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What an arrogant son of a bitch.

First he disappears after he's told we're getting married - leaving me to listen to the preparations alone. Then, he turns up an hour and a half late to our engagement party.

Not only that, but he also claims he's not staying long.

Let's not even mention the looks I was receiving from him and his little band of followers.

Costantino was clearly the leader, which is expected since he was the eldest and the heir to the Sicilian Mafia.

The moment he approached us with his siblings and his twin cousins, I could feel all of them glaring daggers into my back. When I got up to follow my father to Mr Accardi's office, I came face to face with those five deadly glares.

The one who stood out the most was Rocco, Costa's youngest brother. He was 23 years old - two years younger than me. Rocco was the one who shoved me in New York when I refused to move out of their way in my drunken haze.

His family already hated me and we hadn't even finalised the engagement yet. Even before they arrived, Edoardo Accardi barely acknowledged me and neither did Costa's sister, Riviera. She spent most of her time tending to her daughter or socialising with the Accardi's extended family.

I don't think she even said hello to me. I just knew who she was because Damian knew everything about everyone in the Accardi family.

Anger coursed through my veins as we headed down some quieter hallways and then into Mr Accardi's office.

"This should only take a minute. Our lawyers have already drawn up the contracts so the two of you just need to sign them and it'll all be done."

"What are the terms?" Costantino's velvety smooth accent sounded much closer to me than I would have liked as we stepped towards the desk.

"The standard terms in every Accardi marriage alliance. Equal support between organisations - both physically and financially. Looser trading and shipping arrangements and long term commitment between the families in various ways." Edoardo spoke absentmindedly as he flicked through the contract.

"What about my company?" I asked.

"You can continue running it as long as it doesn't interfere with your duties to the Accardi family as Costantino's wife." My father gave me a small smile as if that victory was one to be celebrated.

Why do parents pretend to forget all about their behaviour and suddenly try to be friends with their child again? He's forcing me into a marriage for his own benefit and suddenly he thinks we're all friends again.

I chose to ignore his smile as Costantino brushed past me on his way to take the the contract off his father.

My future husband kept his poker face on as he skimmed through the pages of the contract. Most of it was to do with the business terms which didn't matter to me. But I knew he got to the more personal side of it when his eyes suddenly snapped over to where I stood a few feet away from him.

Costa re-read the text again, the frown on his face deepening. "What's this? What the hell do you mean we have six months to-"

"We put it in every contract. It's a tradition and a very normal term in every Accardi marriage. I already told you, all the traditional terms are in there."

"I'm sorry, am I missing something?" I stepped forward, looking between the three men.

"According to the contract, we have six months for you to fall pregnant." Costantino barely spared me a glance when he addressed me for the first time today. Instead he kept his eyes on the contract.

"That's not happening." My dismissal definitely didn't go down well with the two crime bosses.

"It's not up to you, Millicent." My father gave me a warning look, clearly hoping I wouldn't embarrass him in front of his new bestie, Mr Accardi.

"Of course it is! It's our child, not yours."

Rule number one from when I entered my hormonal teenage years - never raise my voice at my murderous father.

I could tell my father was about to respond in a similar fashion, but Edoardo Accardi beat him to it. Thankfully he didn't shout.

"If it's left up to the two of you then years will pass before an heir is finally born. The first important task for Costantino is to have a legitimate son to secure the line of succession. As I said, it is a standard clause in every Accardi marriage alliance. We are a traditional organisation."

More like a bunch of pompous, arrogant criminals.

"So?" Costantino gave his father an incredulous look. "I don't care about your outdated traditions, you already know that. I don't want them to apply to my marriage. Six months isn't enough time. I have enough shit going on, now you want me to have a baby with her?"

The disgust in his tone had an involuntary scoff escaping my lips. The moment it did, all three men turned in my direction.

"Well, maybe if you didn't get yourself involved in something that you had no business in, then none of this would be happening. I could be having this conversation with Viktor Kozlov right now." My scowl was focused on Costantino who quickly mirrored my glare.

