Guys I'm running out of drafts 🥲 I haven't finished the last ten chapters and now I'm panicking. I've got until chapter 43. Wish me luck! 🤣

Question of the Day:

Do you work better under pressure or not? 🥲

"Seriously?" Damian stared at me wide eyed. "He actually did that?"

"Mhm." I nodded, feeling all the same crazy feelings come back at the thought of that particular memory from last night.

~ Flashback ~

"Costa! Andiamo!" (Let's go)

"I'm coming!" My husband shouted back at his youngest brother while he scanned the room for any other items he might need.

Frustration laced his voice and I definitely understood why. He'd been rushed off his feet since he got back to our room.

"You've got everything. Your suitcase is all packed and your laptop and documents are all in here." I spoke, putting his leather hold-all on the bed - the one he uses as a carry on.

"My wallet?" He murmured to himself, patting down his pockets.

"In here." I patted the side pocket of his hold-all with a smile. "Relax, it's all done."

He released a heavy breath, nodding his head. "Thank you, Millie."

"It's okay. It's the least I could do after how busy you've been." Busy is an understatement. We'd been in New York for two days and I'd barely seen him, apart from when he picked me up from the bar.

He came back half an hour ago to pack his bag for his upcoming trip to Chicago. I was getting ready for bed when they all stormed into the penthouse with the intention of getting to the airport as soon as possible.

I could tell he was extremely stressed so I offered to do it for him while he took a shower.

"Are you sure you'll be okay on your own, Millie? I can stay or I can get the twins to stay if-"

"No. I'll be fine." I laughed, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "I have everything I need. A million security guards, panic buttons all over the penthouse and my office. Plus, it's only five days."

When I got married, the Accardi's got panic buttons installed in my office - one under my desk and some in other areas. The button would allow me to call my security team who were watching the building if I ever needed them.

I definitely argued with Rocco over the number of buttons tney had installed. But he didn't care.

"Well, if you feel worried or anxious or anything, ask Damian or Julius to come and stay here with you."

"You'd really be okay with that?" I never thought Costa would want Julius or Damian to enter his personal penthouse, let alone stay overnight.

"Well, no. I hate those stronzi. But if you want to then I guess you can." (Fuckers) He awkwardly scratched the back of neck, seeming very uncomfortable.

I couldn't help but laugh, appreciating his honesty.

"Don't worry. I should be okay. I won't let them violate the sanctity of your home." He cracked a small smile at my joke, nodding his head.

"Costa!" Rocco screamed again earning an eye roll from me and a curse from my husband.

"Fuck. I'm going to kill him." Costa muttered, picking up his bag. "Be careful, Millie. If there's any problems-"

"I'll be fine, don't worry. Go." I smiled, shoving his chest lightly. But he quickly caught my hand, tugging me in closer to him without warning.

He leaned in closer to me, his strong, woody cologne invading my senses. He lowered his voice, his accent thickening as he brought his lips closer to my ear.

"Don't miss me too much,–" He paused to press a short kiss to my cheek. "–baby."

At first I thought I died.

But then he stepped back, flashing me his signature smirk and a deadly wink to go with it.

And that's when I actually died.

I was so dead I didn't say another word as he walked out the bedroom, chuckling to himself.

~ End of Flashback ~

"Holy shit." Damian sat across from me in my office, still processing what I told him.

"Right?" I sighed, relaxing back into my leather desk chair. "He makes me want to pull my hair out."

"Or pull your panties down." My cousin grinned, picking up the pot of paper clips off my desk.

"Hey!" I snapped, heat immediately rising to my cheeks. "He does not make me want to-"

"Oh, hush." He cut me off, throwing a paper clip in my direction. "You're like an open book. You've got a crush on your husband." He said it so accusingly because he knew how bad this was for me.

I'm a boss bitch. Boss bitches don't crush.

"Look, it's understandable. He's sexy as fuck. I may hate that maláka, but even I won't deny how hot he is." Damian shrugged while he started linking paper clips together as a form of amusement.

