Costantino

12 - Stupid Little Girl

"What are you doing?" I looked through sleepy eyes at his tall figure hunched over by my bed side.

"Leaving you a note." Costa murmured, continuing to write his message on a sticky note by my bed.

He was so close to me that I could smell his woody cologne.

"You woke me up, maláka." (Asshole)

Is this man ever going to stop adding to 'Things I've Done to Piss Millie Off' list?

So far his 'Things I've Done to Make Millie Smile' list is still empty.

"Here." I thought he was going to leave the sticky note on my nightstand like a normal person. Maybe he could have stuck it to my phone.

Instead, he tried to stick the paper to my forehead.

"Hey." I snatched it off him, swatting his hand away from my face. He stepped away without a care, completely ignoring the sour look I was sending his way.

Be ready for 7pm. Wear a nice dress.

Since he didn't bother to stick around to see my reaction, I didn't give him one. I scrunched the note up, putting it on my nightstand.

Seconds later the bedroom door clicked shut.

Now that he'd left the bedroom, I was finally able to sleep in peace without breathing in his toxic energy.

We'd been married for a week and tonight was the first time I had to attend an event with him. That little exchange over the sticky note was the most we'd spoken.

For the last week we'd avoided each other as much as possible.

Costantino was spending all his time working or perhaps with the blonde who's name I still didn't know.

I didn't know much at all about what went on in the house. He didn't keep me informed about anything or let me ask any questions.

For example - I couldn't ask who that bitch was, I couldn't ask when his sister would finally be going home to Portugal, I couldn't ask when we were going to New York, I couldn't ask why he's such an arrogant dick - that kind of stuff.

Just like every other day I'd been in this cold and uninviting house, I spent the day working. I did some of my own work in the morning and then I had back to back meetings all afternoon.

Since most of my team and clients were in New York, most of my work was done in the afternoon and evening.

Unfortunately, one of those meetings ran over 6:30pm when Costa came home to get ready.

"Well, has she given any ideas of what she wants at her book launch?" I questioned, pausing the notes I was scribbling down.

"No. She just said it has to run with the theme of her novel and she wants it to stand out."

"Your job was to ask her for more detail, Phoebe. That's what the meeting was for." I frowned.

Organising an entire book launch event from another country was already hard enough. But now my team members weren't fulfilling their roles and responsibilities properly.

"I...I did ask her. That's what she said. She wants us to do it for her since we're her publisher."

"We're not an event management company and we don't have the same resources as huge publishing houses." I sighed in frustration, leaning back in my chair, mulling over what to do next.

At that same moment Costantino walked in the bedroom looking at something on his phone. He was on his way to the bathroom when he stopped, doing a double take when he saw me sitting at the desk.

"What the hell are you doing?" As the King of Tact, he snapped without any regard for the meeting I was in. "We have to leave in half an hour."

"Just give me five minutes, please." I tried to keep my tone as neutral as possible, only for the sake of the four employees watching the exchange over Zoom.

They couldn't see my husband, but they could definitely see me.

What alerted Costa to their presence was one of my editors sneezing during the short gap of silence.

He glanced at the laptop with a roll of his eyes. "You have two." He was much quieter this time, but no less deadly.

As soon as he went into the bathroom I turned back to my team.

"Sorry about that. I need to wrap this up." I murmured, looking through the notes I'd made during our talk.

"Phoebe you're going to need to go back to her and find out some more detail on what she wants. Take someone else with you and plan it with her. Then you can book and organise the event without worrying you'll get something wrong."

Usually I would have handled it myself at this point, but I didn't have choice. I had to send her again.

"Okay." Phoebe didn't look happy and I kind of understood why - she didn't want to embarrass herself by approaching a client twice about the same event.

But, it was her job and she didn't carry it out right the first time. It would look worse for the company if we followed the author's extremely vague description of her book launch and then screwed it all up.

"Okay. Keep me updated and we'll schedule another meeting soon." With that we said our goodbyes and I closed my laptop with a sigh. I took off my glasses, rubbing my eyes after staring at a screen for the last five hours straight. I only had a couple of seconds to breathe before Costa came back.

