Epilogue 2
An hour later we were all gathered in the living room to watch a movie. Costa, Rocco and the twins had been out all day, so they wanted to relax. I was finally enjoying a milkshake after running a multi-million dollar publishing company and looking after multiple children.
Tristano and his wife were also were with us, but they were too busy making out to contribute to the conversation.
"Oh, come on." I scoffed, slurping loudly on my strawberry milkshake. My goal was to irritate as many members of the Accardi family as I could.
I'm proud to say I was successful - especially with the death glare my husband gave me.
He was moody because he had to go out and get my milkshake so late in the evening.
"You don't believe me?" Rocco asked, looking rather amused. He spared me a glance before turning his attention back to the TV while the twins tried to find a movie for our movie night.
Even at 25 years old, all those twins do is eat junk food and watch movies. Unless they're working. Once they turned 21, Costa finally began mentoring them properly. It was a tough journey but he's finally getting somewhere four years later.
"Of course not. I don't believe you'd ever have a girlfriend. Ever since I met you you've been determined to end up alone."
"Hey. We all know I'll never get the chance to be alone." He rejected the idea, looking around the room. "I have all these idiots around me every day."
"Hey!"
"Fuck you, bro."
The twins were the only ones who reacted to Rocco's jibe. Costa didn't care because he was on his phone and he was still pouting about my love for milkshakes. And Tristano was too busy making out with his wife in the corner of the room.
It's funny because they thought no one could see them if they went to that particular corner in the main living room. But there was actually a huge mirror across the room which let everyone see everything they were doing.
I did try and warn them, but Rocco stopped me. Apparently they've all placed bets on how long it will take them to realise their favourite make out spot is the worst place in the house.
"I meant romantically." I clarified. "You've always been happy to end up alone romantically."
"That was before I met Chiara." Rocco smiled, clearly enjoying the major mind fuck he just caused me. "And ever since Damian settled down with that blonde woman. It's no fun going out without your wingman. And my two idiot brothers are already taken."
Rocco sent Costa and Tristano a look, but neither of them cared to acknowledge it.
"Bro, I kept telling you I'd be your wingman." Giovanni jumped in while Aidan scoffed to himself.
That's the one place where Gio and Aidan are polar opposites. Aidan believes in romance and long term relationships whereas Gio was turning into the next Rocco. He was prepared to sleep with anyone.
"No. I don't want you." Rocco glared at Gio before turning his attention back to me.
The longer I stared into the eyes of Costa's future Underboss, the more it dawned on me that he was telling the truth.
"Wait, you've really got a girlfriend?"
"Sì." He nodded, once again looking back at the TV. Gio was taking way too fucking long to choose a movie.
"Did you know?" I turned to Costa who barely paid me any attention.
"He told me this morning."
"And you didn't tell me?" Outraged. I was outraged.
"When? Before or after I got your fucking milkshake for you?" He cocked an eyebrow at me, genuinely curious as to when he should have told me.
"As soon as you found out. We're married. You're not allowed to keep secrets from me."
"You mean how you keep secrets from Costa?" Aidan jumped in, flashing me a smirk.
"Excuse me. What secrets do I-"
"Every single fucking shopping bag you bring into this house." This time it was Rocco who answered - completely blowing my secret.
"Shhh." I suddenly sat up. "He's not supposed to know about that!" I spoke in a hushed whisper before glancing over at my highly amused husband.
Costa put me on a shopping ban a few months ago after I went a bit crazy buying new clothes for Sandro, my Middle Milk and their incoming baby brother. And I might have bought myself some things too.
But it was mostly for the children.
Mostly.
But Costa didn't believe me. So he put me on a shopping ban. He said I'd eventually run out of space in the huge ass villa if I carried on the way I was.
Which is stupid because he's rich enough to hire out a storage unit if necessary. For his things, though. Not mine. If I ever ran out of closet space, his things would be the first to go.
Of course, I didn't listen to a word that maláka said. I still went shopping weekly with Daria and Riviera - whenever she was back in Sicily with her daughter.
But I had to hide the shopping bags when I came back so he wouldn't see them.
