"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...
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"Fuck. Next time can you just order a normal fucking ice cream?" Costa's voice was a low growl, edged with irritation.
He was grouchy because he had to help me finish it.
Sitting in the ice cream parlour, he looked every bit the cold, calculating man that ran the city's criminal underworld. But, there was a warmth in his eyes that only surfaced because he was with me.
"It was a normal ice cream. How was I supposed to know they do monster portion sizes here?" I tried to defend myself, but even I knew it wasn't normal. It was fucking huge.
"You're the one who found this place." My husband replied, leaning back in the booth we were sharing. His presence dominated the small space, his eyes cold and calculating as always, except when they flickered over to me.
He was always subtly analysing every room we ever walked into and this was no exception. Even while just going to get ice cream with his wife, he had to be on his guard.
"Yeah and I don't speak Italian, idiota."
"You have eyes, no? You could just look at the fucking pictures." I actually did look at the pictures when I found this place on Instagram. The ice cream looked so good, I didn't think much of the size.
"Whatever." I shrugged, rubbing my full stomach. Perhaps it wasn't a good idea to get such a big ice cream after dinner. But after the spider fiasco, I needed something to calm me down.
Although, Costa's hug did really help.
"I'm going to be so tired for training tomorrow." He groaned, running a hand over his face. I think he's referring to the amount of sugar I just made him consume.
"Just drink some coffee." I waved him off, getting out of the booth.
"You think it's that easy?" He scoffed, also getting up so we could leave.
We started the walk to the door and he stayed close behind me the entire time. My body visibly stiffened when he placed a warm hand on my lower back, guiding me through the busy ice cream parlor. His touch was possessive, yet gentle, a stark contrast to the ruthless man the world saw.
"Yeah. Take a pre-workout or drink some coffee and just get it done. Stop complaining." I rolled my eyes, pushing open the door.
As soon as we were outside, Costa's guards ushered us into the awaiting car. Since it was evening in the city center, they were way more vigilant than usual.
Paparazzi were everywhere and the Accardi's were well known in Sicily - even just as a rich and famous family. With that kind of reputation in the public eye, anything can happen at any point if you're not careful.