"Can't you read? I said 7pm."

"Is it 7pm now?" I snapped, turning to glare at him. "At least save your tantrum for when I'm actually late."

"Go on then. Let's see if you can get ready in...24 minutes." His challenging tone both infuriated me and tired me.

I didn't have the energy to rush, but I was also not about to let that bitch give me an 'I told you so' look at 7:01pm.

So, I went into my closet to look for a last minute dress. In the end, I opted for a knee-length fitted red dress. It was the perfect statement dress without being too overdressed.

My long brown hair was already straightened so I just went over it again quickly, choosing to let it flow freely. At that point I had about 15 minutes to do my make up. I did a simple glowy base with a wing liner and a bold red lipstick to match my dress.

The red lipstick was a little trick I picked up in my years of having to quickly get ready for random events, dinners or when we had guests coming over. Wearing a red lipstick with simple make up elevates you to a 'I'm here, I look good but I don't really care about you' level.

That's exactly how I felt when I stepped out into our bedroom to see Costa sorting through his weapons on the bed. He had a few guns and knives laid out along with a leather holster.

His blazer was off, leaving him in his white button up shirt that showed off his muscular upper body.

He looked like that classic Mafia leader as he strapped on his leather holster to carry his gun under his jacket.

"Have you got your knife?" He was still facing the bed when he questioned me.

"Do I need it?" I always took my knife with me to events associated with the Greek Mafia. But I wasn't sure if where we were going was that kind of event - the kind I might need to stab someone.

"Take it. Don't ever leave the house without it."

I can't lie, he sounded so dominant and protective that if we were on good terms, it would have earned him some brownie points.

"Aw. Do you care about me, Costa?"

I pouted my red lips as I rounded the bed over to my bedside table where I kept my knife.

The only response I got was in Italian, but I think I can safely assume it wasn't polite.

I took my knife out and the thigh strap from the drawer of my bedside table. It was the same knife I tried to stab Costa with at our engagement party. Who knows? If he pisses me off tonight we might have a repeat of it. I might actually get to draw some blood this time too.

Costa was still by his side of the bed sorting his guns out when I lifted my right leg, placing my bare foot on the edge of the bed.

I caught him shamelessly staring at my exposed leg while I secured the strap around my thigh. It was high enough it wouldn't accidentally become visible later, but not high enough that I flashed my underwear at him while I strapped it in place.

There was a split second that we made eye contact, but that turned into a prolonged few seconds when he refused to be the one to back down and break it.

I've asked it before and I'll ask again, why couldn't I have married a push over?

In the end I rose an eyebrow at him, bringing my foot back down to the floor. "Did you enjoy the show?"

"You say that like I didn't see your legs when you spent those two nights at the villa in my shirt." He muttered disinterestedly, pulling back the hammer on a black hand gun.

I should've known he'd remind me about his shirt.

"That was the only time it will ever happen." I secretly enjoyed it, but he didn't need to know his shirt was comfy and smelled like his cologne.

I sat down to put my heels on while my husband finished playing with his toys like a five year old boy. After Costa secured away a knife and two guns under his jacket, we were ready to leave.

He wasn't in a good mood, that's for sure. He was silent during the journey of down to the front door where his security were all lined up ready to go in black SUVs.

His car for the night was ready - a glossy black Ferrari 812 GTS.

He stormed straight ahead to the drivers seat leaving me by the front door with the butler.

"Is he always like this?" I turned to the butler - a middle aged man with greying hair.

"Signora." (Madam) He tipped his head towards me in a polite nod. I think it was his way of saying 'I plead the fifth, bitch. You're not getting me killed today.'

"Millie!" I used to think I was impatient until I met my husband.

With a sigh I headed across the driveway over to his Ferrari. As soon as I got into the small confines of the sports car, I was hit with the strong scent of his masculine cologne.

"We're already late and then you decide to make small talk with the fucking butler." The engine of the Ferrari roared to life as he berated me.

"We would have been on time if you weren't playing with your weapons like an excited little boy."

"So you'd rather I go out unprepared and leave you alone to fend off our attackers with your little knife?" I didn't appreciate the way he mocked my knife, that's for sure.