So far, I was doing well. Agata and Greta would wait in the garage for me and they'd sneak my bags up to one of the guest rooms that was hardly ever used.
He never saw any bags and whenever he did find something he thought was new, I just gaslit him until he believed it was an old item.
But now Rocco and Aidan just blew my whole operation.
"You thought I didn't know?" Costa chuckled, his green eyes dancing with amusement.
"What?" I frowned. "You knew?"
"Of course I did. Have you forgotten I have people watching you at all times?
Even if you think you're sneaking out, I know where you are.
Your phone has a tracker and so do all the cars.
" So maybe my operation wasn't as covert as I thought.
"Oh, and there's the little issue of you using my credit card. "
His final revelation had the rest of the idiots in the room laughing. Even Tristano and his wife stopped making out long enough to laugh.
"You said it's the credit card you don't check as often." I murmured, a light blush coating my cheeks.
"Sure, if it's a couple hundred dollars. But we both know your shopping doesn't fall into that budget." He laughed, clearly enjoying my flustered reaction.
But he forgot who he was dealing with. I'm a boss bitch book publisher.
Boss bitches don't stay down for long.
"So?" I quipped back challengingly, turning to face him. "So, I've been shopping in secret. What are you going to do about it?"
When in doubt call him out. That's what I learned in the last seven years.
Of course, that didn't always work out well for me.
"Don't be surprised if our baby's first word is a curse word."
"Costa, you can't swear around children. It's a universal rule."
"I don't follow rules." He waved me off, using my fork to eat another piece of fruit.
"Just wait - if you even try to swear around my children, I'll kick your ass."
"I think we both know you can't kick my ass." He smirked, still using my fork while his own perfectly fine fork sat on his own plate.
"Yes, I can." I snapped, full of determination.
He rose an eyebrow at me, pausing his movements. He held my stare, almost like he was thinking about something. Then he suddenly put the fork down, standing to his feet. I watched him come closer, his green eyes sparkling with mischief.
"What are yo-" Before I could finish my sentence, he reached down to scoop me up into his arms.
"Costa!" I yelped as he effortlessly threw me over his shoulder, now heading towards the shore. "Costa, put me down!"
"If you can kick my ass, do it." He challenged me, still walking with ease while I struggled to get out of his hold.
"I didn't mean right now! I've just eaten! Costa!" I screeched, hanging upside down over his shoulder. "I swear, if I throw up I'm going to murder you!"
He stepped into the shallow ocean, the water reaching just below his knees. Then he suddenly adjusted my position, now holding me bridal style.
"Still think you can kick my ass?" He smirked down at me, while I held onto him, looking down at the crystal clear water.
"Get me back to the sand! I mean it." I glared at him, hating the way he looked so fucking smug.
Stupid maláka.
"Just admit you were wrong and I'll make sure you stay nice and dry." He grinned, now swinging me for emphasis. Any second he could drop me in the water, ruining the expensive silk pyjamas I was still wearing from early this morning.
"Bitch, this is pure silk. If you even think about-"
I didn't get to finish my sentence before he let me go, dropping me on the soft sand of the shore.
I yelped at the contact, the water much warmer than I expected it to be at this time of the morning.
Since the waves were still lapping around me, a splash of salt water went into my mouth causing my scrunch my nose in disgust.
I looked up at my husband who chuckled at the sight of me completely drenched. The water reached my shoulders, soaking the ends of my hair.
He didn't even bother to help me up. The smug bitch just watched me struggle to get up, my clothes now clinging to my body.
"Fuck you." I glared at him, immediately launching myself at him.
And then there was that time after our wedding when I called him out asking if anyone fears or respects him.
He almost killed me that day.
"There's nothing here. There's no food, no coffee, no-"
"Then why don't you shut up so I can call someone?" His furious green orbs shifted to me across the open plan area.
"You have five minutes to get someone to agree to come here Costa, or I swear I will-"
"What the hell are you going to do?" He cut me off, striding closer to where I stood in the kitchen.
"I can do a lot. Right now I don't even care about the prison outfit. Yellow or orange, I don't care. I'll kill you if you don't-"
"You're threatening me? Really?" He scoffed, pinning me with a mocking expression. "I could snap your neck with my bare hands and wait here peacefully next to your dead body until the car comes tomorrow."
