Costantino

10 - WifeNot, I'll kill You

Our first official evening as a married couple wasn't as painful as I thought it would be.

After I saved our dinner from drowning, we sat in silence while we watched a movie. I chose it for myself but Costa decided to stick around with me. He spent most of it on his phone anyway.

Our second night together was also way more tolerable than the first.

Costa called another truce before we got into bed so we agreed to just stay away from each other while still sharing the duvet.

Unfortunately, any potential progress we may have made during our one day honeymoon went out the window the next morning.

"What the hell is that?" I groaned into my pillow, scrunching my eyes shut.

"I don't know. Shut up." He's so moody in the morning.

"It's still going." Please God, why is it still going?

"Well, your talking isn't fucking helping."

"Costa." I cried, sounding more like a spoiled child than I care to admit. "Make it stop!"

Finally the man on the other side of the bed groaned out loud, forcing himself to sit up.

"You have no idea how strong my urge to kill someone is right now." He wasn't even saying it threateningly. He was just informing me as if it was a normal thing to say.

"Just shut that noise up and we can go back to sleep."

He seemed absolutely done with life as he trudged out of the bedroom in his T-shirt and boxers.

The moments that passed after Costa opened the door to our villa were filled with silence. It was peaceful enough that my eyes drooped closed again. Usually I couldn't fall asleep so easily, but I was so comfortable and tired that I was out like a light.

"Get up."

Just ignore it.

"Get the hell up."

Sleep is more important.

Seconds later the duvet was ripped away from my body. The cool air of the room stung against the bare skin of my legs that was exposed by Costa's T-shirt.

My eyes flew open, taking a second to adjust to the darkness of our room. Costa was walking away from my side of the bed, heading straight over to our bags.

"What-"

"I won't tell you again, Millie." He was busy shoving things into our bags while I watched through groggy eyes.

The way he glanced back to check if I was out of bed reminded me of the way Mrs K used to wake me up. And I thought she was aggressive before I met Costantino.

To further encourage me to get out of bed, he then yanked open the curtains. The sunlight shone straight into my eyes causing me to release a pained moan.

"What is the matter with you?" I used my hand to shield my eyes from the sun. I only lowered it when my eyes adjusted to the harsh change in lighting.

"We need to go. Here." He all but threw my Louis Vuitton hold-all across the room and onto the bed. "Go and get ready."

Did I follow his order?

Fuck no.

"What time is it?" I yawned, relaxing back on my pillow.

"Time for you to get the hell out of that bed before I drag you out myself."I didn't doubt the seriousness of his threat for even a second, not after the way we've been bickering and arguing since we met.

The problem was, my own temper was starting to flare. This rude awakening coupled with his attitude was starting to get on my nerves.

"I don't know who you think you're talking to, Costa, but you need to watch your tone." I was never a morning person, but so far I think I'd been pretty calm with him. It was rare anyone would dare speak to me the way he was so I wasn't exactly used to reigning in my temper.

"I think I'm speaking to a spoiled little brat who doesn't know how to follow instructions -" He turned to face me before continuing. "- a spoiled brat who really needs to learn her place before I teach it to her."

In a flash I was out of the bed.

I straightened his shirt on my body, pulling it down to mid-thigh. My eyes locked onto his as I approached him, my bare feet padding along the floor.

"What the hell are you going to do, huh? Let's see what happens if you even try to touch me, you son of a-"

"Finish that sentence, Millicent. Io ti sfido." (I dare you) He also took a step closer to me in an attempt to intimidate me. The height difference definitely played to his advantage.

But I didn't let that deter me. I was furious and that fury pushed me to say the one thing I knew would get to him.

A sardonic gasp escaped my lips. "Oh, that's right. I forgot, you have mommy issues, right?"

I didn't know what happened with his mother, but I knew it was his trigger. That night on my birthday in New York I told him his mother must be proud of him and it sparked outrage inside him.

It was a low blow but he deserved it.

