"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...
I think this is one of my favourite chapters in the book ❤️
Question of the day:
Favourite vacation destination? ✈️
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We spent the first three days in Dubai in bed.
And it wasn't in the good way.
Millie was, in fact, very sick.
"Your phone is ringing."
"I can hear it." I sighed, putting her smoothie down next to her.
"Well, can you turn it off now?" She peered up at me from the home she'd made for herself in the duvet cocoon.
"I was getting to it, Millie." She tests my patience in ways I'd never experienced.
Her illness had magnified her ability to piss me off with a single word. She was more irritable, grouchy and demanding.
But her red nose was cute as hell so I didn't want to lose my patience with her. I didn't want to make her sadder than she already was after wasting three days in bed.
I shouldn't even be thinking about her like that.
I could feel her eyes following me and irritation radiating off her in waves as I went to grab my phone.
"What?" I snapped, dropping down on my side of the bed.
"Costantino." My father's cold tone had my eyes immediately closing in regret. One, for showing attitude to him and two, for not checking the caller ID first.
"Sorry." I rubbed a hand over my face in exhaustion. "Yes, Dad?"
"You haven't been to any of the meetings I sent you to attend."
"I know. Mia moglie è malata. Siamo stati nel-" (My wife is sick. We stayed in the-)
"Sick? You think I care if she's sick? Your responsibility is to La Famiglia."
"What do you-"
"Her responsibility is to La Famiglia!" He cut me off, his fury palpable even through the phone. "Tonight's event is an important one. If you don't attend, you know what will happen, Costantino."
A punishment. A reminder. A beating.
They were all one and the same with my father. He believed in tough love and physical discipline.
"And I don't want to do that. It will be your mother's anniversary when you come home, I-"
"Abbastanza. Andremo. Non c'è bisogno di coinvolgerla in questa cosa." (Enough. We'll go. You don't need to bring her into this.)
"Don't fuck it up. We need this deal."
"Fine." With that I hung up the phone, tossing it on my nightstand. Resting my elbows on my knees, I ran a hand over my face in frustration.
