Page 67 of Mila: The Godfather

“My help?” She narrows her eyes, making her look adorable as fuck. “With that?”

“My father has a bucket list that he’s not able to complete right now. I offered to do it for him, and I need help crossing things off it.”

“A bucket list.” She gaps excitedly. “I love bucket lists. I have one, too.” She ducks her head shily, as if she’s embarrassed to share that with me.

There’s no need to be embarrassed. Not with me. Bucket lists are to Mila what cage fighting is for me.

“I was thinking we could help each other then.”

“How?” She lifts her head, and her excited gaze meets mine.

“You help me cross my father’s wishes off his list, and I’ll help you with yours. How does that sound?”

She doesn’t answer for almost a minute. I already imagine the wheels on her head spinning, trying to figure all of this out. After what feels like an eternity, she offers me a small smile.

“I would love to help you with your father’s bucket list, Riagan.”

Little does my butterfly know that every single wish on that list is for her.

Wishes I know will make her heart happy.

In turn, it’ll get me closer to said heart.

No one said I had to play fair.

Playing dirty for a man like me has always and will always be the only way.

* * *

Mila

Paradise, plants, books, and bucket lists.

I’m starting to think the man walking next to me is a mind reader or a mythical creature. Because how else would a rational person explain this situation? There is no logic. No reason. It all went out the window when I not only fled the country with this beautiful stranger but also accepted his fake marriage proposal. I’ve been in a haze since yesterday. Marriage. A fake marriage. To an older man I barely know. I’ve seen movies about this—fake marriages of convenience. On-paper-only marriages. In books, it turns out romantic, with the main characters falling in love and living happily ever after.

But that’s not a possibility for us.

How would that even work?

He can’t stand my sisters, and they’re the most important people in my life. He also is a crime lord who needs a fearless queen to stand by his side, and sadly that’s just not me. I’ll be more of a burden. He might not see it now, but he eventually will. But I’m still in awe of this man and how he has managed to leave me speechless more than once with his kind words and his suspicious knowledge of the things that make me smile. There is no explaining how someone I met only once before knows so much about me. You know that sweet blissful feeling you get when you’re doing something you love?

For me, it’s when I re-read a comfort book or when I am surrounded by my plants.

Peace.

I feel that here.

Here with him, walking down a colorful street while eating a refreshing treat made of shaped ice and fruit syrup. It’s so good. I was curious about the delicious treat like I am about most things I’ve never tried before, so I asked the man who was selling them out of his bright, colorful pushcart how he made them. The man was kind enough to show me his process, and Riagan stood by and watched with me, and not once did he look annoyed or exasperated.

When I looked up, I found him looking down at me with a soft smile. The same smile that makes my stomach feel funny.

He does that to me a lot.

All my life, I programmed myself to blend in with my surroundings, to not attract attention, and keep myself out of people’s way, yet here, with Riagan, I can’t help but ask questions and speak my mind. Riagan seems intent on pushing me into the spotlight, which is also new to me. New, and at times, scary.

Now, as we walk through a small street where there are various local vendors that not only sell treats but handmade tropical clothing and pretty jewelry made of seashells and colorful rocks, I keep stealing glances at his face that looks contempt.

I can’t also stop looking his way because he’s never looked more wild than he does today. He is wearing black swim trunks and his white tank, which he discarded and is now thrown over his shoulder. He also wears a black baseball hat backward. He looks like most heroes do in romance novels these days.

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