"He's...alright." I sighed, completely lying through my teeth. "But that doesn't matter. It doesn't mean anything can ever happen between us."

"Why? You're married, Mildew. We might have all hated the idea at the beginning, but you're settling into it now. You can't change it, so you might as well embrace it."

Embrace it? There were way too many problems with that suggestion.

One - We hate each other.

Two - Costa is a manwhore. I don't trust him or his reputation for sleeping with countless women.

Three - I doubt he would ever feel the same way. He's just enjoying pushing my buttons with his suggestive comments and cheek kissing.

Four - We hate each other.

"I can't, Damian. If I let these...feelings grow, I'll just end up getting hurt. Costa isn't that kind of guy."

"But-" I put my hand up stop him from trying to get a word in.

"You told me yourself, remember? When we went through the potential marriage candidates, you told me Costa has a reputation."

"Yeah, but you're married now. Surely if you let things progress then he'd be faithful to you?"

"You don't know that." I shook my head, sorting through the documents on my desk. "And even if he's faithful for now, we all know the Sicilian Mafia are notorious for encouraging men to have mistresses on the side."

"I forgot about that." Damian sighed, continuing with his paper clip chain. "Do you really think he'd get a mistress?"

"Maybe not straight away. But there's nothing to say that in a few years he might decide he's had enough of me."

I don't think I could ever take that.

After giving my heart to him, I could never step aside and watch him be with another woman while we stay married. Especially if we have children.

It might work for other women in the Mafia who are just in it for the luxurious lifestyle, but not me.

"Ask him, Maleficent. Just be brave enough to be honest with him. If you're not falling for him yet, you will eventually. It's better to know now than to get hurt later."

I shook my head, already feeling my walls aching to go up. I didn't want to have this conversation with Damian, let alone with Costa.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore."

"Mildred." Damian sighed, pausing his paper clip chain for a moment. "You deserve to be happy. If there's even a chance that you and Costa could ever be together, you owe it to yourself to try."

"But...I'm scared." I admitted it for the first time out loud, finally confronting the feelings head on.

I did feel something towards him, but I was too scared to let it grow.

I already had my life ripped apart when I married him. We were only just getting to a good place where life was becoming bearable again.

If I ruined it with a stupid crush or by saying the wrong thing to him, it could ruin things for good.

Then we'd be trapped.

"It's okay to be scared, Maleficent." He gave me a soft smile, returning back to his paper clips. "But you also need to be brave. You deserve your happy ending and it won't come if you're a weak bitch."

I acknowledged his words with a nod, once again losing myself in the thoughts about Costa and our marriage.

Would he really be faithful to me?

He had a reputation, anyone who has ever met him knows that. I have no idea how many women he's even slept with since we got married four months ago. It could be a lot considering the amount of time we spent without saying a word to each other.

Now he's away in Chicago and I have no idea what he's doing - or who he's doing.

Could he really ever have feelings for me and then be faithful to me?I'm not so sure - it's two miracles I can't imagine happening for me.

It's a dream to me to be married and in love. I always knew growing up it wouldn't happen because of who I was and the family I was born into. It was the price I paid for such a luxury lifestyle - I wouldn't get my happy ever after.

"Do you have anymore paper clips?" My cousin broke through my thoughts just as an email popped up on my screen.

"No."

"But I need more." He held up his paper clip chain for emphasis.

"Go and ask my assistant." I waved him towards the door as I clicked on the email. I was busy skim reading it while he huffed, trudging out of my office to go and bother my assistant.

You've been nominated.

Young publishers award.

Friday 8th November.

I read it once and then twice and then a third time just to be sure.

"I got the papercl-" Damien's sentence was cut off by the squeal that erupted from me. "What the fuck? They're just papercl-"

"I've been nominated!" I jumped off my chair, excitement flooding through me. "Damian they nominated me for the award!"

"What fucking award?" My cousin came over to my desk, putting his pot of paper clips down so he could read my email.

