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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"Your father assured me this wouldn't be a problem."
"We've discussed this already." I desperately needed to get away from this idiota who wouldn't take no for a fucking answer.
I never intended on leaving Millie alone for this long. I was uneasy the entire time even though I tried to reassure myself nothing would happen here with my guards watching her every move.
Unfortunately, the sight of my wife approaching me with panic-filled eyes proved me completely wrong.
It also sealed the fate of those guards who were all dying tonight.
"Signore Accardi, I think you-"
"Excuse me." I quickly pushed past the old man, rushing over to Millie in the middle of the banquet hall.
"What happened?"
"Costa...-" She seemed slightly dazed while she gripped the fabric of my suit tight in her shaky hands. "H-he's here. Viktor."
My entire body stilled at the mention of the leader of the Russian Bratva - the one who'd declared war on my family and Millie's.
He wasn't on the guest list, my father was very clear about that. No Russian's were invited to this gala thanks to their current sour relations with the Armenian's.
But he made it in anyway.
As soon as she inhaled a ragged breath, it was clear the emotions were beginning to overwhelm her as the seconds ticked by.
"Not here. Come on." I quickly guided her through the crowd, keeping her trembling body against mine as we walked.
My eyes searched the crowd for any sign of Kozlov or his men but I came up completely empty. Even when my guards ushered us out into the hallway of the hotel there was no sign of them hightailing it out of there.
As soon as we were in the quiet hallway, I held her at arms length, gently gripping her shoulders.
"Did he hurt you?" My eyes scanned her body for any obvious injuries, but I couldn't see anything.
"I...he..." At first she struggled to relay the events to me. My initial thought was that she'd let this whole thing get the better of her. I thought she'd let the shock of the sudden turn of events send her into a meltdown.
But she surprised me when she took a few slow breaths, now holding her head high. Something changed in her eyes and her next sentence was cool, calm and collected.
"He had a knife which he held against my stomach. He didn't use it but his threat was clear. He might have left a bruise on my hip too." She gingerly touched her right hip but that was the only sign left that she was even slightly shaken up.
