Mila: The Godfather (Unholy Trinity Book 7)

RIAGAN

“She gave up heaven to love a man like me.” – R

As a young lad who was raised the way that my father and all the men around me did, I knew what a gun was way before I learned to ride a bike. I also never quite believed in fairytales. Never gave one single thought about magic either. None of that had any room in my life, not while I was being raised to be the future leader of the OSullivan clan.

I learned hard lessons before anything else, so yes, beauty is something I knew very little of. Until I stumbled upon a tiny fairy-like creature with butterflies in her hair on a cold autumn night. If I’m being honest, that was the day I started to give a shit about someone other than myself.

I remember the night as if it was yesterday.

The garden.

The sweet air.

Her.

A night much like this one.

The beach mansion didn’t come with a garden, not one of this magnitude, at least. It had small bushes of exotic plants surrounding the pool area, but that was the extent of it. Nothing intricate or of this magnitude. Until years ago when I had the back area turned into a garden for reasons I didn’t quite understand. I just knew that it was what this place was missing to truly feel like a home away from home.

Now, I’m glad I listened to my gut and added the garden because the image in front of me is the reason why a man, who has taken many lives and has lied and cheated most of his life, believes in magic.

Believes in something more than chaos and blood.

Mila walks in front of me, looking in every direction with wonder in her eyes. Those blue eyes of hers shine with not only curiosity but giddiness. And while she takes in the beauty before her, I admire the beauty in front of me. As much as this garden is my pride and joy, it doesn’t hold a candle to her.

“This is…” she whispers, and at the same time she spins in a circle with a smile on her pretty face. “I have never seen anything more beautiful. Is this real?”

“Neither have I,” I whisper softly, knowing she can’t hear me, not with the sound of the waves in the background and her so far away. I take the opportunity and walk closer to her, where she’s too busy looking at the tropical hibiscus.

I stand there as the sun sets and watch her while she gets lost in the world she’s most comfortable in. Where there’s only magic, beauty, and well, plants.

One thing I learned long ago was that Mila Areya Parisi is obsessed with gardening.

Plants, animals and baked goods, to be precise.

This I know.

And the look on her face is worth the hundreds of thousands I dropped on this garden.

It wasn’t cheap, but money has never been an issue. Not for me.

It took me a while to find the person who could bring to life the vision I had for the garden.

A Caribbean paradise.

The designer worked tirelessly alongside the landscape architect, and created a paved seating area surrounded by lush foliage and also built an outdoor lounge space. Atmospheric spotlighting and clever planting make the caribbean garden look like a tropical paradise at night. I only had one suggestion for the designer, and that was for her to make the garden look like something straight out of a fairytale book. For that, she added patio lights and colorful plants. Exotic ones, such as Orchids and Birds of Paradise, and many more. There’s also a koi pond to add a water feature of some shit like that the lady said when she explained her landscaping plans and design. There’s a stone path that leads to the pool with plants and ivy over it that makes it look almost like a jungle.

It is truly beautiful, and by the look on Mila’s face, I know she agrees with me.

After a moment of silence she turns to me with excitement brightening her eyes. “Riagan…”

The way she says my name… so pretty. So fucking sweet. It makes me wonder if she would sound the same when I enter her body. When I claim her as mine. Fuck. Clearing my thoughts and my dirty fucking mind, I speak up. “Yes?”

“I doubted you.”

Frowning, I step closer to where she’s standing, but not too close that it might overwhelm her. “You doubted me?”

“I did.” She nods, and I find it amusing how her golden curls bounce with the movement. “I thought you weren’t serious when you told me you enjoyed plants. My apologies. You need to understand that I haven’t met anyone quite like you, but, in truth I don’t know many people.” She starts to ramble in that adorable way that makes my chest ache. “You fascinate me just as much as this garden does.” She says so softly that, for a moment, I believe I imagine it.

You fascinate me…

Fuck.

One thing about her is that she will speak her mind and blurt out truths when she feels comfortable or nervous. I caught that much in our time together so far.

Words get stuck in my throat. I always know what to say and how to act, but I must admit that, for the first time in my goddamn life, I am caught off guard. This girl… this fucking girl with her pretty smile, kind heart, and admirable honesty, has the ability to render me speechless.