I could do some serious damage with that baby.

"No, you should be offering your life in exchange for mine." Despite the annoyance and tension radiating off him, he laughed out loud at my very serious comment.

"If that ever happened, which it wouldn't, I don't think a group of masked men would let you walk free and keep me instead."

He started the car, following the convoy of security cars out of the driveway through the main gates.

"Well, what if they were masked women and they wanted you for your gorgeous looks and charming personality?"

"I know you're being sarcastic right now, but that could actually happen."

He's living in a dream world if he thinks that would ever happen. No person in their right mind would let him go if they found out his net worth.

"No, actually I think they'd keep you for your money and they'd keep me for my-"

"Power to piss anyone off with a single word?" He cut me off, raising an eyebrow with a smirk playing on his lips.

What a little bitch.

"No, my ability to make people smile." My flat tone had Costa chuckling as he sped up behind his security.

Why is it always so sexy when a man drives? Especially if their hands are covered in tattoos like Costa's.

I hate to admit it, but everything Costantino does seems to be sexy. It's just his personality that makes me want to throttle him.

He was distracted by driving through the streets of Palermo which allowed me to analyse him discreetly.

Costa was already tense for multiple reasons - we were late, he hated me, and the drive was less than peaceful on a Friday evening in the city centre.

But even with all of those things, he still relaxed back into the leather seat of his Ferrari. He drove lazily with his right hand while he rubbed his lower lip, his left elbow resting on the window.

He was a good driver, I couldn't fault him even once. He was cool and calm even with the crazy amount of traffic.

That was until his phone rang, lighting up the screen in the car with Giovanni's name. He was hesitant to answer it, but eventually he pressed button on the steering wheel to answer it.

"What?"

"Where are you, Costa?"

"I'm driving. What do you want?" He was just as impatient with his twin cousins as he was with me. Except, he actually liked them.

"Uh...we're in your office."

"My office? Why?" He sat up a little from his relaxed position, a frown now replacing his previously neutral expression.

"Well, we came looking for you but we couldn't find you. Then we saw that basket of chocolates that sleazy politician sent you, so we ate some."

Costa now used his free hand to rub his face, his body becoming even more tense as the seconds passed. "Get to the point, Giovanni."

"Right. Well, Aidan might have eaten too much.

" The hesitancy in his tone gave away that he was leading to something bad - something his cousin wouldn't be happy with.

"He started feeling sick so we tried a distraction because that's what Google said.

If you feel sick you're supposed to distract yoursel-"

"Gio, I'm about ten seconds away from sending out a hit on you and your brother." Costa spoke through gritted teeth, picking up his speed behind his security guards.

"He threw up."

"He threw up in my office?" Costa grimaced.

"Uh...well, technically yes. But...well, he was sitting in your chair and then he threw up on your desk...all over the papers."

I couldn't help it. I burst out laughing.

Giovanni fell quiet and Costa glanced over at me while I continued to chuckle uncontrollably.

Of all the places, the most sacred place to a Mafioso is his office and his desk.

It has a lot to do with the power.

A business man feels his most comfortable, at ease, and in control behind his desk. He commands the room and whoever is listening to him. His position behind the desk reflects his position in the hierarchy.

And now Costa's desk was violated in the worst way which was hilarious to me. I hadn't laughed like that since way before the wedding day and it definitely felt good.

"Sorry, sorry. Carry on." I sighed in contentment, leaning back into my seat.

"Why is she listening to our conversation?" Gio's voice became surprisingly hard which Costa didn't appreciate.

"Because she's in the car and it's not your place to question me. Get that shit cleaned up, Gio. Then I want you and your brother to check each document he ruined and make sure a replacement is printed out."

"Hell no. That's disgusting."

"Gio." Costa's warning tone should have had his cousin backing down immediately.

"There's no way, you can't make us do that. One of the staff can-"

"That shit is private, Giovanni. It's already bad enough someone will need to come in and clean it, I don't want them analysing the documents while they're there."

"Ask someone you trust then. It's not our problem." Giovanni definitely sounded like a petulant teenager.

"You're the one who was in his office without permission in the first place." I kind of muttered my thoughts before letting my filter stop me.