O-kay...
"I always knew you were a psycho." I narrowed my eyes at him before nodding. "I respect it."
Costa shook his head, bringing his phone to his ear to call someone else.
He ended up calling six different people and each one refused to come here. With each call my anger was rising while I sat on the kitchen counter watching him. I was swinging my legs back and forth watching him struggle to get one person to agree.
"I thought I married a feared mobster." I scoffed when he hung up on the sixth person with no luck. "Why are they all saying no? Does no one respect you or something?"
And that was the second trigger.
The first was Costa's mother.
The second was questioning his position in the Sicilian Mafia.
A scream ripped through me when he suddenly launched a heavy ornament in my direction. The glass ornament shattered on the wall only inches to my left.
"Are you crazy?!" I screeched, hopping down off the counter. "That could have hurt me!"
"And yet you're still talking." He muttered, tossing his phone on the coffee table in frustration.
"Just because your family and your men are as psychotic as you, that doesn't mean you have the right to throw shit at me." Costa didn't reply, instead he leaned against the couch, throwing his head back. The tension in the room remained high as he closed his eyes, releasing a breath.
So I think we've now established calling Costa out isn't necessarily a good thing for me.
Maybe I shouldn't have asked him what he's going to do about my secret shopping sprees.
What if he forces me to donate all my new clothes? As if I haven't donated half of my closet already thanks to him.
I could tell he was about to say something that would annoy me, but thankfully he didn't get a chance. Because he was interrupted by the only girl who would ever truly have Costantino Salvatore Accardi wrapped around her little finger.
"Papa!"
"Lia?" Costa frowned, sitting up straight on the couch when she came running in. "What are you-"
"I missed you!" She giggled launching herself on top of him. The rest of us watched as Costa struggled to keep our giggly three year old under control when she climbed on top of him.
During the chaos, I was vaguely aware of Tristano and his wife abandoning their make out session to just go upstairs instead.
He could never keep his hands off his wife for too long.
In the end, everyone agreed Tristano was better as Costa's Consigliere instead of his Underboss. He always preferred to stay in Sicily and be Costa's closest advisor from here where he could stay with his wife. Whereas Rocco proved to be Costa's right hand man - staying by his side always.
They did eventually get over their differences but it took a while. Tristano is very protective over his wife, so he couldn't handle anyone suggesting his wife came between him and La Famiglia or that she was the reason he was pretty much demoted from being Costa's Underboss.
Once they left the room, I turned my attention back to Costa and our daughter just as he got her settled. Then he just held her in his arms as if there were no problems in the world.
"Aren't you supposed to be asleep, Lia?" Rocco interjected - asking the question Costa should have asked her when she appeared.
"No." She shook her head, giving her favourite uncle a toothy grin. "Papa said no."
"Papa said no?" I cocked an eyebrow at my husband who was busy stroking Amalia's hair.
"I said no such thing." He tried to defend himself, but he barely sounded like he cared. He was too content having her in his arms.
Costa sighed, settling Amalia into his lap, his arm wrapped protectively around her.
"You know, if you keep letting her do whatever she wants, she's going to grow up thinking she can walk all over you." I teased, eyeing the way he became so relaxed with her in his arms.
Costa rolled his eyes, leaning his head back against the couch. "I'd like to see anyone try to walk all over me. But her? She's different."
Amalia turned, giving me a smug little smile, fully aware of the power she had over her father. I couldn't even be mad at her for it – I knew exactly where she got it from.
Me, of course.
I'm a boss bitch and I'm definitely teaching her to follow in my footsteps.
"Papa, when are you gonna tell me more of the story about when you married Mama?" She asked sweetly, settling deeper into his lap.
She was also a romantic at heart. While Sandro was obsessed with the police, my Middle Milk was fascinated by love, romance, princes and princesses and everything I once believed was a fairytale.
But it wasn't. Because true love really does exist.
Costa chuckled, running a hand through her hair. "You think you're ready for more, baby?"
She nodded eagerly, wide-eyed. He glanced at me, almost as if she was seeking permission. I just shrugged, amused at the idea of how he'd tell her the story.