Actually, I think his was worse because I mentioned Viktor.

"You little bitch, I-"

"Okay, you'll have time to flirt after you're married." Mr Accardi cut his son off, flashing him a stern warning look.

Flirt?

"Just sign the contract, Costa." Costa immediately scoffed at his father's demand, tossing the contract down on the desk in defiance.

"Hell no. Forget the fact she's the most infuriating woman I've ever met and I don't plan to sleep with her, ever,-" I don't know if that should be taken as a compliment or an insult."-I have too many responsibilities right now. My workload is too heavy, a baby is too much."

"He's right. I have my company to run. I can't become a mother right now." Admitting he was right actually made me want to vomit.

But it was for the greater good.

"You have six months to settle down plus the length of the pregnancy, that's long enough." If looks could kill, my father would be dead and buried right now.

Both Costa and I glared at him, but that suddenly became too awkward. We made eye contact and immediately broke it, choosing to look away from each other out of pride.

It's going to be a long time before we can ever willingly be on the same page. I'm definitely petty enough to go against him just to piss him off.

Unfortunately, this situation wasn't one of those times. I wouldn't agree to have a baby just to spite him. I would never put my child through that. It will happen on our terms only.

"You already got us here agreeing to sign the contract, you don't need a baby too. Get rid of that clause." My tone was just as firm as Costantino's. I wasn't about to let anyone think I would be the push over in this marriage.

"The contracts are complete and ready to be signed, we can't just-"

"Sure we can." Costa cut my father off, reaching over to grab a pen off the desk. Before anyone could stop him, he crossed out the clause stating we would need to conceive a baby in the first six months of our marriage.

He wasn't soft about it either.

A traitorous smile threatened to tug at my lips when he aggressively crossed out the entire paragraph while our fathers watched on in annoyance. Then he did the same on the second copy, just to be sure.

"There. It's that easy." He gave his father a sardonic smile that probably had him aching to slap his son again.

You and me both, Sir.

Costantino was the first one to sign the contract after skim reading it again. He didn't read all of it, just the business terms. After he was done he stepped back, tossing the pen back down on the desk for me to use it.

With a roll of my eyes, I went forward, hating just how close he was to me as I signed the final version of the contracts.

With just two signatures I signed away the rest of my life and my children's lives to the Accardi family. I barely even had a chance to put the pen down before the contracts were yanked away by Edoardo Accardi.

"Excellent. Here's your copy." Edoardo handed me the second copy before turning to look at my father. "Let's go and toast to it."

He had a smirk playing on his lips that sent shivers straight down my spine. Both he and my father were elated by the confirmation of the alliance. They didn't even bother to hide it.

For the most part my father had always been on my side. He never forced me into anything I didn't want to do. We had a mutual understand and respect for one another. I thought he loved me, and I'm sure deep down in his black heart, Costantino probably also thought the same about his own father.

But here they were using the two of us in their own game to strike the deal of the century. I knew my father had this obsession for power - I think everyone in the criminal underworld knew that about Nicholas Darmos.

They were both so blinded by their lust for power they forgot their own children were being forced into a marriage they never wanted. Right now, it was all about power.

As they walked out the office with the signed contract in hand, it felt like they were taking a piece of me away with them.

I would never be the same after this.

And it was all because of him.

"Are you happy now?" I spun around to face Costantino, finally being alone with the man for the first time since we met.

"Excuse me?" I hate to admit it, but his thick Italian accent was nauseatingly alluring.

"All of this is because of you, you know that, right? It's all your fault." At this he scoffed, taking a step away to leave. However, he stopped in his tracks when I continued.

"Now the two of us are stuck together because you couldn't just mind your own fucking business." He ruined my potential marriage to Viktor Kozlov and now I'm stuck with him instead.

"Yeah, sure, it's all my fault." He drawled, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "You're the one who went running to daddy when you found out what happened."

