Page 116 of Mila: The Godfather

Mine.

Half an hour later, it still feels like I am dreaming, and this is all a figment of my fucked-up imagination. How else would I explain someone as good as her saying yes to a man like me? To this life I lead.

But here she is, next to me, trying her best to fit in with my men and my family. I am not oblivious to her anxiety. She has tapped the silverware repeatedly since we sat down at the table, yet she hasn’t cowered or ran away when the attention is directed at her.

Not my girl.

Maeve has directed the conversation toward her a couple of times to make her feel included and has made sure to not overwhelm her either. I appreciate that.

I appreciate all of them making an effort for me.

For her.

Every single member of the clan is loud and outgoing, none of them shy. There’s no room for that here, but for her, we make an exception because that is, who she is and that is exactly who they’ll respect.

She’s perfect just the way she is, and I can tell by the gentle look in the eyes of not just Maeve and Kelly but Da too.

After we said I do, we moved toward the dining room, where Da had a dinner set up to celebrate the occasion.

When there’s something to celebrate in our family, we do it with drinks and food.

Irish alcohol, to be exact.

Looking at my beautiful wife, I smile when I notice that, even though she’s busy playing with the dog, she’s also paying attention to the conversation. She’s trying. Fuck me, so sweet.

Reaching under the table, I grab her hand and squeeze it, and once she looks away from the dog and at me, I wink at her, loving the way pink colors her cheeks. With my hand still holding on to hers, I rise from my seat and pick up my whiskey with my free hand. “Thank you.” I look at my father, then at Maeve, and lastly, Kelly. “Thank you for being here for us.” Clearing my throat, I then direct my words toward my wife. Looking down at her, my heart starts to beat fast when she grabs my hand tightly as if she needs me for comfort too. “This woman here.” My woman. “This is my wife, and you will protect her with your life. Treat her as an extension of me. I trust that you will not only make her feel safe in your presence but include her in your conversations. You will treat her with the respect she deserves as not just a human but as my wife. The wife of your captain.” Mila’s eyes widen at the same time as her thumb traces the ink on my hand. “You make sure everyone inside and outside these walls does as well. No one hurts her. No one makes her feel less than perfect.” My eyes leave Mila and move toward Kelly and Maeve, who quietly sit, listening. “And if you do, I’ll treat it as treason to your captain. To this family.” I threaten. Looking at my father next, I make sure he knows that not even blood is safe.

No one.

We’re not in paradise anymore, away from the world where I can keep her fully to myself.

We’re in my world now.

Where her life is in danger every hour of the day, but she has me.

She has this city behind her.

She’s no longer the forgotten princess.

No.

She’s now the heart of this O’Sullivan clan.

The queen of not only my fucked-up heart but this city.

My Philly.

* * *

Mila

I’ve been by myself for so long that I’ve never gotten used to being around people for long periods of time. I’ve enjoyed the quiet so much that, at times, the presence of other people gives me anxiety or makes me feel out of place. I’m constantly trying to keep up with their social cues, and I try really hard to understand their jokes and think twice about what I’m going to say not to offend them in any way.

It’s exhausting. It really is, but not with Riagan and not with his people, apparently.

They’re… loud. Very loud, and they all have big personalities.

They fit so well with each other, and all through dinner, it hasn’t escaped me how they’ve tried to include me in their conversations.

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