Forced into a marriage neither of them wanted, a fierce Greek mafia princess and a ruthless Sicilian underboss must navigate a storm of power, passion, and betrayal-only to discover that their greatest battle might be against their own hearts.
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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 😍
Also, please be conscious this book is all about character development for this reason. So please hold back on all the comments about them calling each other names etc. It's enemies to lovers - we kind of have to go through the enemies part.
⚠️ Also don't forget it's a MAFIA STORY! ⚠️ Which means, there's going to be things you don't like. These aren't normal people, they're criminals. It's not all flowers and roses. The way they react to things is different than you would lol. Too many people on here are complaining about little things like name calling or reactions in arguments.
Other authors use the mafia genre as a fun cutesy dangerous vibe. I tried to make this is a realistic as possible but still a romance novel. Please keep this in mind.
If you comment anything negative, I'll simply delete it 🥹 It's just a story, no need for the aggression!
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 🩷
Let me know if you're a first time reader or a re-reader! (Re-readers, please no spoilers in the comments ❤️)
Enjoy ✨ H00PCA0015792035
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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 woman 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)