"I didn't go running to him. My father found out when I almost killed a bitch in public because you paid her to throw champagne on me! Are you seriously that pathetic?"

At this Costantino scoffed. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly cut himself off before he could say it. I took his silence as a chance to continue venting my anger.

"If you hadn't been late to that meeting you might have been able to get us out of this whole thing. If you were there it would have been easier, we could have joined forces against their decision."

Once again he scoffed, muttering more to himself than to me. "I'd rather cut off my dick than ever join forces with you."

"Oh? Perhaps you could do it anyway. Then, regardless of any contracts, we know there's no chances of you getting your demon spawn inside me." Costantino only rolled his eyes at my very serious suggestion, heading over to the alcohol selection in his father's office.

Meanwhile, I opened up the contract to read the rest of it properly.

The main chunk was all about what business benefits each organisation should expect and the expectations we had towards each other. There were some paragraphs covering what to do in the case of future disagreements too.

Then there was the stuff about the heir which Costa so kindly scribbled out like a four year old child throwing a tantrum.

Towards the end were a bunch of rights and expectations that we each have in the marriage.

From Costa, I was entitled to a safe and secure home, privacy, dignity and respect and full financial maintenance.

Basically I was going to be a respected gold digger trapped in a marriage with a man she hates.

From me, apparently Costa was entitled to respect, unconditional obedience, an heir, my presence at whichever occasions he requested and a nurturing feminine presence in his home for his offspring.

Oh, and he had the right to full satisfaction, including sexual satisfaction - either from me or from as many mistresses as he pleases.

"Seriously?" I scoffed, disgust lacing my tone.

"What?" He replied with a harsh tone, still busy filling his glass with the expensive liquor.

It's important to note that he didn't bring me one.

"As many mistresses as you please?" And he said he didn't want outdated traditions to apply to his marriage.

He rose an eyebrow at me, clearly not getting what I meant. Then he walked back over with his full glass, snatching the contract out of my hand.

With a roll of my eyes I took my Boss Bitch self over to the alcohol to pour myself a drink. I settled on what seemed like Campari, pouring a splash into the crystal tumbler glass. Just as I turned back around, Costa released a velvety laugh, his eyes snapping over to me.

I'm guessing he finally got to the stupid clause about his sexual satisfaction and many mistresses.

"They think you're going to be unconditionally obedient to me?" Or maybe not. "Un cane sarebbe più obbediente di questa cagna." (A dog would be more obedient than this bitch) Costa shook his head, still laughing to himself.

The moment he spoke in Italian, and I definitely picked up on the word bitch, Damian's warning to me from earlier resurfaced.

"If he speaks in Italian he's probably insulting you and he just doesn't have the balls to say it to your face."

I had no clue what he actually said, but I narrowed my eyes at him anyway. But he didn't pay any attention to me, he was too focused on the contract.

"You know you can't do that when we're married, right?" I spoke.

"Do what?"

"Speak in Italian when you know I can't understand it."

"Oh, sorry. Does it bother you?" He frowned, his voice becoming soft and serious. I nodded in response. "Bene." (Good) He smirked.

"Yeah, there's no way in hell I'd ever be obedient to you, or even respect you for that matter."

It was a stupid thing to put in the contract. Sure, maybe I'd respect him in front of other people if I had to, but not when we're alone. In public, disrespecting him would damage my own reputation. But in private, I had nothing to lose.

"You will if you want to keep the lifestyle you're used to - you know, the money, designer clothes, the cars - that sort of thing."

Did this bitch really think...

"You know I have my own money, right? I don't need yours." Sure my company was only a few years old, but I was doing well in New York.

"Are you sure about that?" He rose an eyebrow at me, amusement dancing across his features. "Did you actually read the contract?" He spoke in such a patronising tone - as if he was speaking to a child.

"Give me that." I snatched the contract out of his hand, ignoring his heated gaze on me while I searched.

And searched.

And searched.