I covered my mouth in shock, staring at the email that was currently displayed on my screen.

It was something I never even thought would happen to me.

Out of all the publishers in New York, I never thought for a second I would be selected to be up for the award.

This award was reserved for the top class of publishers. It was the stepping stone from being just someone in the industry to becoming that publisher.

It was everything.

"Holy shit." Damian whispered, turning to look me. "They chose you."

I nodded excitedly, my eyes flitting between my cousin and the computer screen.

"Congratulations, Millie." Damian smiled, opening his arms up for a hug which I gleefully accepted.

Elated.

There's no other word to describe how I felt. Finally something good was happening after all the marriage drama which so badly impacted my company.

I almost lost everything when it all began to suffer during the months I spent away. I even had to give up more and more control to senior management just to keep it all going.

I thought it was over.

But it's all working out. It was a sign to me that I could be married, juggle my responsibilities to the mafia, and still be a boss bitch with my company.

I was doing it - slowly but surely.

"I'm so proud of you, Mildred." Damian smiled, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "So fucking proud."

"Thank you, Damy." I smiled, giving him one last hug before I turned back to read the rest of the email.

"It says the publishing awards ceremony is at a hotel in Manhattan. It's a gala and I can bring a plus one."

"Can I come?" Damian grinned, apparently thinking he was plus one material.

He's not plus one material - not with the way he flirts with anything that moves.

"No." I immediately shook my head, taking my seat at my desk again.

"What? Why not?" He scoffed, picking up his paper clips on his way back to his chair across from me.

"Costa is coming back that day. I want to ask him." Asking my husband to come was better than my bi cousin who would abandon me for anyone - young or old, female or male, blonde or brunette.

He didn't care.

"Ah. So you're taking my advice? You're going for it?" He smirked knowingly, pouring the mountain of paper clips on my desk.

"No, I'm not going for it. It's a super formal event. I just think it's better I take my husband, you know, since I'm married."

"You're going to ask him to undo your dress afterwards, aren't you?" He smirked, adding another paper clip to his stupid chain.

Someone kill me now.

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

For the next four days I was nervous as hell. I don't think I'd ever wanted something so much, even though I didn't know I actually wanted it until I got the email. I mean, I wanted it but it always seemed so far out of my reach that I never really thought about it.

Does that even make sense?

Whatever, it makes sense to me.

I threw myself into my work to try and forget about the fact this award could boost my career and my company in ways I never anticipated.

I also went out with Damian twice - which was never part of my plan during those few days.

Costa allowed me to spend more of my time in New York because of my work. Not because Damian was lonely and needed someone to go drinking with him as his wingwoman.

I tried to explain it to him, but my insufferable cousin wouldn't take no for an answer. Unfortunately, I wasn't strong enough to keep declining his offer in my nervous state. So I eventually caved - twice.

That's also how I ended up hungover the morning of the event.

And how I completely slept through Costa coming home early that morning.

I got home at 8am and she didn't even flinch.

Seriously, she was that out of it. I managed to unpack my suitcase and take a shower and she didn't move.

I didn't even need to check in with her security to know she'd been out drinking the night before.

Well, I did check in with her security - every day, actually. But my point is, it was obvious she'd been out the night before. Her dress and heels were on the floor in the middle of the room when I walked in. From what I could tell she was only wearing her underwear in bed - unfortunately for Little Costa. Plus, she had make up smeared all over the white sheets.

It was around 11am when she finally started stirring in the bed. I'd just finished getting changed after having breakfast downstairs when she woke up.

The sound of my closet door closing caused her to flinch and she immediately sat up, looking around the room with squinted eyes.

"It's just me, Millie." I whispered, carrying my shoes over to the bed.

"C-Costa? But...you're not supposed to get back till Friday."

"Today is Friday." I smiled, sitting down next to her while she studied the room like she'd never seen it before.

"It is?" She frowned, now looking down at the satin bedsheets while her mind caught up with reality.