I knew I was playing with fire before it even slipped out in the heat of the moment. But nothing could have prepared me for the fury in his stormy green eyes.

He stepped even closer so that his chest was pressed against mine, forcing me to crane my neck to maintain eye contact.

"If you ever so much as breathe a word about my mother again, Millie, I promise you I will put a bullet in your head. Wife or not, I'll kill you."

It was that moment that reality truly kicked in for me.

The emotions from the wedding hadn't caught up with me yet. Yesterday I didn't cry or break down like I anticipated I would. But this was the trigger that I needed. After this particular argument, all I ached for was a moment alone to let my walls down.

I was reminded I hadn't just shared a bed two nights in a row with my new husband, he was also the heir to one of the most deadly, notorious criminal organisations in history.

Costantino was ruthless and cold. He was a Made Man in the Sicilian Mafia - an organisation known to be particularly cruel and murderous. He would kill me if he really wanted to and he'd truly get away with it. The only backlash would be from my family, but his own family would protect him.

The silence was interrupted by the door creaking behind us causing me to flinch. I spun around to see both Tristano and Rocco glaring at me from the door to the living room.

They were both dressed in casual clothes, although they looked like they hadn't slept all night.

What the fuck?

My lips parted in shock at the sight of them. "What are you two-"

"Get ready. We're leaving in ten minutes." Costa cut me off with a cold tone - the kind he would save for his most hated adversaries.

He walked past me, heading into the bathroom while I stayed pinned under the furious gazes of his brothers.

If I thought they hated me before, I'm sure they were just as ready as my husband to kill me.

So even after our ice cream adventure, all the truces and a weirdly peaceful night, Costa and I were back to square one.

We were back in the exact same place we were when we first met in New York on my birthday.

>>>>>>>

It turns out it was 6am when Costa's brothers stormed into our villa demanding that we, or he, come home immediately.

My guess is they spent the night working and then some shit went down. Now they need their older brother to fix it so they came to get him.

Just like he said, within ten minutes we were outside the villa getting our bags into the car.

The three of them made sure to speak in Italian the entire drive back to their house.

They were having an intense conversation which often led to them raising their voices.

They didn't once acknowledge me sitting in the back with Rocco.

He even made sure to keep a huge gap between us in the car and my purse was also between us.

Meanwhile, I sat there with my sunglasses covering my sleep deprived eyes. I was wearing the only decent clothes they packed for me - jeans and a plain white T-shirt. Compared to their designer clothes, I felt like a peasant in their presence.

It was one of my lowest moments, for sure, but I wasn't about to touch any of Costa's clothes after the argument we had this morning.

The drive was less than an hour, but it felt like an eternity. I needed coffee and some food, but apparently there were no plans for that.

"Um..." I tentatively broke the short silence that had fallen in the car. "Is breakfast a common thing in Sicily or...?" I mean, yesterday I had to drag Costa to the shop just to get some items for breakfast.

I took off my sunglasses, looking between the three of them waiting for someone to grace me with an answer.

"You can eat when we get to the house." Costa sighed, keeping his eyes focused on the road.

"Well, what about coffee then?" I rose an eyebrow at him when his eyes met mine in the rear view mirror.

"Posso strangolarla per te?" (Can I strangle her for you?) Rocco muttered, sending me a scowl.

"Presto. Finché lo fai soffrire." (Soon. As long as you make it hurt.) Costa replied and Tristano chuckled to himself in the passenger seat.

"Sarebbe un piacere per me." (It would be my pleasure.) Rocco sent me a sick grin that sent chills down my spine. I pressed myself tighter against the door as if that would help put more distance between us.

I had no clue what they were saying, but I knew it wasn't good for me.

Rolling my eyes, I slid my sunglasses back on before relaxing back into the leather seat.

Another twenty minutes passed before we pulled up to 'the house', as Costa called it.

What he meant was - the huge ass guarded villa that puts all other villas, mansions or manors to shame.

