking about her. I know what you mean about settling down, but I just can't make that decision. I hate both places, Millie. Just for different reasons."

"Eventually we'll have to move to Sicily, right?" I was tentative, unsure how he would respond.

"Yeah, eventually." He admitted. "When I take over La Famiglia, we'll have to be there. But right now..."

"Right now, we need a place to call home." I finished for him. "A place where we can bring Lula because we hardly ever see her. Or, where we can keep the little things like our wedding album or my favourite shoes, and all our other important stuff."

My attempt at lightening the mood was successful when his lips twitched. "You mean your unnecessarily large collection of favourite shoes?"

"Mhm." I smiled, pecking his lips. He cracked a small smile, kissing one more time before getting back to the conversation.

He sighed, the conflict clear in his eyes. "I don't know if I can even try to settle in New York. But this is where your family is, Millie. I get that you'd want to be here more."

"They are here." I agreed, stroking his cheek. "But you're my family now. My home is wherever you are. It just makes sense to try New York now while you have more work here."

He nodded, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"I'll be traveling a lot." He reminded me. "And you have responsibilities in Sicily. It won't be easy."

"I know." I said, my voice gentle but firm. "But at least we'll have somewhere to come back to. Somewhere that's ours."

He looked away, the struggle evident in his expression. "It's hard for me, Millie. Being here, it's like living in a graveyard of memories. But Sicily...it's no better. The responsibilities, the expectations."

"I understand." I whispered, turning his face to make him look at me. "Costa, you know I hate Sicily. I never wanted to move there but I would do it in a heartbeat for you. We just...we don't have to decide everything right now. But having a home, a real home where we can be ourselves, might make things a little easier. It's not about choosing one place over the other. It's about having a place to breathe, to come back to."

He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching mine. Finally, he nodded, the resistance in his posture softening.

"Okay." He whispered. "We'll make New York our home for now. And when the time comes to move to Sicily, we'll face that together."

I smiled, feeling a sense of peace settle over me.

"Together." I echoed. "Always."

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

One week later

"How many fucking times do I have to say no?"

"Uh..." Aidan frowned, trying harder than ever before to concentrate with his tiny brain. "A couple more? I don't know. I don't know how to answer that."

"It was a rhetorical fucking question." I muttered, relaxing back in my seat as I drove behind my security entourage.

"Come on, bro. Just for a few days."

"Aidan." I gave him a warning look, shifting my eyes towards the rear view mirror momentarily. "I said no and I'm not your fucking bro."

I was already in a bad mood, but Aidan insisted on making it worse.

The four of us were on way back from a meeting which should have been conducted by Tristano. He was still in Sicily instead of being by my side as my future Underboss.

Tristano had been MIA ever since my father's birthday - the night he punished Rocco and I. For some unknown reason, my brother insisted on staying in Sicily instead of coming to New York with us. He was disappearing and slacking in his responsibilities.

As if I didn't already have enough going on, I'm now picking up his work too.

"Why don't you want Brianna to come?" Giovanni frowned.

"Bianca." Rocco and Aidan simultaneously corrected him. He could never get the name right.

"That's what I said." Gio waved them off, looking at me for my answer.

"I just don't need anymore teenage nuisances running around the apartment while I'm trying to get us through a fucking war on my own since Tristano is off doing fuck knows what." I muttered, my previous anger returning tenfold as I sped up, causing the engine to roar.

"She's not a nuisance." Aidan snapped, his green eyes sparking with anger.

"No?" Rocco turned in the passenger seat to look at him. "She must be if she puts up with you."

"Why are you two being so-" Aidan's stupid sentence was cut off by the sound of all four of our phones going off at the same time.

I knew already that only meant one thing.

"What is it?" I sat up straight in my seat, glancing over at my brother when he pulled his phone out.

"It's Millie." He replied, causing my heart to drop to the pit of my stomach. "She pressed her panic button in her office."

"Call her. Now." I nodded towards my phone in the centre console so that I could speak to her over the handsfree phone system.