I gave her a second to wake up properly while I tied my laces, already planning to get her some water and painkillers next.

"It's Friday?" She frowned, asking the same question again. This time I nodded, standing to my feet.

"Sì."

"Oh shit." She muttered, her eyes widening. "It's Friday."

"Did you have something important planned?" I laughed, heading into the bathroom to get her a glass of water. When I returned she was staring at the bedsheets again, this time covering her mouth - almost in shock or worry.

"Millie? Is everything okay? You didn't answer." I frowned, putting the items down on her nightstand.

"I have an event tonight. It's an awards ceremony." She murmured, giving me a grateful look as she picked up the water and pills.

"An award? For what?"

"I was nominated for Young Publisher of the Year." It does sound good, but I can't say I've ever heard of it. But then, in my line of work, the only award I know of is being able to keep your head for another day.

"Is that a big deal?" I questioned, sitting back down next to her again.

"Yeah. It's one of the best awards you could get as a growing publisher. But, it's not for the company. It's an individual one for me."

"Congratulations, Millie." I knew how hard she'd been working on her company. This woman took a very long business call on our wedding night because she was that dedicated. So I knew how big this was for her.

"Thank you." Even though she looked utterly exhausted by the thought of this award ceremony in her current hungover state, an excited smile still broke through.

"I was...I was actually going to ask you if you wanted to be my plus one. But, only if you want to. I can ask Julius or even Damian. You don't have to feel like you have to-"

"I'd love to, Millie." I smiled, cutting her off before she could start rambling like she does when she's nervous or uncomfortable.

The fact I had no time today just showed how deep my feelings ran for her. I was already mentally rescheduling all the important things that were supposed to keep me out until the middle of the night.

I also knew my father wouldn't be happy with some of the changes I'd have to make.

But I wasn't missing her award ceremony.

"Do you have a dress and everything sorted?" I questioned her as I headed over to the cabinet where I keep all my weapons.

Since I was heading out to a meeting with some potential rivals, I needed all the protection I could get. I picked out my handguns and my knives, taking them over to the bed to lay them out. First I had to check the guns were loaded and the safety was on before they left the safety of my room.

Knowing the twins, one of them would get their hands on it without checking the safety was on.

"I was going to go and get a dress today."

"Take my card." I paused my movements with the guns to take out my wallet.

"No, Costa. I can afford to pay for my own dress." She's always so fucking stubborn, isn't she?

Most women would gladly accept the card and perhaps do everything in their power to avoid giving it back.

But not my wife.

"Just take it, Millie." I held the card out to her and her stubborn self took a long moment before she finally took it, giving me one of her breathtaking smiles.

"Thank you. By the way, what time is it?" She curled up deeper under the duvet, now watching me prepare my weapons.

"11am."

"11?" She groaned, running a hand over her face. "It's so late."

"You're the one who decided to get shitfaced last night." I shrugged, enjoying every second of her narrowed eyes burning into me.

"I did not get shitfaced. I'm too classy for that." She corrected me.

"Too classy, huh?" I smirked, my eyes drifting to her mostly exposed shoulders. "You're only in your underwear right now."

I could see the straps of her pink bra on her shoulders, but otherwise she'd done well to keep herself hidden from my view all morning.

"Don't look." She snapped, tucking the covers under her chin.

"Pink?" I smirked, unclipping the magazine from the gun. "I didn't take you for a pink kind of girl. Maybe black, or red."

"Oh, right. Red is your favourite." She mused with a roll of her eyes.

She was referring to our wedding night when my brothers left her a bag of lace underwear at that bungalow. I joked that red was my favourite while she was throwing a tantrum over it.

"You remember?" I laughed.

"How could I forget?" She scoffed, a slight smile playing on her lips. "And just so you know, I can pull off any colour."

"I'll believe it when I see it." I smirked, my tone challenging.

"In your dreams." She shook her head, leaning over to check her notifications on her phone.

