Page 29 of Mila: The Godfather

There is no doubt that I am interested in her.

There was just something about her. Her sweetness, her softness. It was something that my life had afforded me very little of.

I hadn’t realized I had been craving it until it was right there in front of me.

I met her once and she left her mark on me.

The girl that no one saw.

Everyone overlooked her.

It’s the woman I can’t stop seeing.

The mafia princess with butterflies in her hair and stars in her soulful eyes.

Mila Areya Parisi.

Even her damn name was fucking beautiful, but it would sound so much fucking better if it was followed by my last name.

All in due time.

Message from M

Dearest, C

Do you dream at night? Do you dream while awake?

I do.

All I do is dream. – M

The Man With The Butterfly Tattoo

MILA

“You still smoke? Do you want to die?” – M

My scalp burns from my father pulling on my hair, and my ears are still ringing from his shouts. My legs are stuck. I tried to move them, to run to Arianna, who was crawling on the floor a few feet away, but I couldn’t reach her. My big sister’s expressive green eyes widen in fear as she reaches for her throat.

There’s blood.

So much blood begins to pour from her throat, her ears, and her mouth. “No! I cry, feeling my heart crack down the center into two broken parts.

I try to scream, but it gets stuck in my throat.

I am powerless.

Useless.

“S-sstelina?” I snap my head to the right and watch as Kadra stumbles through a dark fog.

Her arms are stretched wide, and her eyes are watery. She’s looking for me, reaching out her gloved hand for me to take. To guide her home. She always did say I was the light that guides her in the dark when she feels she’s reaching the point of no return.

Today, I am not her light.

I am helpless.

I can’t guide her in the dark.

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