But, even if it wasn't my place, it was the truth. They shouldn't have been in his office - there's so much information in there that needs to be protected.

Julius's office was the same at home. As the heir, he was privy to information that most would never even know existed. But that meant he had to be extra strict with who went into his office and who went close to his desk.

"I didn't ask you, bitch."

On instinct I opened my mouth to put Giovanni back in his place, but Costa quickly spoke before I could.

"Ti ho dato degli ordini, Giovanni. Parlale con rispetto." (I gave you an order, Giovanni. Speak to her with respect.)

"Dille di tenersi alla larga dai miei affari, allora." (Tell her to keep out of my business then.) Giovanni's response had Costa tightening his grip on the steering wheel. Meanwhile, I awkwardly shifted in my seat.

I hated it when they switched to Italian around me, but I guess I should get used to it. Until I found time to start learning the language, they'd always be able to have private conversations right in front of me.

"Non rispondermi. Risolvi quello che hai combinato nel mio ufficio e poi restane fuori. A voi idioti è vietato entrare da ora in poi." (Don't talk back to me. Fix what you messed up in my office then stay the hell out of it. You idiots are banned from entering from now on.)

"Qualunque cosa. Continua a preferire tua moglie a noi e ci perderai, Costa." (Whatever. Keep choosing your wife over us and you'll lose us, Costa.) Giovanni suddenly hung up the phone which brought the radio back on.

Costa's anger was radiating in waves as he drove faster than before down the streets of the coastal city.

The tension in the already confined car was suffocating.

Another few minutes passed before Costa pulled up to a hotel entrance behind his security. He turned the car off as his security all filed out of the SUVs and came to the Ferrari. They were quick to surround the car while also opening the doors for us.

We made our way inside the lobby and Costa seemed to already know where he was going.

"I know you already know all the rules, but just to be clear - you don't talk to anyone. Just wait until they talk to you." He kept his voice low as we approached a fancy Japanese restaurant in the hotel.

I immediately thought of my favourite food causing a rush of excitement to flow through me.

"Sushi. I love sushi." I turned to look at him with an excited grin, completely forgetting who it was for that split second.

It wasn't Damian or Julius. It wasn't someone who was my friend. He didn't even seem to notice when my smile dropped, along with my heart. My excitement vanished as it quickly as it came leaving an empty hollow behind.

We walked through the bustling restaurant with a warm and inviting atmosphere. The guard at the door to the private room barely spared me a glance as he stepped aside, opening the door for Costa and I to pass.

The interior of the room was much more intimate. There was a large table in the middle with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background. Around the table were two other couples - one old and one similar to our age.

"Deputato Ragusa. è bello rivederti." (Deputy Ragusa. It's good to see you again.) Costa approached the older man, holding his hand out for a handshake.

"Signor Accardi. Stai bene. Questa è tua moglie, presumo." (Mr Accardi. You're looking well. This is your wife, I presume.)

"Sì ma è greca, non parla italiano." (Yes but she's Greek, she doesn't speak Italian.)

I could tell they were talking about me from some of the obvious words and the way everyone in the room looked at me. Their expressions were almost horrified - apparently the Greek woman should be fluent in Italian only a week after moving here.

"Well, in that case we'll switch to English for the night. We wouldn't want to appear rude." The man laughed, his eyes crinkling at the sides as he did.

If only my husband and his family were so courteous with their choice of language around me.

"I'm Deputy Ragusa. I'm a politician here in Sicily." The man held his hand out for me as I followed suit in introducing myself.

"Millie." I smiled, taking his hand. "It's nice to meet you." It was simple and to the point which would hopefully keep my husband from making any unnecessary comments later.

Deputy Ragusa returned the smile, placing a chaste kiss to the back of my hand.

"The pleasure is all mine. Let me introduce you to my wife, Carmella." He nodded towards the woman standing next to him and then to the younger couple. "And my daughter Beatrice and her husband Ivan."

After the introductions we were all promptly seated around the table.

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to make it to your wedding. The invitation was very last minute - I'm sure you can understand." Deputy Ragusa aimed his apology towards me coupled with a kind smile.