While Rocco dialled her number, I took a sudden left, changing our route. I didn't care about my security team, my first concern was getting to her office building. The ones behind would know to follow me anyway. The others would catch up.

The ringing tone sounded around us in the car, my heart rate increasing the longer it went on. When we got her voicemail, I tightened my grip on the wheel, speeding up.

"Again."

Rocco called her again, giving Aidan an order to contact her security team from the backseat.

With the way I was driving, we were approaching her office building in Manhattan very quickly. And as the phone continued to ring, my anxiety was skyrocketing.

"Hello?"

The sound of her voice had relief flooding through me. However it also had me speeding up even faster, just to get to her before anything else happened.

"Millie? What happened? Are you okay?" I rushed out the words, my eyes snapping to her name on the screen and then back to the road. "We're almost there, baby. Just hang on."

"I...uh..." When she failed to give me a coherent answer, I asked some more questions.

"Is someone there? Do you know where your security team are?"

"Um...well..." She stumbled again, sounding extremely unsure.

"Fucking answer then." Rocco spat, surprisingly just as worked up as I was. The twins were now both on the phone - Aidan with Millie's head of security and Giovanni with mine. He must have been explaining the change of route to them.

I was ready to murder whoever the fuck thought it was okay to approach my wife in her office.

They were going to regret the day they thought they could cross La Famiglia.

And if I ever fucking find out it was Kozlov behind it, he's going to wish I-

"It was an accident."

.

.

.

"What?" I blinked, easing up off the gas pedal.

"I don't know what happened. I was organising some huge ass folders on my desk and then all of a sudden my entire security team burst in like maniacs, pointing their guns at me." She explained sheepishly, although irritation laced her tone. "Five of them are still refusing to leave the room."

From her tone, I could just imagine her glaring at them.

"An accident?" I asked again, still struggling to grasp what she just said.

"Yeah." Her voice as softer now, almost like she knew how bad this was.

At the same fucking moment, my father's name flashed up on the screen indicating an incoming call.

"Costa-" I hung up on my wife before she could say anything else. Releasing a string of curse words, I took a deep breath before answering my father's call with the button on the steering wheel.

"Dad?" I answered, my frustration still simmering beneath the surface.

"Costa, what the hell is going on?" My father's voice boomed through the car's speakers, louder than usual. "I just got an alert that Millie's panic button went off. Have you spoken to her? Is she okay? Are we under attack? I'll get on to Nicholas Darmos to let him know that-"

"Dad, stop." I pinched the bridge of my nose, now driving at a normal speed. "It was a false alarm. Millie accidentally hit the button while she was organising some folders."

There was a brief, ominous silence on the other end. I didn't even blame him.

I just knew he wasn't going to let this one go. Especially not since the entirety of La Famiglia would have got the alert that my wife was under attack in New York - especially while we were at war.

"So, you're telling me that our entire network just went into lockdown mode because your wife can't handle a few folders?"

"She didn't mean to-"

"I don't care what she meant, Costa! Do you realise the chaos she's just caused? Men are scrambling, resources are being diverted, and all for nothing?"

"I know, Dad, I know." I tried to keep my voice steady, but my own anger was threaten to boil over. "I put those procedures in place because I had to make her security a priority. I couldn't take any chances with her safety. Not with the war looming and Tristano MIA. I needed to be sure."

"Sure?" He barked. "Sure that what? That your wife's office supplies aren't out to get her?" His mocking tone had me clenching my jaw as I continued the drive to Millie's office building.

"Costa, you need to start thinking before you make such drastic decisions like this. The entire organisation is looking to you right now, and you can't afford to make rookie mistakes."

I gritted my teeth, feeling a surge of anger mix with my frustration. "It won't happen again. I'll make sure of it."

"It better not." He warned, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "You can't run this family with your heart, Costa. You need to use your head. Or else we're all going to be in deep shit."

Before I could respond, Aidan leaned forward from the backseat, somehow oblivious to the tension. "Hey, can you ask him about Bianca coming to stay for a few days?"