"Where did we get to last time?"
"You married Mama and danced. But you hated it. And you hated Mama." She giggled the last part while Rocco scoffed.
"Some of us still hate your mama." He grumbled, reaching over to snatching the remote from the twins after they took way too damn long choosing a movie.
"Screw you." I snapped back, just about catching the small smile on his lips before I turned my attention back to my daughter.
"Sì. Then we were going home, but your zii decided to play a trick." (Uncles) Costa muttered, eyeing Rocco. "They sent us to a house far away."
"Really?" She gasped. "Like another kingdom?"
"Uh...well it was about an hour down the A29, but yeah sure. Another kingdom. So we had to stay there together. We fought all night for the blankets. Then the day after me and your mama got married, she woke me up like a crazy person."
"No, I didn't." I jumped in, narrowing my eyes at him. "Don't lie to her, Costa."
"I'm not. If I remember correctly, you went on some rant about spider proofing and then hit me with a pillow."
Oh.
Yeah. I did that.
But it was his fault. He didn't spider proof the place. Only a psycho doesn't spiderproof.
I finished freshening up and then I nervously checked the bathroom for any unwanted guests. It was clear, thankfully. I put the plug down and went on my merry way to calmly and kindly alert my husband to his careless behaviour.
"Hey!" I approached the bed with a new found sense of determination. Seriously, how could he be that stupid?
"Shut up." He groaned, burying his face into the pillow.
"Wake up." I got on the bed on my knees, grabbing my pillow to whack him. The action had the desired effect and he quickly sat up, his green eyes narrowed at me.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I should be asking you the same question. Why didn't you put the plug down last night?"
For once he fell quiet, confusion written all over his face. "What?" He blinked.
"The plug...in the sink." I gave him a 'seriously' look, but he just sat there utterly clueless. "The plug!"
"I heard you the first time, you crazy bitch." He spat. "Who the hell puts the plug down?"
"Normal people! Do you really want a swarm of spiders coming up through the drains and laying eggs in the bathroom all night?"
"Il tuo posto è in un fotutto reparto psichiatrico." (You belong in a fucking psych ward.)
Psichiatrico. Did this bitch just call me a psycho?
I mean, I might have said it a little aggressively but it was completely warranted in this scenario.
If we're going to survive this marriage, he needs to take this seriously. One of us could easily be killed by a spider bite and it sure as shit won't be me because of his careless behaviour. I'd be coming back to haunt his ass if I died by a spider bite.
"I'm not crazy but you must be. Don't you know some spiders can kill with a single bite?
Plus, they're ugly as hell. Seriously Costa, from now on you have to keep the rooms spider proof.
That means close the windows and keep the plugs down in the sink and the bath.
Usually I just make sure the shower drain is cleaned regularly so-"
"You do realise I'm not listening anymore, right?" During my rant he'd lay back down on his pillow to close his eyes. I was still perched on my knees looking down at him.
"Just say you'll put the-"
"Gesù Cristo. Fine! Just shut the fuck up now." (Jesus Christ) He snatched the pillow I'd been using to hit him, putting it over his head so he could go back to sleep.
If I just apply a little pressure I could cut off his air supply.
No. I quickly shook the tantalising thoughts out of my head.
No, I will not kill my husband on our first morning as a couple.
I won't be that bitch.
I don't look good in orange.
Wait, do they even wear orange in Sicilian prisons?
Maybe they wear yellow? Sicily is famous for its lemons. And the yellow outfits would make them all a lot happier while they're locked away for their heinous crimes.
"Hey." I yanked the pillow off his head causing him to release a very vulgar profanity. "What colour do they wear in prison here? Is it orange or yellow?"
"What? How the fuck am I supposed to know?" He groaned with an edge of pain in his voice. I think he was about to cry at this point.
"You're a criminal." I pointed out matter of factly, still on my knees next to him on the bed. "Surely you know someone who's been to prison."
"Ask Rocco when we get back home."
"Wait, what? Rocco's been to prison?" I frowned, although, it did make sense. Rocco was the most unhinged member of the Accardi family that I'd met so far.