"What are you even talking about? It doesn't say anything about my mon-"

"Page 5, paragraph 2.1 - you're no longer the responsibility of the Greek Mafia." He cut me off with a factual tone, taking a moment to sip his drink. "That means you're my responsibility and any money or income you have from your place in the Greek Mafia is gone."

I usually get a monthly sum from my father as part of my maintenance allowance. I deserved at least some financial benefit after growing up in such a strict organisation.

"Even my savings?" I seriously doubt they'd try and take that from me.

"You don't have that much. From what I understand, you invested most of your own money back into your company - along with daddy's money too, of course. So your savings won't be enough to keep you going long term, right?" He goaded, clearly trying to start a fight with me like the immature little bitch he is.

I chose to rise above it.

Boss Bitches don't fight with the trash.

Especially trash who have clearly done a background check on their future fiancée.

"I have enough." Actually, I spent a lot of it on a new car recently when I turned 25 - before I knew I was getting married to this man. It was a present to myself for entering my Boss Bitch Era. A present that was now going to bankrupt me.

And he's right, I did reinvest most of my money back into the company for a number of years. The salary I earn from Rhea Publishing wouldn't be nearly enough to keep up with my lavish lifestyle.

"How much?" He grinned, clearly fishing for information which was none of his concern.

"It's my business, not yours. But fine, I'll respect you in public - for my own sake, not yours. In private you have to earn my respect and so far, you haven't." I gave him a sickly sweet smile, shoving the papers against his firm chest.

His eyes narrowed, looking down at where my manicured hand made contact with his chest.

"You'll do well not to touch me, cagna." (Bitch) He snatched the contract back from me and I pulled my hand back, glaring at him for his little insult.

At least I was like every other kid who knew the most common insults of another language before I knew the basic conversational phrases.

He went back to reading it while I took my time to look around the luxurious office.

I probably should have gone back out to the party, but honestly, I didn't want to continue with the formalities. As soon as we left the office we'd have to go up on the stage so Costa could give me a ring in front of everyone.

The last thing I wanted to do was play happy couples with him right now.

"So, you've got a problem with me having a mistress?" A smirk tugged at his lips as he drank his drink, his murky green eyes meeting mine.

"Not in the way you're thinking. I couldn't care less about who you fuck, as long as you don't flaunt it around for everyone to see. I have a reputation to protect."

"Oh?" He was the most patronising, smug little bitch I'd ever met. "So I can fuck anyone?"

"Yeah." I nodded, leaning against the edge of his father's desk. I took a sip of my drink while he continued to smirk at me.

"You don't happen to have a sister do you? Perhaps one with your looks but less of the attitude."

"Okay, even if I did have a sister, she would have just as much attitude as I do - it's a family trait. And she would never sleep with you. She would hate you." My sister would be loyal to a fault. That means she'd hate this smug, patronising, arrogant son of a bitch just as much as me.

"I don't know, I think I can be quite convincing."

"With your head so far up your ass I'm surprised you can even think at all." He didn't appreciate my comment, that's for sure. Any traces of his previous amusement were quickly replaced with that signature glare he always seems to be rocking.

"Why are you even still in here? Get out." He walked away with his drink, going around the desk towards a huge window.

The window overlooked their ostentatious backyard, lit perfectly on a dusky summer evening. Just from the little I saw at the start of the engagement party, I knew they had two pools, a hot tub, a tennis court, a patio area and a barbecue area.

"You know we're supposed to go out there together, right?" He chose to ignore my very valid statement.

Instead he kept his cold gaze on the view out the window, gripping his crystal tumbler glass tight in his hand.

"Fine. Well, when you finally grow some balls you can come out there and deal with the mess you created in the first place." If it was even possible, his body became even more visibly tense and his jaw clenched. His grip on his glass tightened to the point his knuckles became white.

Slowly, he turned to face me, his eyes burning with the same intense anger from the first night we met.

"You better remember who you're speaking to, stupida ragazzina." (You stupid little girl)

I mean, did it really take a genius to figure out what stupida meant?

