Page 170 of Mila: The Godfather

“That kid’s brain scares the shit out of me,” Kelly mumbles as soon as the door clicks shut behind Conor. “Did you know the little fucker spent all morning yesterday cyber fucking some of his old bullies? Let the bitch dry after stealing all his money and pinning an unsolved murder on the man.”

“If I were you, I would cool it with the virgin nerd jokes. I wouldn’t mess with him or Maeve, for that matter. They’re petty.” Bain whispers as if they could hear him.

Idiots.

Before I can tell them both to shut the fuck up, a loud alarm blares, and I watch, with dread sinking in my gut, how the monitors with the security camera footage turns completely dark on the far right.

Fuck.

No.

The security system is down, and the mansion has been breached.

“How the fuck does this happen?” Bain rises from the sofa and turns around before meeting Kelly at the door.

There’s a long pause before Kelly speaks. “This shouldn’t have happened. The only people who have access to the security codes and could turn off the cameras are you and—”

“The twins.” Bain finishes for him. Both my men look as if they already buried a friend.

Because that’s exactly what will happen.

I was so busy worrying about the hit on her head that I hadn’t focused on the fact that maybe this was all connected. A mole.

The twins.

Standing up, I grab my gun from my desk, strap it to my chest and grab a knife. “Mila. Your priority is Mila.” They both nod.

That’s the only thing I say before I exit the office.

Mila.

This all ends tonight.

Taking the stairs two at a time, I run towards her. The world can go to hell for all I care but never her. No one can hurt her.

Mila’s Secret Thoughts

Lately, all I want to do is lie on his chest and listen to his heart beating.

Knife to my Back

MILA

“Say you won’t let go.” — M

“How didn’t I know this!” Maeve gasps as she types enthusiastically on her tablet.

“Why would you? I never told you.” I say it as a matter of fact.

She stops typing and looks at me sheepishly. It takes me a second to figure out why she looks guilty. “Riagan made you spy on me?”

“Spy? I don’t like that word. Think of it as me being your cyber guardian angel.” She winks and continues working on her tablet.

She’s weird.

The nice kind of weird.

She doesn’t make me nervous. Nor do I feel myself constantly trying to find things to say to her. She likes the quiet like I do, and when she does speak, she always has something interesting to say.

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