It was the same villa we had our engagement party at.

Situated perfectly on the coast, it was bigger than our manor in New York, and our mansion in Athens.

We made our way inside while two butlers rushed out to take our bags out the car. Costa gave them orders in Italian while I was busy taking in the luxury interior of the house.

That crazy night of the engagement party didn't do this place justice.

If the Mediterranean region had a royal family, I think the Accardi family would win that title.

The house was obnoxiously regal.

And they had a huge family portrait hanging on the wall across from the front door. It overlooked the entry hall, reminding everyone who's house they were stepping into.

The portrait included Costa, his three siblings and his father. But next to Edoardo Accardi was a brunette woman I'd never seen before.

Costa's mother.

She was incredibly beautiful with high cheek bones, plump lips and piercing eyes - all the features that Costantino inherited from her.

I felt like she was staring into my soul when a soft meow broke through the quiet entry hall.

A medium size grey cat slowly emerged from around a corner. It hesitated upon seeing me, then it cautiously approached as if it was sizing up a new enemy.

With each step it analysed me before shifting it's gaze to someone behind me. The cat headed past me and straight over to Costa who knelt down with a genuine smile lighting his features.

"Ciao, Lula. Ti sono mancato?" (Hi, Lula. You missed me?) My heart almost melted at the scene of the cat rubbing its head against his leg, purring softly at the contact.

Rocco knelt down next to them to pet the cat, but it hissed at him almost instantly. He pulled his hand back while Costa laughed, stroking the cat's grey fur.

"She told you already she doesn't like you." The cat then spotted Tristano in the background and gave him an identical hiss. "Or you." Costa smirked at Tristano who only scoffed in response.

She then moved in closer to Costantino protectively while eyeing his brothers.

"You have a cat?" My question had the three brothers and the cat all looking in my direction. While the cat seemed cautious, my husband and new brothers in-law seemed irritated by my question.

"What do you think?" Rocco snapped, standing to his feet. The movement caused the cat to flinch, moving in closer to Costa again. She looked between Rocco and I as if she thought we were a threat to her, or maybe to Costa.

She seemed really protective of him.

"Ragazzi, andate. Ci vediamo lì presto." (You guys go. I'll meet you there soon). Whatever he said had the two of his brothers heading towards the front door with Rocco stopping to send me one last glare.

Once they were gone the cat seemed to relax, but she was still eyeing me with caution. Costa was quiet for a moment, he seemed to be having an internal battle over something. Then he sighed in defeat.

"I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing this for her. She needs to be introduced to you properly. Come here. Slowly."

The cat watched me as I approached, licking her lips. She stayed rooted in her spot as I knelt down, putting my purse on the marble floor.

"Give me your hand." Costa murmured, still stroking her fur with his free hand. "She needs to get used to your scent first."

He held out his left hand, the one with his wedding band on. I gave him my hand and he gently clasped it, bringing it closer to the cat.

"Lula, this is Millie. She's my wife." His voice was soft as he introduced me, surprisingly as his wife. The moment he said that word Lula meowed, turning to look at him. "I know, I feel sorry for me too. She's a bitch."

A scoff escaped my lips and the two of them turned to look at me again.

"Millie, this is Lula." He didn't elaborate on his story with the little cat, so I didn't ask.

"Hi." I smiled, keeping my hand in front of her while she acquainted herself with my scent.

She took her time to sniff my hand, eventually coming closer to me. I took that as an opportunity to stroke behind her ear and she immediately purred at the contact. A warm feeling spread through my chest when she put her two front paws on my legs, resting her head between them.

"She likes you." He seemed astounded at the sight. "Why the fuck does she like you?"

He also seemed pissed which made me smile.

"Why did you think she would hate me?" I laughed, still stroking her head.

"She's usually a very good judge of character. Lula hates everyone. She hates my father, my brothers and especially the twins. She doesn't like anyone but me." He was still frowning, clearly feeling betrayed.