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" I rose an eyebrow at him as I put my glass down on the desk. Costantino knocked back the last of his drink, tossing the glass carelessly onto the wooden surface of the desk.

The large brown desk was the only thing keeping us apart as we glared at one another.

"If I can crush you before this wedding even takes place, imagine what I can turn your life into the moment you say 'I do'."

I don't exactly know what he meant by 'crush', but I wasn't stupid enough to enquire about it.

"You can't do anything to me." Just to prove it, I started walking around the desk, closing the gap between us. "If you think I'm going to be some kind of demure little wife, you're wrong. I'm not scared of you."

"You should be scared, Millicent." That was the first time he ever said my name. Yes, I hated the man, but damn did my name sound good in his thick Italian accent.

I chose to ignore his warning tone as I boldly approached his domineering figure. My heels clicked against the wooden floor while Costantino remained rooted to his spot, watching my every move.

We were less than two feet apart when I finally stopped in front of him by the window.

I held his stare, my own brown eyes locking onto his green ones.

Despite the power I was trying to hold, I paled in comparison to him.

He was naturally dominant and commanded authority wherever he went. He was at least six inches taller than me and obviously bigger in his build. His muscular figure towered over me, but I didn't back down in my glare.

There was no denying it - the only thing between us was pure hatred.

Just staring into his eyes so close, I knew there was no chance in hell we'd ever move past it. This hatred stemmed all the way back to the night we first met in New York. So much had already happened between us and so much was clearly yet to come.

He was just as stubborn as me. He refused to be the one to back down during our stare down. Instead, he let me see his anger and hatred, but he skilfully hid the rest of his emotions and thoughts away from me.

That was until his lips twitched into the slightest smirk at the very same second that I made my move - a move he clearly knew was coming all along.

The second I reached down to my thigh and pulled out my knife, he instinctively grabbed my wrist. I gasped at the sudden contact and within a split second he had me pushed up against the window with my hand now holding the knife behind my back.

The slight amount of pressure he placed on my arm stopped me from struggling against him, but it didn't hurt me.

Surprisingly, he was extremely gentle, even when he shoved me up face first against the window with my right arm behind my back. My left palm lay flat on the cool glass to steady myself.

"You're becoming a little predictable with that knife, principessa." (Princess) His warm breath fanned the side of my face as he whispered the words, his accent sounding even more alluring with the close proximity.

"Mistake number one, never use the same move twice." He murmured, applying a gentle pressure to my arm.

The pressure was enough to force my hand to relax causing my knife to drop to the floor with a clatter. The sound echoed in the silent room while Costa came in even closer. The strong scent of his musky, woody cologne invaded my senses as he pressed himself against me.

I could just about make out his reflection behind me in the glass of the window. His green eyes became even darker, the anger coming back tenfold.

"Mistake number two, thinking you could pull a weapon on me and get away with it. Get this through your head, Millie - I'm not someone you want to mess with. I won't tolerate it and you definitely won't like what will happen. When you marry me, you'll no longer be protected as daddy's little princess. You'll be an outsider in my family and every single rule, restriction and punishment will apply to you. So, you've got six weeks to fix this fucking attitude of yours before the wedding. Otherwise, you'll be in for a world of shit, wife."

Without applying anymore pressure to my arm, he roughly released me. Both my hands went to the glass to steady to myself now while he stormed out of the office without looking back.

I released a shaky breath listening to his retreating footsteps. As soon as I was alone, I stumbled backwards in my heels. I rested on the edge of the desk with my hands gripping the wood to keep me steady.

Every encounter I'd had with Costantino Accardi had been unpleasant, but this one was definitely the worst. Not because he knew exactly what move I was planning, but because of how serious he was.

I didn't doubt it for a second - he would make my life hell if I didn't submit to him and his family.

If I even rebelled just a little, I hated to think what they could do. His brothers and his cousins already clearly hated me. I would be away from my family and at their mercy completely.