"Are you out of your fucking mind, Aidan?" I snapped, turning to glare at him. "This is not the fucking time-"

But my father had already heard him. "What was that?"

"Nothing." I said quickly, trying to steer the conversation back on track. "Just some nonsense Aidan's been pushing. It's not important."

My father let out a long, exasperated sigh. "Costa, I don't have time for nonsense. I'm dealing with the fallout from this fiasco. You need to get your house in order. Handle whatever that is, and next time, think before you go setting off alarms across the entire Sicilian fucking Mafia."

"I will, Dad. I-"

Beep.

I stared at the screen, stunned that he had actually hung up on me.

"Did he just-" Rocco began, a smirk already playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Sì." I muttered, gripping the steering wheel as I tried to hold back the ironic smile creeping up on me. "Just like I did to Millie."

Giovanni burst out laughing from the backseat. "Looks like the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, huh?"

I shot him a look in the rearview mirror, but despite everything, I couldn't help but chuckle. "Shut up, Gio."

Rocco shook his head, still grinning. "Guess it runs in the family."

I sighed, the tension slowly melting away, momentarily.

Ten minutes later the four of us made it to Rhea Publishing on the 19th floor of the office building. The rest of the floor was all empty at this time of the evening. It didn't take us long to find Millie's huge glass walled office - it was the only one with the lights still on.

As we approached, I could see my wife calmly sitting behind her desk, surrounded by stacks of folders. She was reading a document with her reading glasses on, clutching a mug to her chest.

It's also worth mentioning the five security guards standing around her office and the rest of her team dotted around the quiet hallways just outside.

They all kept their eyes down as we walked through, not bothering to knock as we entered her office.

"What the hell is wrong with-" Rocco started, but his sentence was cut off when Millie held a hand up, her eyes still focussed on the paper she was reading.

The four of us stood across from her while she calmly continued reading, sipping on her coffee.

It was almost comedic how long she made us wait until she finally gave us her fucking attention.

"Okay." She sighed, putting the paper down. She took her glasses off, relaxing back in her chair. "I'm ready."

"Are you being fucking serious?" Rocco scoffed, stepping closer to her desk. "How the fuck did you accidentally hit your panic button?"

"How am I supposed to know? I was leaning over and I must have just-"

"Where is it?" I cut in, my tone holding no room for anymore bullshit.

"Here." She put her hand over the top of her desk, indicating where the panic button was underneath. The small red button was always within reach in case she needed to press it quickly.

"Have it moved a little further down." I ordered my brother before sending my wife a pointed look. "Hopefully we can avoid a repeat of this."

"Or maybe she can just be more careful?"

"It was an accident. Anyway, I asked for a cover to be installed, but you refused." She glared at Rocco, reminding me of one of their arguments early on in our marriage.

"Because knowing your stupid ass, you won't be able to get the cover off in time and you'll get shot." He had a point. It was meant to be easily accessible in the heat of the moment. "Then we'll have more problems on our hands when we have to explain to your stupid family why you're dead."

Millie stood up from her chair, getting ready to lay into Rocco. "You little bitch, I-"

"That's enough." I cut her off, feeling my irritation spike. "Let's just go. I've already got a fucking headache."

"Fine." She grumbled, glaring at me for interrupting her. "Give me ten minutes to clear this up."

She gestured to the mountain of fucking folders that started this whole thing in the first place.

"You have two." I narrowed my eyes at her, dismissing the five guards who'd stayed in her office ever since she pressed the panic button.

They filed out, closing the door behind themselves.

"Then get those two idiots to help me put these away." She pointed towards the twins behind me.

I turned around, scoffing when I saw them demolishing a jar of Hershey's Kisses on a coffee table. 

If there's junk food close by, those two imbeciles will sniff it out.

They were completely oblivious to the fact that all eyes in the room were on them - at least until I walked over to the couch. My approach finally got their attention. Their eyes drifted down to my dress shoes, surrounded by scattered silver wrappers on the floor, and then slowly traveled up my body until they met my face.