"Maybe she likes women?" I shrugged. "Perhaps you give off feminine energy so she's been confused all this time."

Lula meowed which I took as confirmation of my theory. On the other hand, Costa was glaring at me.

"I don't give off feminine energy."

"If you say so." I laughed as Lula moved back, resting her paws back on the floor again.

We both stood up and she immediately meowed, stepping closer to my feet. Costa headed over to the stairs so I followed, and Lula followed me.

"Is she clingy?" I frowned, noticing the way she followed my every movement.

"Yeah, she is." He sighed, leaning down to pick her up. She curled up in his arms as we headed up two flights of stairs and into the west wing.

He headed down a long hallway before stepping into a room through a set of double doors. After pressing a kiss to her head, he put Lula down on the floor and she went straight over to a cat bed in the corner.

The bedroom was light and airy with huge windows and a balcony overlooking the back yard. I could also see their private beach from here too.

There was a huge four poster king size bed, a fireplace and a seating area. There was also a beautifully carved wooden desk by the window.

If this bitch doesn't give me a home office, I'll happily work there.

My wedding dress was already laid out across the bed in the clear garment bag. My bags, suitcases and two Louis Vuitton trunks were also piled into a corner.

"This is my bedroom?" It was the perfect little sanctuary in this house. It would be a place I could get away from the Accardi family and escape.

"No it's-uh...it's ours." Costa scratched the back of his neck, stepping back when he saw the intensity of my expression.

"I'm sorry, I think I misheard you. Did you just say it's our room?"

"Well, it's mine...and now yours, I suppose." He didn't seem happy about it which was good at least. It confirmed my reality wasn't becoming warped within a few seconds.

"Why can't we sleep in separate rooms? You saw how bad our first night was and we just about made it through the second. I can't do that every night, Costa." That's not to mention the tension lingering between us after the little spat we had in the bungalow before we left.

"According to my father, you're my wife which means we need to share a room."

"And you couldn't just say no?" I rose an eyebrow at him.

I guess I'll add this to the list of things I'm blaming him for. First what he did with Viktor Kozlov, then our marriage, now sharing a bedroom.

"No. It...it's complicated." He muttered, heading into the walk-in closet. Since he couldn't be bothered to give me a tour, I decided to follow him inside the closet where he was just about to take off his T-shirt.

"Can I help you?" He stared at me like he was concerned for my concept of boundaries.

I would be too.

"This isn't going to work for me." I gestured to the large walk in closet we were standing in. He rose an eyebrow at me, clearly not getting what I meant. "Your clothes. You're going to need to move them."

The size of the room was good, but not with his things in there too. Clearly we shared the same love for retail therapy. The closet was full to the brim with luxury three piece suits, designer casual wear and accessories and shoes.

Costa sighed, guiding me back out of the closet by my wrist. We went to another door adjacent to it.

"This is yours." He opened the door and then walked away to change, leaving me to admire the empty closet identical to his.

His and hers closets. So perfect yet so nauseating.

By the time I was done checking it out, Costa had gone into the bathroom. I heard the shower running while I took the time to look around the rest of the bedroom.

Everything was pretty bare and empty. There were no photos displayed and he didn't have many personal items stashed away anywhere.

The desk drawers were stocked with stationery and personalised Accardi paper for letters.

The bedside drawers were all empty save for some aspirin, a wad of cash, a cheque book and Costa's passport.

I was out on the balcony admiring the view when he came out of the bathroom. I turned just in time to catch a short glimpse of him heading into his closet with a towel wrapped around his waist.

All I can say is damn. I might hate the man and this whole shit show of a marriage, but at least he's easy on the eye.

I gave him a few minutes before I approached the closet door he'd carelessly left open. Maybe he makes it habit? I wouldn't mind if he regularly left the closet door open.

"Are you going out?" He was busy tying his black tie when I stopped in the doorway. His green eyes met mine in the mirror. "Yeah."

