MILLIE
With a determined grasp, I picked up the wig, its strands flowing like a cascade of dark chocolate. As I settled it onto my head, I found myself devoting a couple of minutes to meticulously adjusting it, ensuring every strand fell into place perfectly. The mirror before me reflected a transformation that had taken place right before my eyes a metamorphosis that was both exhilarating and surreal.
The choice of this particular wig wasn’t arbitrary; it carried a profound significance. It embodied a hairstyle that I had often yearned for but knew would never gain approval from Gio. The thought of cutting or dyeing my hair had always been met with his disapproving frown. But today, hidden beneath these synthetic locks, I could wear the hairdo of my dreams without his objections looming over me.
The wig was a study in contrast, a dark brown bob that flirted with my shoulders, longer at the front than the back. It framed my face in an asymmetrical embrace, casting an aura of mystery and allure. This transformation was further aided by my recently acquired Mediterranean tan a radiant bronze that seemed to harmonize with the wig’s hue, rendering it surprisingly natural against the canvas of my blue eyes.
The instant the wig settled into place, I saw not just a reflection, but an entirely different identity staring back at me. My familiar features now bore a new edge, a new defiance that hinted at hidden depths. My choice of attire added to the dramatic shift: tight black jeans clung to my legs, a black-and-white striped shirt hugged my torso, and white sneakers completed the ensemble. This was a version of me that had never before seen the light of day, a college student’s guise replacing the expected facade of a mafia princess. And as I gazed at this new me, a grin stretched across my lips, an expression of happiness that felt liberating in its novelty.
Emerging from the bathroom, I stepped into the bedroom where Gio was in the process of donning a sleek black dress shirt. His movements froze as his gaze collided with the transformed figure I had become. His eyes traveled the length of my altered appearance, absorbing every nuance of the change.
Seizing the opportunity, I spun around playfully. “Well, what’s your verdict?”
A pause lingered before he answered, his tone laced with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. “This isn’t you.”
I couldn’t help but grin mischievously. “Exactly. No one will recognize me like this.”
He studied me for a moment longer, the intensity of his gaze unyielding. “You seem… happy.”
The admission slipped from my lips with ease. “I am. For the first time, I get to experience college life, even if it’s just a disguise.”
An intriguing tension lingered in the air as he adjusted the holster that cradled his weapon against his chest. The contrast was stark I was embracing a world of academia while he prepared to navigate the treacherous waters of the Famiglia’s affairs.
Gio’s gaze remained on edge, and I instinctively closed the distance between us, my hand reaching out to rest on his chest. “Everything will be fine. Dario will be right by my side.”
His nod was measured, his thoughts clearly occupied by the potential dangers that lay ahead. I felt the need to reassure him further, to offer a semblance of control in a world that often operated beyond such assurances. My fingers brushed over the wig I wore, and a wistful smile tugged at his lips. “I miss your hair.”
“It’s just temporary, I promise,” I assured, my words carrying a weight of determination. “And I’ve already devised a plan to keep unwanted attention at bay.”
Curiosity danced in Gio’s eyes, and he leaned in to catch every word. “Tell me.”
My voice lowered conspiratorially. “I thought Dario could pretend to be my boyfriend. He’s only two years older than me, and it would make sense for us to be together.”
Though his tone carried a note of skepticism, a hint of jealousy wasn’t entirely concealed. “And how do you intend to make that believable?”
A triumphant smile played on my lips. “Simple. We’ll hold hands. It’s a natural gesture that will keep us together in public, and no one will question it.”
Gio’s initial doubt seemed to thaw as he considered the idea. “I suppose that could work. Dario is trustworthy, and he understands the stakes.”
A chuckle escaped me. “Oh, he won’t make it easy. He’ll definitely refuse to hold hands.”
A slow, almost smug grin stretched across Gio’s face. “You’re quite the strategist. But remember, Dario is loyal to a fault. If you make a move, he might lose his composure.”
Rolling my eyes playfully, I clarified my intentions. “I’ll just ask him to play along, nothing more. No need to rile him up.”
Gio’s lips met mine in a possessive kiss, a silent affirmation of his claim. “With anyone else, I wouldn’t tolerate it, but with Dario, yes. He knows you’re mine.”
And as we stood there, entwined in the intricacies of our world, it was undeniable every person who looked upon me saw Gio’s mark upon my life. It was a truth etched not just in my heart, but across the fabric of our shared existence.
~*~
My attention remained utterly captivated by Dario’s presence. Dressed in his dark jeans and checkered shirt, he exuded an air of youthful collegiate charm. It was undeniable that he would effortlessly attract attention from the girls around. Our mode of transportation was his personal car, a sleek and understated dark gray Dodge Charger.
At that moment, Dario’s gaze shifted toward me, and he spoke with a tone of determination. “I’m planning to attend as many of your courses as possible. We’ll share lunches, and you won’t have to walk anywhere alone.”
A faint sigh escaped me. “Yes, I understand. We’re practically inseparable.”
As he parked the car and stepped out, a beat too late to open the door for me, a mumbled protest left my lips. “Seriously, cut it out. Act like you’re my boyfriend, not my bodyguard.”
His eyes widened slightly, and he withdrew a respectful step. It was as though my words had caught him off guard. I extended my hand toward him, a playful smile tugging at my lips. “Honestly, Dario, it’s the best way to discourage other men. You have a certain intimidating aura. Don’t back down now,” I urged, wiggling my fingers in his direction.
His gaze fell on my outstretched hand, a hint of wariness coloring his expression.
Deciding to seize the moment, I closed the gap between us before he could retreat, reaching for his hand and pulling him gently toward me. Caught off balance, he swayed forward, using a hand on my hip to steady himself.
The look he gave me in that instant would stay with me through countless challenges ahead. Laughter bubbled up from within me, and he hastily withdrew his hand as if it had been scorched. His voice was a low murmur, tinged with a hint of pleading. “Millie…”
Ignoring his reluctance, I offered my hand once more. “Relax, Dario. People will start suspecting if you refuse to hold your girlfriend’s hand.”
A flicker of anger danced in his eyes, and I felt a pang of guilt for making him believe he was defying Gio’s wishes. Releasing his hand, I let out a sigh. “I spoke to Gio about this. He agrees that it’s a sensible move for you to pretend to be my boyfriend so other men back off.”
Surprise overshadowed his previous anger. “He actually said that?”
“Give him a call,” I encouraged, and without hesitation, he dialed Gio’s number. Once he received Gio’s approval, a visible sense of relief washed over him.
“Just as I said,” I murmured.
Dario’s voice carried a resolute tone. “Gio is my Capo. I can’t go against his wishes, especially not when you’re involved.”
“I’m aware,” I replied, my frustration growing. “I understand perfectly that I’m considered your Capo’s possession.”
“Correction,” he interjected. “You’re not Gio’s possession. You’re his.”
The distinction eluded me slightly, but I decided it wasn’t worth lingering on. After two years of marriage, I had grown accustomed to Gio’s possessive nature. Dario extended his hand with a faint smile. “Shall we, Millie?”
Returning his smile, I resolved not to let anything mar this day. I slipped my hand into his, and together we strolled toward our classes. Even without my signature blonde hair, a number of male gazes were fixed upon me. It was a response I hadn’t quite anticipated.
Dario’s posture stiffened. “If they only knew who you were, they wouldn’t be so brazen.”
“They don’t know, and that’s exactly what we’re aiming for,” I retorted, lifting my gaze to those who stared. “Your deathly glares will discourage them soon enough.”
A soft chuckle escaped him. “I have to emulate Gio’s actions, after all.”