"Oh. It's okay. We knew it was a little rushed but we just didn't want to wait too long after Costa proposed." That was my standard line on our wedding day when anyone asked me why the wedding was so fast.

One of my Greek aunties even asked me if I was pregnant. The fact I'm a 25 year old virgin only made that question more painfully ironic.

"That's understandable. Young love is a force to be reckoned with." He laughed, nodding towards his wife. "When Carmella and I got married she wanted a well planned, lavish wedding. Meanwhile, I was willing to do anything quick if it meant she would be mine faster. Right, Costantino?"

Costa tensed next to me, but easily played it off with a smile and a nod.

"So it's only been a week?" Carmella smiled.

"Yes. One week ago today." I nodded, turning to smile at Costa as if I was a doting wife.

"Are you not planning a honeymoon? Surely you would take your beautiful bride away instead of bringing her to business dinners, Costantino?" Deputy Ragusa laughed, but his tone gave away how curious he was.

Our charade was barely believable in my opinion. We were making it out as if we rushed our wedding because we were so in love. Yet, Costa couldn't bring himself to say a word to me or even look at me.

"It's in the works. I have some work to attend to in Palermo over the next few weeks but I'll be sure to take her somewhere soon." He forced a smile just as a waitress came back in to take our drinks order.

I ordered a martini while Costa stuck with Campari.

"So, Millie. What do your parents do?"

So he doesn't know about the Greek Mafia? If he was asking, that means he didn't know about the alliance.

"My parents?" I frowned, trying not to let the edge bite into my tone. Are we still in that day and age where a woman's status is dependent on her parent's status?

"Yes. Your mother and father. What do they do?"

"Uh..." I cleared my throat, glancing over at Costa who gave me a subtle shake of the head. "My father owns his own...business and my mother doesn't work."

"Right." He nodded before turning his attention fully towards my husband. The action signified the end of our conversation.

He wasn't impressed by my answer - I guess my status isn't high enough for him.

Jokes on him, I'm known as royalty in Greece. I just wasn't allowed to let him in on that little detail.

After that, there was very little small talk before Costa and Deputy Ragusa launched into a discussion about business. It didn't take long for them to switch to their native tongue either. Actually, the rest of the politician's family also spoke among themselves in Italian.

I tried to speak to them a few times but the conversations ended really quickly when they gave me one word responses. The fact we were in a private room meant I couldn't even people watch. I just had the few Japanese art pieces to admire.

That left me to sit alone with my depressingly small platter of sushi.

Usually Damian and I order a huge platter of different rolls and pieces. But since I was alone and apparently the only one eating sushi, I had to choose a smaller selection.

I did ask Costa if he wanted to get sushi with me but he didn't reply.

And that's how the rest of the evening went - with me surrounded by people speaking Italian.

Actually, every one of the events I later attended with Costa were the same. It was all because of the marriage contract - I couldn't refuse to go to an event with him.

If it was a dinner, I was forced to sit and eat quietly. If it was a gala or a ball, I stood by his side as his trophy wife while he mingled with guests - again, most likely speaking in Italian.

And each time we left an event I'd spend the drive silently wondering why I even bothered to get ready.

The worst part about going out is coming home late and having to take all the make up off. It was worth it when I used to go to my own family events and dinners for the good of the Greek Mafia. But not when it was for Costantino and his reputation.

Especially when he was so oblivious to how I felt.

"Why do you look so pissed?" Costa questioned me as we ascended the stairs in the Accardi villa heading back to our room.

"Why do you think?" I just wasted three hours staring at Japanese art.

"Was the food not up to your standards, principessa?" He mocked, stopping ahead to turn and face me.

By that point I didn't have the energy or the care to argue with him. I passed him, smelling the lingering scent of the Cuban cigar he smoked with the Deputy Ragusa earlier.

"It was one of the best restaurants in Palermo. You should be grateful you even got to come with me."

I couldn't tell if he genuinely meant that or if he was just lashing out because I ignored him.

Either way, I gave him my reply.

"Trust me, nothing you could ever do for me would be enough for me to be grateful to you." He's responsible for too much to ever make up for it now. There's nothing to be grateful for.

