Page 48 of Mila: The Godfather

Even though I know this is not a dream, it doesn’t feel like reality. It hasn’t sunk in yet.

“This is where you’ll sleep.” He stops in front of a shiny and sleek silver door. Stopping, I notice the lack of people. Back home, there were men in suits everywhere, watching my every move, and of course the house staff, but here it’s only us. I didn’t see anyone else. “Where is the other man? Kelly?” I ask when we reach the door of the room I’m going to occupy during my stay here.

“Kelly will stay in the cottage out back.” Riagan steps closer, and I get stuck between the door and his hard chest. He’s close, yes, but not enough to touch me. I should feel intimidated, but I don’t. “You needn’t worry. You’re safe here. You have my word.”

I feel his hot breath on my skin, and I feel my stomach flip. “I’m not afraid.” I blurt out.

“Good.” He says gruffly, and I hold my breath when he raises his hand toward my face. Closing my eyes, I wait for his touch. This is too fast. All of these strange emotions are hitting me too fast.

When I think I’m about to discover how his touch feels, I’m disappointed when nothing happens. Opening my eyes, I quickly look up to see a small smile on his handsome face. What a tease.

Riagan opens the door like a perfect, tattooed gentleman.

Feeling as if I missed out on something monumental, I take a step inside the room, and without turning, I whisper, “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams, butterfly. Until tomorrow.” He whispers back before the door clicks shut behind me.

Until tomorrow.

Too tired to inspect and snoop around, I walk to the bed and drop like a sack of potatoes. “What in the world have I gotten myself into…” I spend ten minutes going over all the events of the day and going back and forth on every decision I made today before sleep wins and takes me under.

And even in my dreams, my not-so-villain follows me.

I dream of blue eyes, a tattooed neck, and blue butterflies.

Message from C

M,

Did you know that in the Spanish language your name means miracle, while in Slavic, it translates to favored one? It suits you.

Because not only are you favored by me, but you’re my little miracle.

- C

Pussy-Whipped

RIAGAN

“The stars aligned the night I first saw him.” – M

I once looked forward to the comfort this place provided, away from the crowded streets and duties of Philadelphia, but after a while, I stopped coming back here. It didn’t feel the same. The air was no longer sweet because the memories kept choking me. Because here, in this place, surrounded by only beauty and sea, is where my father was planning to bring my Mum once he got a ring on her finger, but before he could make that happen, a series of unfortunate events happened that led to this moment in time.

My mother is no longer with us, but somehow, every time I visited this place, I felt her spirit here. It’s fucking bullshit I know, but I did feel her everywhere, and it hurt. The reminder that was no longer here was painful.

I was being truthful when I told Mila this home felt haunted. It once felt that way because it reminded me of what I lost. What both my father and I lost.

His love. My mother.

Natalia.

The woman who showed me tenderness and love before the world I was born into corrupted my soul and stained my hands with blood. Before that Volpe scum tore our worlds apart with his sick obsession and his greed.

You see, my mother was of both Italian and Irish descent, and that is how she got caught between my Da and Tommaso Volpe, the once boss of the Volpe family, before his son Lucan took him out and took his place as boss of the Volpe family.

It’s one fucked-up tale.

One that broke my old man’s heart. Even years later, he can’t seem to get over his once-in-a-lifetime love. The one he believes left us to pursue bigger and better things.

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