"Can you leave now? I need to get up." She murmured just as I finished organising my weapons.

"So get up." I knew the kind of reaction I was going to get and I wasn't disappointed.

"No! I told you on our wedding night you'd never see anything like that from me and I meant it."

"Sure, principessa?" I rose an eyebrow, tucking my final gun away.

"Positive." She was lying. All the signs were there.

She hesitated for a split second before she answered. She licked her lips, avoiding my gaze afterwards. And, she had that cute little frown from thinking too hard.

I was aching to tease her about it, but something was telling me to leave it be. I was already pushing it by kissing her cheek before I left and calling her baby. I didn't want to scare her away by saying anything else too soon.

Or doing anything else.

The fact she was lying there in just her underwear was already fucking killing me.

"What time is this event starting?" I took a step away, trying to block out those tantalising thoughts of her body.

"The ceremony starts at 7pm and it lasts for an hour. Then the dinner will be served afterwards. It's at a hotel in the Upper East Side."

I mentally ran through my list of things to do today which was all muddled since I had to shuffle things around for her.

"Is it okay if I meet you there? I have a meeting before that, but I'll finish before 7pm."

"Of course, don't worry. Just be there by 7pm so you don't miss it." She smiled, her beautiful brown eyes sparkling playfully. "I'll send the plus one ticket to your phone so they don't kick you out."

"You really think they'd have the balls to kick me out? Please." I scoffed earning a laugh from my wife.

"Go now. I'm getting late for my shopping spree. You're making me late, Costa."

So fucking demanding.

Yet so fucking cute.

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

The muffled cries of the informant filled the dimly lit basement, bouncing off the cold concrete walls.

I leaned back against the wall, my eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and dark amusement as I watched the scene unfold.

Luca, my Enforcer and closest ally outside of my direct family, was in his element, his every move calculated to inflict maximum pain.

Gio and Aidan were supposed to be learning something from him, but they treated it more like a twisted game.

They definitely weren't mature enough to make this easy, but they had a dark streak that was disturbingly fitting for this line of work.

Luca stood over the informant, who was strapped to a chair, his face a bloody mess. He had already gone through the basics—punching, a few knife cuts—but it was time to get creative.

Luca picked up a pair of pliers and turned to the twins. "You two paying attention?"

"Sì." Aidan waved dismissively, a smirk on his face. "Gio, you think he'll scream louder if Luca pulls out a fingernail or a tooth first?"

Gio grinned, his eyes lighting up with mischief. "My money's on the tooth. Want to bet?"

"If you're betting-" Rocco didn't miss a beat. He wouldn't pass up any chance to mess with the twins. "-let's make it interesting."

"How?" Aidan asked.

"The winner gets a lap dance at the club tonight." Rocco laughed, obviously thinking back to an earlier conversation when Gio asked if he could have one tonight.

"Fuck yeah."

"I have a girlfriend." Aidan shook his head, immediately declining the bet.

"Brianna won't care." Gio waved him off, his excitement never wavering.

"It's Bianca." Aidan corrected him with a huff. "And a lap dance is cheating."

"Okay, okay. Fine." Rocco sighed, looking around the room for some kind of inspiration. Then his eyes landed on me and I just knew he was going to say something stupid.

"The winner gets to choose one of Costa's Rolex's to keep."

"Fuck no."

"Deal." The twins spoke in unison. They've been stealing my shit for as long as I can remember. They've also asked me countless times to help them become more like me.

I don't do that shit for anyone. And I don't let people touch my things.

"How did I get dragged into the bet?" I frowned.

"Oh, relax. It's one fucking Rolex which isn't even your favourite brand. You have too many, anyway." Rocco rolled his eyes, listing a bunch of reasons that meant nothing to me.

"They're still mine. I never agreed-"

"Can we get on with this now?" Luca jumped in, clearly not appreciating the weird turn of the conversation. "He's going to pass out before we get any answers."

At that moment he smacked the guy on the cheek, forcing his drooping eyes to open again.

