"Hm. Is he a friend of yours?"
"Yes."
Costa nodded, reaching his hand up to move a stray piece of hair from my face. "If you ever let another man touch you again, there will be consequences. Do you understand?"
He spoke so softly yet so ominously...
The first chapter...here we go 🥹 This is going to be the best journey!
Guys, just for info - the purpose of this story is to focus on Millie and Costa's relationship. It's a slow burn, but it's amazing 😍
The first chapters are longer than the rest but they're extremely important to meet all the characters and understand the dynamics.
I hope you loveeee it. Don't forget to comment throughout to let me know what you think 🩷
Enjoy ✨
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"Millie."
"Millicent."
"Mildred."
"Maleficent."
"Mildew."
"Mil-"
"What the hell do you want?" I finally snapped, turning to look at my cousin, Damian.
"I'm bored." The 29 year old, six foot, olive toned, Greek son of a bitch pouted his lips.
"So?" I turned back to the black dress I was currently admiring.
I think she's the one.
"So, let's just leave this store and go and get some ice cream." He leaned his side against the clothing rack, immediately earning a scowl from a passing store attendant.
You don't lean against Prada, bitch.
Despite being a Mafia man with a gun strapped to his waist, he immediately stood up straight. Of course, me being the mature bitch I am, I didn't miss a beat.
A laugh caught in my throat and I smirked. "Pussy."
"Please remind me why the hell I'm here, ilíthia." (Stupid)
"Because I need a dress for my birthday party tonight and you don't have a choice?" I smirked, settling on the black dress.
You can never go wrong with a Prada dress, or an LBD - especially now that I'm 25 years old.
I'm now in my Boss Bitch Era.
"Go and pay for this, then we can leave." I gently shoved the dress into his arms.
"What? I'm not-"
"Go." I gave him a cold look using that boss bitch tone I'd mastered by my mid-twenties.
There was just a teenie-weenie problem.
It didn't work on the men in the Greek Mafia.
So, in other words, all the freaking men in my life.
"Go and pay for it yourself, bitch." He shoved the dress back at me, with a lot more force than I used.
"Maláka." (Asshole) I muttered, dejectedly heading in the direction of the counter.