That just opened up a whole internal conflict I would need to process. I wasn't a person who backed down easily - I was assertive, confident and bold.

But if I wanted to survive, would I need to let go of that part of me? Would I need to change?

I so badly wanted to succumb to the emotions threatening to overwhelm me at that very moment. But I knew I couldn't, not now.

I had six weeks to drown in my sorrow at the realisation of what my life was about to become. But for the next twenty minutes, I had to keep a wall up.

I couldn't let him see any emotion. These kind of men prey on fear and vulnerability. The moment Costantino finds out how vulnerable and scared I feel on the inside, he'll attack like a vulture.

So, I swallowed down the emotions, took a few deep breaths, retrieved my knife, and I stood up straight ready to go and face the crowd in the ballroom.

I was in my Boss Bitch Era, after all. I just needed to act like it for a little while longer.

Costantino ignored me completely as I approached the main table in the ballroom again.

"Finally. Where did you go?" Damian came over to me with concern written all over his face.

"Just for a quick touch up. I have to look my best for all these people to watch the devil put a ring on my finger." My cousin was always the one person who could see through any facade or fake smile I tried to show the world - this was no exception.

"Mildred, did something-"

"Millie." Damian was cut off by my father rushing over with a half drank glass of champagne in his hand. "Come on. They're waiting for you."

He took me by the hand, guiding me over to his new bestie, Edoardo Accardi. As soon as they got both Costa and I on the stage, Edoardo got everyone's attention and started with a little speech.

The entire time I kept my gaze on the floor, trying to avoid anyone's eyes if I could help it. The few times I did look up, I was met with Rocco's cold glare from his place next to his brothers on the stage.

"And to symbolise and mark the beginning of the alliance, Costantino will present his bride with a ring."

That was my cue to step closer to Costa on the stage. His brother, Tristano, handed him a black ring box. My future husband had an impassive expression on his face as he opened the box to reveal a silver ring inside.

"This particular ring was his mother's engagement ring." At the revelation, my eyes instantly snapped to his, only to find him looking down at the ring. His jaw was clenched and his body went rigid at the mention of his mother - just like it did that day we met in New York.

When I mentioned his mother that night, his entire demeanour changed. He went from a level 4 kind of angry to an off the scale, ready to claw my face off and rid the world of my existence, kind of angry.

"As the eldest son, it's always been promised to him. May it bring the young couple just as much love and joy to their marriage as it did ours."

Did? What happened?

Wait, he's being forced to give me, a woman he despises, his mother's engagement ring?

Costantino took out the dainty ring, handing the box back to Tristano. I held out my hand and he took it, gently sliding the ring onto my ring finger.

The audience clapped and I forced the most believable smile onto my face. We both turned to face the audience for those all important photos that could circulate across the media. It's not every day two of the richest families manage to land a perfect love story article in the newspapers and tabloids.

While we were known as crime families in underworld, to the rest of the world we were just rich entrepreneurial families. This was the chance to gain generate good publicity when our families were often facing business related scandals.

Surprisingly, we managed to avoid crime-related scandals completely.

Costantino wrapped a loose arm around my waist as we posed for the cameras. I'm not sure if he was smiling but it wouldn't surprise me if he wasn't.

We took a few photos alone as a couple and then a few with both families on stage. Between every set of photos or whenever the photographer would rearrange the positions, Costa would let go of me as if my touch burned him. At one point he took a full step away and I wanted to roll my eyes at his shitty attempt at portraying us as a happy couple.

"Okay, we're all done." The photographer smiled, stepping away to go and take photos of the rest of the event.

As soon as our families began to disband off the stage, Costa and his brothers were clearly about to make a move to leave.

"Costa, wait." His father stopped the three of them from making their quick escape. "You said you aren't coming back before the wedding?"

"No."

"We'll need you here for the events leading up to the day." Weddings in the Sicilian Mafia were a big deal and Costa's would have been the biggest. He was the current Underboss, future heir and the son of the of the current boss. His wedding was the biggest deal of them all.