“I said something wrong,” Mila whispers, pulling me out of my head.

The tremble in her voice snaps me out of it. Clearing my throat I speak up, “Mila.”

“Yes?” I look at her in one of the dresses I had brought here for her. A yellow sundress with spaghetti straps and a material that hugs her body in all the right places. Her golden curls fall wildly around her face. Eyes that shine brighter than the stars lighting the night tonight.

“Your honesty is refreshing,” I speak. “Nothing you say to me will ever be wrong. That I promise you. Speak freely around me and always speak your mind.”

“You don’t look irate or angry….” She points out while biting nervously on her plump bottom lip. While her eyes stare at my chest, I get caught staring at her lips. What I wouldn’t give to taste them. To finally find out if she tastes as sweet as she looks. I bet she does.

So fucking sweet.

“Why would I?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. Most people make faces I don’t understand while I speak about things I enjoy, but they do not.”

“Those people are cunts.” Her lovely mouth forms an ’O’. “They’re ordinary, and you’re anything but.”

She frowns, and I can’t help myself. I step closer. I stand taller. Much taller and with no shirt on. I bite my lip to hide the smile that wants to take over my face when I catch her licking her lips. She likes what she sees. Good. She also doesn’t retreat or try to hide her face from view like she has done several times before.

I am aware that this situation is insane, but nothing about this feeling in my chest is logical.

I can’t find it in me to care.

When I’m a breath away from her, I reach inside my pocket and hand her my phone. “Tell your sister you are alright.” It’s been hurting not being able to communicate with her sister. I am not a man with morals.

I’ve always done what’s best for me and the clan with zero regard to others’ feelings or wants, but when it comes to this girl, I want to keep my promises. I want to be… better.

Mila lifts her chin and tries her best to hold my stare, and fuck, does she do it. It lasts two seconds more than the last time she did. Yeah, I’m keeping count.

She tentatively reaches for the phone, and when she grabs it, her fingers lightly touch mine, and I feel it. That zap of energy that courses through my body whenever she’s close or when her skin touches mine.

I’m going mad.

I’m addicted.

Before I let go of the phone, I warn her. “The fuckers that are after you might track the call, so to be safe, send, a voice message, and you gotta keep it short, sweetheart. For your safety and to not compromise her.” I feel guilt clawing at me when the light in her eyes dims, but fuck, I’m not risking it. “Trust me. I know this is a lot to ask. But I need you to trust me that I’ll get you out of this alive and back to your sisters. They already tried to take out Arianna and failed. I won’t let them get to you.” She looks up but says nothing. Instead she nods gently and raises the phone close to her mouth.

I watch as she takes a deep breath before pressing the touch screen.

“Sirius. It’s…me, Mila.” Her voice breaks as if her tears are not that far away. “Please don’t worry. I am alive and I’m unharmed. I know that nothing I say will stop you from searching for me, but I promise I’m okay, and I’ll find my way back to you. I… I love you so much.” She sighs heavily before carrying on. “One day. Okay? This is my one day, and I just want you to fight for yours instead of worrying about me.” Her voice, the sadness in it, cuts me deep. “I’ll see you soon, sister. You’ll see.” With that, she ends the message and hands me back the phone. I quickly type the number and press send. Then I throw the phone onto the ground and smash it with my boot.

After a long moment, I clear my throat. “The last thing I want is for you to feel like a prisoner. You’re not a prisoner here, but for the meantime, I need to get you off the radar, and we gotta take some precautions. That means no outside contact and no social media until me or your sister eliminate the threat.”

“I-I know.” She says absently while she taps her chest three times. She’s doing it again.

My own chest squeezes.

Instinctively, I reach forward and pull a golden lock behind her ear. Ignoring her sharp intake of breath, I ask. “Does it hurt?” I watch her face. “Does your chest hurt, sweetheart?”

Her next words undo me.

“Not anymore.” Eyes the color of the sky on a perfect day stare right through my soul before looking somewhere else. “How odd…” she mumbles absently.

The look on her face when I share a kind word or I’m brutally honest with her does things to me. It’s like witnessing her discover a new feeling or unlocking an old joyful memory that had been suppressed for years and now is coming back to her. It’s…touching.