"That's because you're daddy's spoiled little princess. As soon as you don't get what you want you throw a tantrum or pull a knife." It might seem like Costa was incensed or even mildly invested in the argument. But actually, he was about 80% focused on his phone when he replied to me.

I just wasn't worth his time.

But now he wasn't worth mine anymore. I knew I had a 'duty' to him because of the contract and because it was just the way the institution of the Mafia worked. I wasn't powerful enough to change the rules of a centuries old organisation.

But other than that, I didn't want to spend my time and energy arguing with him.

So, I just ignored him.

I got changed in my closet while Costa made a phone call in the bedroom.

"It happened again?" He sighed, but it was more of a 'damn, now I gotta kill someone' kind of sigh. "This is the third time this month."

Costa fell silent while I removed my wedding rings and the pieces of jewellery I wore that night. I managed to unzip my own dress while he now laid into the guy on the phone, using a long list of curse words I don't care to repeat.

I actually felt lucky to be in the safety of my closet and not in the same room as him when I heard how angry he actually was.

I changed out of my dress into my silk sleep shorts and matching camisole.

Costa didn't even bat an eye when I passed him in the bedroom and into the bathroom to brush my teeth and wash off my make up.

Well, that was the plan until my heart dropped to the pit of my stomach at the unwanted sight.

My eyes registered the huge black spider on the wall and my body reacted before my mind could even catch up. I stumbled backwards unable to look away from the thick spider that must have come in through the open window.

I told Costa to spider proof the place but he didn't pay me any attention and now look.

Even though it was across the room, I couldn't function knowing it was even in the same vicinity as me.

How was I supposed to brush my teeth while my heart raced and my palms became sweaty?

It made me sick to look at it but I just couldn't look away.

My mind was on high alert as if it was about to attack me or something.

Rational or not, my feelings were very, very real. I couldn't control them. My fear of spiders was just part of me and my personality.

Very soon I could feel myself shaking as I scanned the room for the next steps. But none of the options I came up with ended with me capturing the spider.

I didn't even care how bad it would look for my pride, that's how terrified I was of spiders.

I hurried back out into the bedroom where Costa was still arguing on the phone. This time though, he did look at me questioningly when I stopped a few feet away from him, almost on the verge of a panic attack.

"I'll call you back." He lowered the phone, a frown replacing the enraged expression he was sporting a few moments ago.

"What happened?" Concern was evident in his tone as he stepped closer to me, his eyes snapping to the bathroom door behind me.

I guess for a future Mafia leader he immediately went to the worst case scenario like he was trained to do. I'm sure based on my terrified expression alone, his assumptions weren't actually that far fetched. I probably did look like someone covered the bathroom walls in blood or something.

Costa took out a gun from his holster, his guard going straight up. He passed me as he headed towards the bathroom to face the problem head on.

"Th-there's...there's a spider."

He took another two steps after he heard my faint whisper until he actually processed what I just said.

Then he came to a sudden stop.

He took a second before slowly turning to face me, that previous fury now back in full force.

"A spider?" His voice was eerily calm - the calm before the storm.

"On the wall." And my voice was that of a terrified little girl who decided she no longer wanted to go in the haunted house at the fun fair and had to leave through an emergency exit.

Yes, I'm speaking from experience - sue me, bitch. Those clowns are terrifying as hell.

Costa gave me an incredulous look. A scoff escaped his plump lips and he shook his head, tossing the gun down on a nearby table. The thud had me flinching due to the adrenaline running through my veins.

"Un dannato ragno." (A damn spider) He muttered softly

under his breath, shaking his head.

"You need to grow the hell up, Millie." Now he was glaring at me like I was the biggest pain in his life.

"Costa, I-"

"You know what the phone call was about?

One of my top men was shot in his own fucking home.

It's happened three fucking times this month already.

Then you come back here looking like you've seen a fucking ghost." He came closer to me, completely and utterly seething.

"Viktor Kozlov declared war on your family and mine.

That's not to mention the Serbian Mafia he's roped into this whole thing as well.

Do you not understand what that fucking means? "

He looked down at me as if he was scolding a child - a child he absolutely despised.