The two of them shared a look having a secret conversation. The dark looks they exchanged had Costa clenching his jaw - something the poor guy does quite often.

He must be under a lot of stress or something. I do hope I'm not adding to it.

"Send me the dates and I'll see when I can come back." They shared one more look and then Costa turned around looking for his twin cousins. They were sitting down at the table again, shovelling the dessert into their mouths as fast as possible.

"Per l'amor di Dio." (For God's sake) He muttered to himself in exasperation at the sight. Then he shifted his glare towards Rocco. "Go and get them before I leave them here."

"Li porti con te?" (You're taking them with you?) Costa barely even looked in his father's direction when he asked a question in Italian. While I couldn't actually understand what he said, I could tell he was trying to be friendly. His tone was softer than before and his eyes were kinder.

In response, Costa's tone was cold and curt. "Sì." (Yes.)

"Sono fiero di te, mio figlio" (I'm proud of you, my son) Whatever Edoardo said had his son's dark green eyes immediately snapping to meet his brown ones.

They had some sort of stare down but it was broken very quickly. Costantino didn't reply to his father, instead he turned towards his siblings. They started their walk to leave the ballroom, passing us on their way.

"See you at the wedding, Accardi." Julius was the one to bid Costa farewell, his tone holding every ounce of anger and contempt he felt towards my future husband.

Costa spared my brother one glance, his eyes shifting towards me fleetingly. But he didn't say a word.

I'm not exactly sure what came over me a few moments after they left.

Perhaps I was naively holding onto the last bit of hope that this wouldn't turn into a disaster of a marriage. Maybe I thought I could still fix it.

Or maybe I just didn't want that to be the last encounter I had with him before we met at the altar in six weeks.

Regardless, I found myself calling his name in the empty hallway of their home as the five of them made their escape.

As soon as I called his name, they all came to a stop. Costa was the last one to turn around as I closed the gap between myself and them, my steps slowing as I neared.

The sound of my heels on the marble floor was the only sound to be heard before I finally got the courage to speak.

"You can keep it. The ring, I mean." I felt nervous under their five glares, but I tried to keep my attention firmly focused on him.

All he did was raise a perfectly shaped brow at me, leaving me stumbling over my words.

"I just...I don't feel right keeping it. You know because...it's your...it's your mother's, right?" By the end the volume of my voice dropped significantly when that same anger flared in his eyes again.

I think any mention of his mother is enough to ignite a rage inside him, but when it's me bringing her up, it seems to make it a million times worse.

He stayed rooted in his spot as I slipped off the ring, holding it out towards him in my palm. "Here." Now my voice was meek, barely above a whisper.

All I wanted was for him to take the ring so I could scurry away from the five of them and back into the ballroom. But instead, he suddenly took one step closer to close the gap between us.

The height difference reminded me of the power imbalance from earlier as he glared down at me. He spared one look at the ring in my hand before scoffing, bringing his eyes to mine again.

"Do you really think I'd actually give my mother's ring to you?" He said it as if the idea was utterly absurd. He was disgusted even at the thought of it. I even heard one of the twins laugh but it was quickly covered by a cough.

"But I-"

"You're not worth it and you never will be. That's not hers, it's not even a real fucking diamond. Keep it or throw it, I don't care. Just learn your place, Millie. You're worth nothing to me, the quicker you get that into your head, the better."

Those were his parting words to me.

He held my stare for a second longer just allowing me to see the pure hatred he had for me.

I know we've had a rough time since this whole thing with Viktor Kozlov happened. But I still had no idea what I ever did to him on my birthday that truly made him hate me so much. It was confusing and just sickening. Then he walked away leaving me clutching the fake ring.

I can't believe I didn't even realise it was a fake.

I hate to admit it, but I'm ashamed of myself.

What did you think of their first real conversation? Could you feel that tension? 👀

The next one is the wedding!! 🤩

Thank you for reading!