"Basta. Aiutala a mettere via le sue fottute cartelle prima che io mi scagli a morte." (Enough. Help her put her fucking folders away before I go on a shooting rampage.)

"Why do we..." Giovanni tried to argue, but my furious expression had the words dying out. "Fine."

He took the fucking time to unwrap one more fucking chocolate, discarding the wrapper with the rest of them on the floor. Then he stood up, chewing way too fucking loudly as he passed me, heading over to Millie.

The twins helped Millie put away the huge folders, bickering with her the entire time because they couldn't do anything quietly and quickly.

Then we finally left her office, heading back down to the awaiting cars in the parking lot.

"The rest of you go in a different car." I muttered, heading to the drivers seat. "You're with me." I caught Millie's eye, nodding towards my car.

"Bro, why do we have to-" Aidan was cut off by Rocco smacking him over the back of the head, sending a wave of satisfaction through me.

"Hurry up before I leave you here." My brother glared at the twin idiots, heading to an SUV that was being driven by one of my security guards.

Once we were in the car, I could sense the awkward tension between us. My wife was never good at hiding her feelings and this was no exception.

She kept glancing over at me every few seconds like she wanted to say something but wasn't sure if she should. She was also extremely tense, wringing her hands together on her lap.

"So..." She broke the long and awkward silence.

"How could you be so fucking careless?" It slipped out before I could stop it, my mood still as bad as before.

"It was an accident, Costa." Her voice was softer now since it was only the two of us alone. "I didn't mean to."

"Fuck." I sighed, running a hand over my face. "I know you didn't, but you have no idea what just happened. The entire organisation was on high alert in case of a possible attack."

"I'm sorry."

She's made me too soft.

I'm not soft.

I need to kill some people. It's the only solution.

"It's okay, just...please, try not to do it again." I'm going to lose my fucking mind if this ever happens again.

"Trust me-" She scoffed. "-I won't be pressing that button again."

I didn't doubt it.

As soon as we got back to the apartment, the tension in my body returned tenfold. It didn't help that the place we were staying in wasn't our usual penthouse but an apartment while the renovations were being done.

It was a big apartment, don't get me wrong. But having the twins living here too made it feel like a fucking shoe box.

"Costa." Millie spoke softly, placing her hand on my arm as we entered the living area. "Let it go, okay? I know today was stressful, but we're home now. Let's just relax."

I ached to snap back - to tell her that relaxing wasn't exactly on my mind at that moment. But the way she looked at me with those big, soft eyes of hers made the words die in my throat. Instead, I sighed heavily and pulled her into my arms.

"I'm sorry." I muttered against her hair, breathing in her familiar vanilla scent. "It's just been one of those days."

"I know." She leaned up to kiss my cheek. "But you're with me now, and everything's fine. We're safe."

Safe from her fucking office folders.

I held her tighter, feeling the tension in my shoulders start to ease. Moments like these with Millie were rare, especially with everything going on. I needed to remind myself of what really mattered, and that was her.

"Alright. I'll let it go." I conceded, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. "But you're cooking dinner tonight."

Before all of this happened, my plan was to cook dinner for her this evening. We were actually on our way back to the apartment so I could get it done before she got home. Then my day got ruined.

She laughed, her beautiful eyes twinkling. "You and I both know I'm not cooking after the long day I've had. We'll order out."

Sounds good to me.

Just as I was about to kiss her, the front door flew open. In walked Rocco and the two idiots - the two of them as boisterous and loud as ever.

"So, I'm going to ask one more time now that all the chaos is over. Can Bianca come stay for a few days?" Aidan spoke with so much fucking confidence, completely dismissing all my previous rejections.

I immediately felt my temper flare up again. "No."

"Come on, Costa." Aidan persisted, glancing at Millie for backup. Millie, of course, was all too happy to jump in.

"I think it's a great idea." She spoke with a mischievous glint in her eye. I was about to tell him no again, but Millie nudged me hard in the ribs - hard enough to make me cough. I shot her a glare, but she just smiled sweetly at me.