"Fuck. Fine." I sighed, irritation filling me. "Hurry up."

"Go on, Luca. Show us what you got." Gio grinned, clearly hoping the tooth would win.

Luca shook his head, muttering under his breath as he moved towards the informant. He grabbed the man's jaw, forcing his mouth open. The man's eyes widened with terror, muffled pleas escaping his lips. Luca yanked out a molar with a sickening crunch, and the scream that followed was ear-piercing.

"Told you." Gio laughed, clapping his hands together. "That Rolex is going to be mine."

Aidan rolled his eyes. "He hasn't done the fingernail yet."

The informant's cries grew weaker, and I found myself leaning forward, engrossed in the show. There was something almost hypnotic about the way Luca moved. The twins' dark humor also added a bizarre layer of entertainment.

Luca moved on to the finger nail, clamping down before tearing one out.

I have to say, the sound of the scream was equally similar which did surprise me. I thought the tooth would be a clear winner. Luca took one more tooth and one more nail out to be sure. And in the end, we all agreed the tooth did indeed win.

"Fuck, yeah!" Gio celebrated "Costa I'll come and choose my watch later, okay?"

"Fuck off." I muttered, ignoring the laughter around me.

Luca continued for a while after, still trying to get answers out of him. It was my father's orders - don't leave until he's told us the information he knows. No matter how long it takes.

And it took a long fucking time.

By the time the excitement died down and I checked my phone, I felt pure regret wash over me.

Five missed calls and eight texts.

Millie.

"Fuck."

"What is it?" Rocco frowned at my sudden exclamation.

"I forgot." I sighed, running a hand over my face. One step forward, ten fucking steps back. "She's going to hate me."

Not that I didn't deserve it. The award ceremony would have been finished half an hour ago. By the time I got to the hotel, I'd be two hours late.

"You can call her? Find out if she's still there." Aidan suggested, a soft frown marring his face.

He was the one who cared for her the most out of my family. They had a weird kind of bond - one that had the idiota reminding me of his girlfriend because he thought I was jealous.

I tried calling her but she didn't answer. Then I checked in with her security team who told me she was just leaving the hotel now.

She was alone all evening.

"Come on. Let's go. You'll be able to meet her at the penthouse and try and smooth things over." Tristano nodded towards the door and we all filed out, heading to our security convoy.

The entire drive back I was kicking myself, trying to understand how I lost track of time. I had so many back to back meetings all day but it was always in the back of my mind. Then I just...forgot?

I released a sigh, cracking my knuckles to somehow ease the tension in my body. When that didn't work, I was left fiddling anxiously with my wedding ring.

I knew it was important to her. I know Millie. She never would have asked me to come if it wasn't. She was so nervous and I left her to handle it all on her own.

I fucked up - really fucking bad. If she won, she would have been on her own without someone to celebrate with. If she didn't win, she would have been sitting alone keeping up that smile that doesn't reach her eyes when she's sad.

The guilt was gnawing away at me as we approached the penthouse. Both those scenarios ran through my head until the elevator doors opened and I got the answer.

"Cool." Giovanni went straight over to the large glass trophy sitting on the marble kitchen counter next to her purse.

She won.

Pride filled me but it was immediately washed away with guilt.

So she accepted the award on her own - without her husband or her family, or even a friend, by her side to congratulate her or watch her.

"Let me see." Aidan grabbed the trophy off Giovanni reading the inscription aloud. "Millicent Rhea Darmos - Young Publisher of the Year."

He read it with a frown before his eyes snapped over to me. "Her middle name is Rhea?"

"Yeah." I sighed. "Just put it-"

"Shouldn't her surname be Accardi now?" Giovanni cut me off, snatching the heavy glass trophy off his brother. "She's an Accardi."

"Hey, I wasn't done." Aidan went to grab it off him when Tristano stepped forward clearly sensing the same outcome I was.

"Put it down before-"

"Give it!" Giovanni snapped, trying to pull it off Aidan when it slipped from their hands.

