Page 40 of Mila: The Godfather

A fourth leaf is where we get the luck from.

I don’t tell her any of that. Instead, I listen to her explanation of the plant.

While she talks, I look at her.

Fucking insanely gorgeous.

That would be the only fair way to describe her.

And I felt that didn’t do her any justice.

There was the slightest hint of exoticness in her features, in her sun-kissed skin, golden mane of curly, waist-length hair, and in her light blue eyes. Eyes that in the sunlight, looked more green than blue. Her jaw is small, her nose was small too and straight, her lips full, her brows a bit darker than her hair.

Just... too fucking pretty.

It wasn’t even fair to the rest of the world.

The Parisi princess was a cute kid back when I first saw her, but the woman before me is drop-dead gorgeous without even trying. A skill most women don’t possess.

And her voice.

Although soft, it was just as pretty as the rest of her too. Sultry, one might say. That one being me, who definitely thought it was sultry as fuck.

This girl.

This girl who looks like sunshine in a bottle is a walking contradiction.

She’s dressed in a floral white dress that makes her look like a princess straight out of a fairytale. Making her look as if she fell into a time portal that sucked her out of the fifties and dropped her straight into today. I always went for the prom queen type of woman with big tits and fake everything. The complete opposite of this girl. In truth, women were just quick fucks to me. Nothing serious. Just a body I could get lost in and escape the gruesome shit I deal with daily even if it’s only for a few hours, but then I met this girl, and with just one smile, I was forgetting my own damn name. I was breaking all the rules. “Riagan.” I smile wide when she says my name. Fuck me, but I love the way she says it. Riagan, not Rian. She calls me the name my mother gave me at birth. “Did you know the clover plant is a member of the pea family?”

“No, I didn’t.” It’s true. My knowledge of the plant only goes so far. She gets this adorable look on her face that says she can’t fathom the idea of me not knowing that. “Did you know that for every 10,000 three-leaf clovers there is one lucky four-leaf clover?” I offer a fun fact of my own. Am I trying to impress her? I am, and I couldn’t give one single fuck if it makes me seem lame. It’s worth it.

I watch in fascination as her mouth parts and her eyes meet mine for a brief second before she goes back to looking at my cheek. “That fact I missed.”

I hold in the laugh bubbling in my chest. She’s not only adorable but funny as hell and she doesn’t even realize it.

“Now you know.” I lean back in the seat, cracking my neck as I do. Fuck I hate flying. I kill, lie, and cheat for a living, and I’m afraid of flying. The beauty sitting a few feet from me is the perfect distraction, though. “Might I ask why you like plants so much?” Most women enjoy jewelry, money, and status, yet this girl likes simple things. Like plants. She knows way too much about them.

Mila leans back on her seat and stretches her legs, getting comfortable. The look on her face makes me wish I hadn’t asked the question at all. She’s no longer beaming with excitement. “You don’t have to tell me, sweetheart.”

She sighs but doesn’t look my way. Instead, she looks down at her hands, which are now placed between her legs. “It’s okay,” she whispers, and I hate it. What the fuck happened inside that hellish home that made her afraid of being who she is? That cunt Parisi is lucky his daughter made him disappear, and I can’t get my hands on him. I would gut him like a fucking fish before I pissed on his corpse. Fathers are supposed to care for and protect their daughters. They’re supposed to be the one safe person they can always turn to without hesitation, but that fucker was their nightmare, and there is no doubt in my mind that he is the reason why this young girl has demons in her eyes when she thinks no one is looking. “Did you know that loneliness is an all-too-common feeling experienced by a staggering number of people?”

“Are you lonely, Mila?” I speak up, but I don’t think she hears me until I see her lips pull up in a sad smile.

“Not so much anymore, but I was very lonely at one point. Then I learned about plants and how they help more than just the planet.” The sadness in her eyes is gone. Thank fuck because I can’t stand tears. “Most people like the way plants look in their homes and offices. Their aesthetic. For me, plants gave me something to take care of. When I spend time around plants, I feel deeply connected to them, which to me, is necessary to combat loneliness. It also gave me a purpose.” Mila takes a deep breath and continues. “I find it… difficult to connect with other people, but not plants. They’re easy to love and care for.” When she puts it like that, I couldn’t agree more. Humans are rotten, but plants, and even animals, are easier to care for. To love. I stay quiet, enjoying her talking and sharing with me something she loves even if she doesn’t realize that is exactly what she is doing. She’s giving me pieces of herself and I’m starving for more. “Do you have a favorite plant? A flower?” she asks so sweetly I can actually feel my heart skip a beat.

Leaning forward, I’m so close I can smell her. Sweet. So sweet. She smells of a mix between coconut and vanilla. Mouthwatering. When I get close enough that I can feel her breath on my skin, I open my mouth to answer her question, but before I can get a word out we are interrupted. At this moment, I feel like throwing the person, who, with their sudden interruption made Mila retreat into herself and look back towards the window, off the plane.

“Would you like something to drink, sir? Or can I offer you something to eat” The flight attendant, Imogen asks.

I don’t miss her flirtatious tone and sexual innuendo. I don’t fuck where I eat. My employees know this. So where does this woman get off, acting as if I would even consider touching her with a ten-inch pole. She’s an attractive woman, yes, but she is not ’the woman.’ Plus, she’s pissing me the fuck off when she’s deliberately ignoring my guest.

Turning my face, I address the girl currently looking out the window and tapping her chest simultaneously. Why does she do that? I wonder. Does her chest hurt? “Mila.” I try my damnedest to sound less freighting and more gentle when I speak to her. She reminds me of a baby deer. Incredibly adorable, yet very vulnerable. Mila turns her face, and I have to take a moment to find my breath. This girl has ruined me for all women. “Yes?”

“Would you like anything to drink? Are you hungry?”

She cautiously looks at Imogen, then her gaze returns to me. “Water is fine.” The second the words leave her mouth, a subtle low growl comes from her. Her stomach. Heat creeps up her neck and tints her cheek a pretty shade of pink.

I smile when she ducks her head in embarrassment. Fuck, adorable. I’m so fucked.

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