"Yeah, a few years ago. He was arrested for GBH." He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.
"How long was he-"
"Three days. I got him out." Costa pushed me away so he could finally sit up, leaning against the headboard. I guess he'd given up on trying to sleep with me sitting right next to him.
It was probably for the best.
"You got him out...? You broke him out of prison?!" I stared at him wide eyed.
Suddenly I'm married to the next Michael Schofield.
"What? No! Are you really this stupid? I paid a judge to release him."
"Oh, and that's so much better." Hasn't he heard of the corruption epidemic?
While Costa and I were busy glaring at each other, Amalia looked between us with that cute little smile on her face. She loved watching us bicker, it was her favourite thing.
Then a thought suddenly occurred to me.
"Hey." I turned to look at Rocco while he was busy scrolling through a list of gangster movies - of course.
"What's up?"
"When you went to prison, what colour was your outfit?"
"We didn't have an outfit. We just wore normal clothes."
Normal clothes?
After all these years, that was my answer?
How disappointing.
"Oh." I sighed, sipping on my milkshake.
So, wait. If I did kill Costa with the pillow that day, that meant I would have been able to wear my designer clothes in prison?
A moment later Rocco finally settled on a movie to watch, so we could all finally relax.
"Wait." Aidan suddenly jumped up with his phone, forcing Rocco to pause the movie 10 seconds in.
"Now what?" He huffed.
"Bianca is calling. I'll be back. Wait for me."
"We're not waiting." Rocco grumbled, but Giovanni snatched the remote away from him.
"Yes, we are. I need to take a piss."
"You just went before we sat down." I think Rocco was about to combust. I would have too if I wasn't drinking a milkshake.
My milkshake kept me calm.
"Yeah, and look how long it took to choose the movie. I need to go again now."
"It was your fault, you little fu-"
"Hey!" Costa quickly cut in, covering Amalia's ears. Then he flashed Rocco a cold glare - like, sub-zero kind of cold. "Don't swear in front of Lia."
So, Costa doesn't care about swearing in front of his son, Sandro. But the moment anyone even comes close to saying a bad word in front of Amalia, all hell will break loose.
"Can I kick your ass in front of Li-"
"So." I quickly cut Rocco off, sending him a glare. "You ready for bed, baby?"
"No, Mama. I want to stay with Papa."
"It's really late, baby. I don't know why you even got up. I put you to bed two hours ago."
"I missed Papa." Now she was glaring at me. Kind of like how I used to glare at my parents when I didn't get what I wanted.
Except, they'd glare straight back and I'd quietly go to my room without another word.
But Amalia wasn't like that.
"Can I stay, Papa?" She used her puppy dog eyes - the ones she knows Costa can't handle.
"I'd love for you to stay." He spoke softly, brushing a kiss on her forehead. "But it's past your bedtime, isn't it?"
Amalia pouted, her lower lip quivering in a way that even had me second-guessing my own firmness. But only for a second.
Because she's a master actress and she knew it.
Costa's resolve melted like ice in the Sicilian sun, and he sighed, defeated.
"Five more minutes." He muttered, shaking his head, already resigning himself to her charms.
I heard Rocco scoff in the background before he left the room, mumbling something about going to smoke a cigar - something he wasn't allowed to do around our children.
Amalia flashed a triumphant smile my way before snuggling closer to Costa. Now it was just three of us alone, I just sat quietly and watched them interact. Moments like this, when Costa let his guard down for his family, reminded me of the man he could be underneath the hard exterior.
Over the last seven years I'd seen many sides to Costa. And as his father continued to amp up his training, I got to see that ruthless, mob boss side come out even more.
Sometimes he'd even struggle to shake it off when he got home - especially since all his family and his father were here too. They all struggled to separate their work from their home life.
But I think it was Amalia who brought that soft side out - the one he struggled to find when we first got married.
Seven years ago, Costantino Accardi had no idea how to hold down a real relationship. He had a reputation for being a manwhore - one that almost destroyed our marriage countless times.
But he managed to figure out how to love me and how to put me above the Mafia - as much as he could anyway. Unfortunately, this life isn't a fairytale. He might have prioritised me, but that couldn't always happen. La Famiglia was also a huge part of him and his life, which I understood.