"Where?" I knew it was none of my business and to be honest, I didn't really care for his answer. I just wanted to test the waters to know my limits and see how honest he would be.

"Work."

"Is that why your brothers came to the villa?"

"Mhm."

"And what am I supposed to do here all day?"

"Do you ever stop asking questions?" He finally snapped, turning to look at me. The anger from earlier was still simmering away in his forest green eyes.

Wife or not, I'll kill you.

Those six words had been running on a loop in my head since he said them. The weirdest thing was it wasn't the first time he threatened me, but it was the first time his threat really hit me. It seemed like the first time he truly meant it.

I didn't want to push him because now I truly was at his mercy - we weren't on a 'honeymoon' anymore. I was invading his actual home, his bedroom - his life.

I didn't have anyone to protect me, so I had to be smart with the way I played this out.

I waited in the bedroom while he finished tying his tie and straightening his collar. He clipped on his Rolex and his gun and holster which only further reminded me of his threat.

Men in the mafia carry weapons with them almost 24 hours a day. If you say one wrong word, you could end up in a ditch before you even knew it.

I watched as he shrugged on his suit jacket. He was wearing a grey suit with a white shirt and a black tie.

I can confirm this man has a good dress sense. Unfortunately, it doesn't make up for his awful personality.

He didn't even say goodbye or acknowledge me when he left. He just walked out of the room without looking back.

Since it was still only 7:30am, I decided to go and find the kitchen first. I needed some breakfast and then I was going to take a nap.

At least I'd be able to sleep peacefully without Costa in the same building as me.

First I had to find my way back to the stairs. Once I got downstairs, I followed the sound of pans clanging until I arrived in the beautiful kitchen.

Just like the rest of the house, it was bright and airy with windows and double doors leading to the back garden.

There was a seating area perfectly positioned in the natural light of the window. Across the room was the main kitchen area where two staff members were already preparing breakfast for the Accardi family.

The ladies both seemed to be in their late forties or early fifties. They had motherly auras surrounding them.

As soon as they saw me they stopped their movements, eyeing me with confusion.

"Hi." I smiled nervously, stepping further into the huge kitchen. "I'm Millie."

"Breakfast isn't ready yet." One of them flashed me an irritated look, probably for interrupting their flow.

"Oh. Well, can I just quickly make some toast or something? I-"

"Who are you?" The same one cut me off, putting her knife down on the chopping board.

"Millie...?" Didn't I just tell her that? "I'm Costantino's wife. We got married two days ago."

Her expression suddenly changed when she realised who I was. "Oh, Signora. I'm sorry. I thought you were only here for one night." (Madame)

"Those boys are always bringing women back." The other one shook her head, stirring something in a pan on the stove.

"Greta! Non dirlo così. Penserà che stai parlando di suo marito." (Greta! Don't say it like that. She'll think you're talking about her husband.)

"Oh! No!" Greta spun around to face me, a sheepish smile on her face. "Not Signore Costantino. He doesn't bring women back. Well, he does but not every night. Maybe every other night." (Sir)

A laugh accidentally bubbled out of me when I saw their frantic expressions.

"It's okay. It wasn't...it's a business arrangement - nothing more. He can do whatever he wants."

That's all it ever would be.

"Your accent...you are not Italian?" Greta frowned, coming over to the counter closest to where I stood.

"No, I'm Greek." I smiled placing my hands on the marble kitchen counter.

"Well, you're beautiful. Signore Costantino is a lucky man." Greta grinned before introducing herself. "I'm Greta, this is Agata - my sister. We cook for the Accardi family - breakfast, lunch and dinner."

"So you would like breakfast, Signora?" (Madame) Agata smiled, resuming her chopping a few feet away as she spoke.

"Please just call me Millie. Yes please, but nothing special. I'll have anything."

"No no. You must tell." Agata insisted.

"Maybe some fruit and porridge?" I smiled, shifting awkwardly under their gazes. "But I can help you if-"

"Oh, nonsense. Just take a seat and I will make it." Agata gestured to the dining area.