"Of course she can come, Aidan." She said it before I could protest, her voice dripping with that irritating sweetness. "We'd love for her to visit, right, Costa?"

I gritted my teeth, but with Millie's expectant gaze on me and Aidan's hopeful fucking puppy-dog eyes, I knew I was outnumbered. "Fuck. Fine. She can come."

Aidan's face lit up like a fucking Christmas tree. "Thanks, bro! I mean, thanks, Costa!" He quickly corrected himself under my harsh glare, still grinning like an idiot.

Giovanni stood off to the side, clearly amused by the whole exchange. But I think Rocco was equally as pissed as I was judging by the way he was glaring at my wife.

"I'll let her know. She'll probably be here by the end of the week." Aidan was busy typing away as I nodded, already regretting my decision.

This apartment was too small for the five of us already, let alone adding Aidan's girlfriend into the mix.

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

Just two days later, I found myself seriously questioning every life decision I'd ever made. Bianca had arrived, and with her came a whirlwind of energy, chatter, and...giggles.

So many fucking giggles.

The twins adored her, and even Millie seemed to be charmed by her bubbly personality. The apartment felt like it had shrunk by half with all the noise and activity. Every time I turned around, Bianca was there, laughing, talking, or baking something in our kitchen, which only made the place feel even more suffocating.

Meanwhile, I was going insane.

Every time I tried to get a moment of peace, I'd be interrupted by Bianca's laugh or the twins' bickering - sometimes even with Rocco or Millie.

Or they just got up to the stupidest shit.

"Really?" Bianca fucking giggled again, a few seats down from where I sat, eating my breakfast. "I think we should do a taste test. Let's order a bunch of things off the menu and bring them here to try them."

That's exactly what we fucking need - more fucking junk food for the twins.

No wonder Bianca likes Aidan. She's just as obsessed with junk food as he is - and Giovanni.

"Fuck yeah." My cousin grinned, high-fiving his girlfriend. "Hey, can you pass the chocolate sauce? Oh, wait- nevermind. I'll get it."

I flinched when he dropped his fork on his plate with a loud clatter. Then he pushed his chair back, causing it to scrape painfully across the tiles as he leaned over the table, attempting to reach the chocolate sauce.

It was like dining with fucking children. No wonder Rocco chose to skip breakfast for the few days Bianca was staying here. I don't think he'd be able to keep his temper under control this early in the morning.

I was trying to read the newspaper like I did everyday while enjoying my breakfast and my coffee. It was one of the things I used to see my father do every single morning when I was a child. I didn't understand the appeal until I reached my mid-twenties.

Now at 29 years old, I felt like it was the calm before the storm. Every day my life was a fucking storm as my father's Underboss. It was a chance to get my brain in focus and ready for the day ahead.

But the twins and Bianca felt like ruining that fucking peace.

Millie walked in, still in her pajamas, and caught the look of pure misery on my face. She stifled a laugh and sat down next to me, her hand resting on my arm.

"You okay?" She asked with her thick Greek accent, though she was clearly enjoying my suffering.

"Not even close." I muttered, taking a long sip of my coffee. "This is hell."

"Oh, come on." She teased, nudging me playfully, her voice a low whisper. "She's not that bad. And besides, it's only for a few more days."

"A few more days too long." I grumbled, glancing down the table to where Bianca and the twins were now engaged in an intense debate - which is fucking better, fucking waffles or fucking pancakes?

Millie just smiled, leaning in to kiss my cheek. "You'll survive. Just remember, very soon all of this will be over and we'll be back in the penthouse. Then you'll have all the space and quiet you want."

She was right but it didn't stop me from still feeling the effects of the pure chaos around me.

I hummed in response, watching as she now joined their debate, somehow finding the energy to put up with them. Despite my fucking misery, a small part of me couldn't help but feel a flicker of warmth at seeing her so happy.

But that small part was quickly overshadowed by the realisation that I still had several days of this madness to endure.

And all I could think was that I needed to get that fucking renovation finished a lot faster.

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