“Ask me your questions, butterfly.” I rasp. I know she has a million of them, and I haven’t given her clear answers. I know it bothers her. Mila is the type of girl who follows her mind instead of her heart, but somehow, this time around, something tells me she shut her mind off, even if just for a little while, and trusted her heart.

Fuck, I hope that’s why she decided to act recklessly and put her trust in me.

“Why am I here? Truly? It can’t just be about my safety and the promises you made to my sister. There’s more to it. I feel it.”

She deserves answers, and I’m going to give them to her along with some little white lies.

Because the truth is I can’t tell her my truth just yet.

She’s not ready.

But she will be.

In time.

Mila

I’m no stranger to heartbreak.

I guess I knew what a broken heart was before most girls my age.

A boy didn’t break my heart, no.

Life did.

The pain my sisters were subjected to because of how I was born did more damage to my heart than the insults and neglect. Yet that seems small and insignificant compared to the feeling of despair in my chest just thinking about both my sisters being so far away and possibly in danger, and I can’t do anything about it but stay here and let this man keep me safe while the bravest person I know, Kadra, fights demons that have haunted this family for far too long.

She has always been my protector, and in my naivety to find her peace, I got myself into this situation. But the guilt I feel? The guilt is what hurts me more because, even though a part of me hurts for putting her in a position where she will worry about me, another part of me feels free. Free to finally see the world through my sister’s eyes and to experience it as well.

To finally live.

“My father is really sick.” Riagan’s deep voice breaks through my own throws, bringing me back to the moment at the same time as a gust of wind comes without warning, causing goosebumps to spread over my skin. Looking up at him, I study not only his facial expression but his stiff demeanor. I quickly catch his gaze and find darkness there.

“Is he going to die?” I cringe a little when I realize what I asked and how it might’ve sounded to him.

I sometimes forget that normal people don’t wish for their parents’ demise. Most children actually like their parents. I need to be more careful with the way I phrase things around him, to be cautious of not offending him. He might say that could never hurt him or make him mad, and he might say that now, but people change. That I know all too well. Once I open my mouth and say things with no ill intent but are painful truths, people get offended.

And when you offend someone in my world, they get angry. Furious even.

Then…I am the one hurting.

Hurt feelings and sometimes busted up lips or broken skin.

It all depends on their mood that day.

Riagan grunts. “He won’t die.” He clears his throat before speaking up again. “But he did ask something of me, just in case he lost the battle to cancer.”

“What did he ask?” I watch him, standing before me like a stone statue that bleeds fury. Dark and menacing yet soft at the same time.

The man is a mystery.

“He wished to see me marry. He wants me to lead our clan with a queen standing by my side.” A sudden shiver travels down my spine, and it has nothing to do with the cold breeze but with his words.

“I don’t understand.”

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for my father, and if seeing me with a wife is what he wishes, then so be it. I’ll do it, but I can’t marry just anyone you see. I need a woman who knows this lifestyle. A woman who understands that I do ugly things for the sake of my family. A woman who is not afraid of a little darkness.”

“I am afraid of everything.” I whisper truthfully as I slowly put some distance between us. This man suddenly makes it seem as if he is sucking the air out of an open space. Unreal. Inexplicable.

“That isn’t true.” He steps closer, not allowing any space between us, yet he is not crowding me. I notice that every time he comes close to me, he always stops himself. He stands back.

“You’re not afraid of me when most people are.” He points out.

Looking up at his face, I notice the darkness in his eyes is gone, and now he looks… softer. Gentle even. “You’re kind.” I blurt out. At least kinder than most people I’ve encountered before. He doesn’t yell. Since meeting him again, he always has a nice word to say to me, and well…he emptied his gun on a man for hurting me and calling me nasty things. He’s not a moral man by any means…but that was nice or heroic in a twisted sort of way.

“I am everything ugly that hides in plain sight, Mila. Don’t kid yourself.” He sighs when I say nothing else. What can I say? I’m lost for words. “Let’s find the logic in this, shall we?” He steps closer while I still feel like I am holding my breath. “I need a wife to make a sick man smile, and you…” Oh he is good… He is using logic and a sick person to make his point. Two things that I just can’t deny. Logic and facts? They’ve always been good to me. His sick father? Well, I am human. I have a heart. A soft one. He has me there.