I made small talk with them while they made my breakfast, along with the huge array of foods for the rest of the Accardi family.

It turns out the two sisters had worked here for the last 35 years. Their mother was a cook here before them.

They had a good relationship with the rest of the family, although they did say it's not the easiest job. Apparently sometimes the atmosphere in the house can get a little tense if things ever go wrong.

As someone who grew up in the Greek Mafia, I completely understood. If my father was ever in a bad mood, the entire house would know it. The staff were on edge and the rest of the family knew to stay out of his way.

I can imagine Edoardo Accardi and even his sons had the same influence here.

After my breakfast I went up to our bedroom for a nap. Then I spent a few hours unpacking my things. I put all my clothes, accessories and make up in the walk-in closet. I put my laptop on the desk and my work essentials in the drawers.

I also moved Costa's things to the other nightstand because I always sleep on the right hand side of the bed.

The right side of the bed is the best side and no one can tell me any different.

Once all that was done I went exploring around the villa. I was a bit nervous to look around upstairs, so I kept my adventure focused on the downstairs. I checked out the living rooms, the cinema room, the gym, indoor pool and the back yard. I decided to save the beach for another day.

There were some locked doors too which thankfully no one saw me trying to enter.

By the middle of the afternoon I hadn't encountered anyone apart from the staff.

I made sure to introduce myself to everyone working here.

Just because I hate the Accardi family that doesn't mean I have to be rude to their staff.

They were actually all really nice anyway - I couldn't hate them if I wanted to.

That day I ended up eating dinner alone in the dining room.

I was told they all eat breakfast in the kitchen and then they had a formal dinner in the dining room every day.

This usually included a bunch of officials from La Famiglia too.

Huge family dinners were a big deal in the Sicilian Mafia.

Greta and Agata said lunch is more of a free for all depending on who is at home.

Right now it was only the twins at home but they ordered pizza I think. One of the butlers told me Edoardo and his wife left yesterday for a vacation to relax after the wedding. Apparently forcing his son to marry someone for his own benefit was extremely stressful for Edoardo Accardi.

"How was dinner?"

"It was really nice. Thank you, Agata." I smiled at the cook who had already become one of my two favourite people in this villa. Obviously the other one was her sister, Greta.

"Want some more?" She smiled, sliding the dish of pasta towards me. There was enough there to feed twenty people. That's probably because I was the only who had dinner. Everyone else was out or busy.

"No." I laughed, taking a step back with a hand on my stomach. "I'm so full already. You've been giving me food all day."

It's true. They gave me breakfast and then lunch and dessert and now dinner.

"Dessert?" Greta grinned, coming over with a huge tray of fresh pastries.

And now more dessert.

"Oh." My eyes widened at the sight of the sugar coated golden pastries. "Okay. But only this once. No more." I spoke in a strict tone and they both nodded in total understanding.

I had to put some boundaries in place before I accidentally went up three dress sizes after eating all their food.

"It's so good." I moaned, dropping down on a stool at the breakfast bar. The warm buttery pastry was filled with a lemon curd. It was heavenly.

"Thank you." Agata smiled. She went to pick up the tray of pastries but I quickly held out my hand to stop her.

"No. Leave them."

"Oh. But Millie you said-"

"Never mind what I said." I shook my head, taking another bite of my pastry.

I'm so getting fat.

Well, it's not like I need to maintain my figure anymore. Costa was the only man I was allowed to have intimate relations with and that's never going to happen. Plus, if I accidentally killed myself by over eating, it would get me out of the marriage.

I ate another two pastries before I said goodnight to Agata and Gretel, heading upstairs to do some work.

I was only meant to catch up on some emails that I'd missed. But I ended up working for another four hours.

Costantino came home around midnight, barely even sparing me a glance. I only stopped working at the desk - by force - when he turned off all the lights to go to sleep.

He seriously should have fought harder to get me my own room.