And then when Sandro was born, he became more determined to be a good Don just so he could guide Sandro into taking his place.
At times he even became consumed by the worry and anxiety about Sandro having to live the same life he did.
He pushed himself so hard in his work that it started impacting our relationship at times.
But then Amalia was born. And it seemed like his baby girl was the thing to ground him all over again.
She reminded him of what was important in life. She gave him a place to escape to, somewhere he didn't have to keep his guard up.
She took over his heart.
Now we're expecting another baby boy and I just know everything he's learned along the way will prepare him for this new chapter.
As Amalia's breathing softened, signaling she was drifting off, Costa carefully stood, carrying her back upstairs to her room.
He returned a few moments later, his gaze softer, his usual intensity momentarily dimmed. And it was all because of her.
"She's got you wrapped around her little finger, you know." I teased as he sat down closer to me on the couch than before. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side.
"And you don't?" He replied, his voice low, his lips brushing against my temple. "Let's not pretend you're any different, Principessa."
I smiled, leaning into him, letting the quiet settle around us for once. "Maybe I do." I admitted, tilting my head up to meet his gaze.
"You do." He agreed, tightening his hold on me. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
"I love you." I smiled, a smile which widened when he pressed a kiss to my forehead.
"I love you too, baby." He leaned in to press a soft kiss to my lips, full of so much love that it reminded me of our first ever kiss.
"Nervous?"
"Pftt. No." Yes.
"Sure?" He moved closer to me, suffocating me with the scent of his cologne - which somehow lingered on his skin overnight.
He makes our bed smell amazing, by the way.
"You know-" I cringed at how breathless I sounded. "-you're supposed to come across mistletoe by accident."
"Not in Sicily. It's different here." He grinned, lying straight through his pearly white teeth. But the fact he'd just given me mistletoe as a Christmas present wasn't my concern anymore.
I felt my body still, becoming extremely rigid as he came in closer. The fact I wasn't moving away was obviously his cue to continue.
"I've never kissed anyone." My voice trembled with a tinge of vulnerability - something I hated. But Costa didn't seem to mind that I was nervous or anxious.
"Good. You're mine." He spoke so seriously, without a flicker of doubt as he took my hand in his. "So you want it be special, principessa?"
"Every girl's first kiss is special." I whispered, watching as he brought my hand up to his lips.
"I only care about yours."
He kissed the back of my hand and then the inside of my wrist, over my pulse point. My breath caught in my throat when he came in closer, placing a delicate kiss to my collar bone and then one to the hollow behind my ear.
I stayed still as he pressed a kiss to my cheek. Then, he used his thumb and forefinger to gently tilt my chin up towards him, keeping his hand there.
From my cheek, he slowly moved his lips closer to mine. He kissed the corner of my mouth, letting his plump lips hover directly over mine.
Then they connected.
It was everything I ever dreamed it would be.
It was slow, sweet and sensual. He conveyed so much feeling and emotion as his lips moulded with mine so perfectly. Even with my eyes fluttering closed, every single one of my senses was overwhelmed by him.
It was all about Costantino.
I could smell his cologne, I could feel the warmth of his body and his soft lips against mine. I could hear how fast my heart was beating in my chest all because of him.
His hand moved from my chin to my cheek, and he gently caressed my skin with his thumb while we kissed. Meanwhile, both my hands were on his firm, bare chest, trying to keep myself steady.
When my eyes eventually fluttered open, I was met with those beautiful green eyes. They held so much emotion as he gently broke the kiss. Our lips brushed together and he kissed me one more time - a kiss that lasted another few seconds before he eventually pulled away.
Our bedroom, perfectly lit with the morning light, was peacefully quiet. It was the best place to have my first kiss. Our small bubble.
Our eyes remained locked for what felt like an eternity as he moved his hand, tracing his thumb over my swollen lower lip.
"So fucking perfect." His voice was deep and husky, his thick accent sending shivers straight down my spine.
Staring now into his captivating green eyes with that memory in my mind...
...it was enough to be sure that marrying Costa was the best thing that ever happened to me.
My happily ever after.
The End