"Any second someone could make an attempt on your life.

Any guard could be paid off to hurt you or leave you a message.

I know you've been a sheltered, spoiled little princess all your life, but you need to get a fucking grip of yourself Millie, or you're going to end up dead faster than you think.

You stupid, stupid little girl." He spat those parting words out at me before storming past me and out of the bedroom.

It didn't take long for the hot tears to spill over onto my cheeks once he was gone and out of the room. I was left watching the door through blurry vision as the tears fell from my eyes.

His words continued to repeat in my head over and over again - completely invalidating the phobia I've had for as long as I could remember.

Being petrified of spiders wasn't something I could control or something I chose. It didn't warrant that kind of outburst.

I soon found myself sitting at the edge of the bed when someone knocked on the bedroom door. I furiously wiped away at my cheeks, hoping my make up wouldn't give away that I'd been crying. I crossed my bare legs, moving my hair to my front to cover myself up a little more.

"C-come in." I hiccuped, fixing my silk pyjamas.

The door opened to reveal a young maid who nervously stepped into the bedroom. Just by the way her eyes widened and she stopped in her tracks I knew my attempt to hide my crying was futile.

"Signora...sta bene?" (Madame...are you okay?) Since I had no clue what she said, I just stared back at her with a little sniffle. She was quick to speak again, stumbling a little to get her sentence out.

"Signora, il signor Accardi mi ha chiesto di venire ad ammazzare un ragno nel bagno." (Madame, Mr Accardi asked me to come and kill a spider in the bathroom.)

"I don't..." She clearly got the hint because she pointed to the bathroom door and then to herself as if to ask permission.

Costa sent her to catch the spider?

I so badly wanted to scoff, but I chose to reign in my aggression and save it for the man who deserved it.

I nodded my head and she immediately scurried into the bathroom and shut the door, leaving me alone again.

How could he react so harshly? I understood the pressures of living in this life better than anyone. But, my fear of spiders had followed me all my life. It's not something I can control, so how could he degrade me and put me down so much?

Then he sends a maid to do what he should have just done in the first fucking place.

If there was a final nail in the coffin to signify the end of any potential relationship we could have, this was it. I knew I'd never forgive him for how he spoke to me. I couldn't care less for him, for his Mafia or his family.

That was the breaking point for us.

We soon became that couple who never spoke, ever.

Costa didn't spend a second with me if he didn't need to. He'd leave me notes or texts if he needed me to attend an event or a dinner with him.

There were often huge family dinners that took place here. Not just the Accardi family though, it would include all their top members of La Famiglia. It was the only time Costa and I ate together in the dining room for dinner.

We had an equivalent in the Greek Mafia, but my presence wasn't usually required. But here I was Costa's wife, so I was expected to attend every single one.

I never knew in advance if he was staying out late or going away for business. I just had to figure it out as I went along. I don't think it's outrageous to assume he also made time for sexual meetings with other women, too.

That Melina woman was still staying in the house for a while after we got married. He spent a hell of a lot of time with her before she eventually left. Even then, some nights he didn't come home until the middle of the night, if he even came home at all.

Sometimes he'd be gone for days, even up to a week. He went away with his brothers and the twins and just left me here in his family's house.

And we easily fell into that routine.

The next three months of our marriage passed with hardly any interactions. His family barely acknowledged my presence and neither did he. Even at the dinners I'd sit silently since they all spoke in Italian.

My routine was the same pretty much everyday. I'd wake up and have breakfast alone in the dining room while they ate in the kitchen. Afterwards, I'd hit the gym for a workout and then take a shower.

Usually, I'd catch up on emails and other work before taking my meetings in the afternoon which continued into the evening.

If we weren't going out or hosting a dinner here, then I'd eat dinner alone or sometimes I'd FaceTime my family in New York at the same time.

To finish the night, I'd watch a movie in our room before bed.

It was exactly the way I expected it to be. But it was also what I feared would happen when my father ever suggested marriage to me.

I was a romantic at heart, I believed in love and passionate relationships. But my marriage was an empty, hollow shell. We were two people who despised each other and it didn't seem like that would ever change.

And I didn't want it to because I hated him.