The weight of the glass trophy dropped on the marble floor of the penthouse, smashing into tiny pieces with a loud echo.

"Oh shit." Aidan muttered, eyeing the tiny glass crystals that littered the floor around his black dress shoes.

"That was your fault." Giovanni shoved him, the glass crunching under his shoes.

Tristano released a heavy breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. Meanwhile, Rocco burst out laughing, clearly not feeling any kind of remorse.

But I was too busy staring into the tearful eyes of my wife who watched the entire scene.

I could see it written all over her face.

She was fucking heartbroken.

And I was ready to murder those two idiots for what they did. I was ready to kill Rocco for laughing. And, I wished with every fibre of my being that the motherfucker we tortured just now was still alive so I could kill him again for making me late.

But no matter who I could place the blame on, it was all my fault.

She stood there in her red silk dress staring at the remnants of the trophy scattered all over the floor.

"Millie..." Aidan's voice seemed to be what broke her out of her trance. Her eyes snapped up just as the first tears fell from her eyes.

She barely just made eye contact with me before she turned around, lifting her long dress up as she rushed up the stairs to the safety of our room.

I immediately followed her upstairs, taking two steps at a time. I had to make sure it didn't get worse. I had to put out the fire before it truly got started - before it sent us right back to square one.

The bedroom door was closed but not locked. I opened it slowly, finding her standing in front of the mirror, her back to me. She was unfastening her earrings, each movement deliberate and controlled.

"Millie." I spoke softly, stepping inside and closing the door behind me. "I'm so fucking sorry."

I was hardly ever one to apologise - ever.

But I would for her.

And that was scaring the hell out of me. This situation was making it so clear, it was baring my feelings for anyone who was looking.

I was falling for her so fucking hard.

She didn't turn around. She just kept working on her earrings, sniffling softly. "For what, Costa? For missing the event or for the trophy?"

"Both." I admitted, taking a step closer. "I lost track of time. Our...assignment...took longer than I expected. And the trophy, I'll replace it. I promise."

She still didn't turn around, she just started taking off her bracelets and rings one by one. Then she began taking off her necklace, all without acknowledging my presence.

"Millie, please." I was desperate for her to turn around. "I know I messed up, but I'll make it up to you. I swear."

She finally turned to face me, her eyes cold and red from crying. "It's not just something you can make up to me. You promised you'd be there by 7pm, and you weren't. You left me on my own. Then to top it all off, you smash my trophy right in front of my eyes."

The fact I didn't correct her that it was the twins who smashed the trophy and not me, was another tell of my feelings.

"I know. But I'll make it right."

Her expression didn't change. "I don't believe you. How are you going to make this better?"

It was a rhetorical question, her voice dripping with anger. Without waiting for an answer, she turned back to the mirror and started wiping off her makeup.

"I want you out. I want to be alone." She spoke barely above a whisper, tears still leaking from her eyes.

"Millie, just-" I took a step toward her.

"Get out. I can't be around you right now."

Back to square fucking one.

But I knew I had no right to push her further. It was my fault.

"I'm sorry." I said it one last time before turning and leaving the room, closing the door softly behind me.

As I walked down the stairs, the events of the day replayed in my mind.

She was so excited this morning. I let her down in the worst way possible, and now I had the task of somehow making it up to her. The sound of the shattered trophy still echoed in my ears, a reminder of how badly the evening turned out to be.

I found Aidan and Giovanni in the living room, sweeping up the broken pieces of the trophy under Tristano's supervision. They looked up as I entered, their expressions full of guilt and regret.

"Finish cleaning it up then stay the fuck in your rooms." I ordered, anger biting into my voice. "I'm going out."

I needed to clear my head and to figure out how I could make things right with Millie. But for now, all I could do was leave her alone and hope that she wouldn't let her anger consume her.

The ending 🥺 How many of you saw it coming? First Costa missing the awards and then the trophy smashing.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate every single one of you 🩷