“And me?” I ask, holding my breath and waiting for what’s coming next.

“You have a hit on your head. My last name and my ring on your finger will make them think twice about coming after you, Mila. There’s no greater sin in my world than coming after the family of the boss.”

Family.

Ring on your finger.

“They won’t dare start a war, and if they do, they’re the ones who won’t come out on the other side alive. That I can guarantee.” There’s a threat in his tone. A threat laced in darkness. “Coming after my wife is something the fuckers will think twice about.” Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Energy cracked between us.

A dark, dark light.

While shock made me stumble back a foot. I was not expecting that. Not even close.

Looking down at my hands, I try to come up with a million reasons why this is a bad idea. I can’t marry this man. I don’t know much about love besides what I read in my romance novels, but one thing I do know is that fake marriages or marriages of convenience always tend to blur the lines. But logic proves that, on paper, this is a win-win situation. This man can help protect me while my sister annihilates the threat, and well…I can help him make his father’s painful journey less…painful, I guess.

Then, a thought comes to mind. One that has me rushing out the next words. “If we’re doing this. We need to establish a few things. Please feel free to speak up when you feel like I have overstepped or if I have offended you in any way. Also know that I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I am alive and here now because of you. I owe you, I know this.” I take a breath, still looking down at my hands because I am not sure if I am capable of holding his gaze, even if it’s for a second, while having this conversation. “In this arrangement…you can’t fall in love with me.” There, I said it. Heat creeps in when silence follows. Only the waves can be heard, and I am sure my heavy breathing, too, with how erratic my breath is coming.

I watch as his boots step closer, touching the pretty stone path of the prettiest garden I’ve ever seen. My eyes look away from his boots, and I find myself looking everywhere but at him. I’m embarrassed, and when I feel this way, I just look at something that makes me less anxious and brings me comfort. Thankfully, I am surrounded by not only the sea but a magical-looking garden.

I counted a dozen exotic flowers I’ve only seen on the Internet, yet he grows them here. This place is a dream for someone like me. Since I was a child, gardening has been my outlet. I always found it fascinating. To be able to grow and nurture something that is alive gives me a sense of purpose.My gaze slides to the mesmerizing garden, from huge palm trees with the greenest leaves, to the birds of paradise and orchid bushes twining together, with neatly cut grass, presenting a magical picture straight out of a fairy tale. Several benches and alcoves line the perimeter, finishing up the composition, and from the outside, it seems the perfect modern design was chosen, focusing on the fauna of this place and adding personal touches. Bright and fresh colors with a tad of magic. I can almost imagine Riagan roaming through the place, his aura only adding allure to this paradise. “Mila.”

“Yes?” I mumble, still looking away.

“This arrangement is strictly business.” His tone sounds dry, but not rude, either. Something in my chest aches when he puts it that way. Arrangement. Business. I should feel relieved but why is it that I don’t relieved at all?

“What does this…arrangement entail?”

“We’ll get married, of course.”

“For how long?” I look away from the flowers and look at his face. I notice his jaw looks tight, as if he’s not pleased with the turn the conversation took.

“A year.”

My eyes grow big. “A year? But what about my sisters? Where would I live? How will it work? Will we have sex?” My brain keeps pinning, and suddenly I feel lightheaded.

“Mila, breathe.” Soft hands fall on my shoulders. I should fight them off. My skin should be crawling because of his touch, but, yet again nothing happens. I don’t feel repulsed or uncomfortable. Instead, my body does as he says. The anxiety leaves my body, and I am able to find my next breath. All because of his soothing voice and gentle touch. Remarkable.

“For a year, you will stand by my side as my wife, and during that year, you’ll stay with me, of course, back in Philadelphia. You will also get to see your sisters as long as they don’t pose a threat to your safety.” I frown when he says that part. Does he mean Kadra? “You’ll also be under my protection. No one will fuck with you, and you won’t be a prisoner any longer. Not in my world. Not in my city. You no longer belong to the shadows, Mila. Never again.”

Finding my next breath proves to be hard, but I manage to, long enough to get the next words out. “You’re different from almost everyone I ever met, Riagan O’Sullivan.” I blurt out.

“Likewise, butterfly…” There goes that confusing feeling in my chest again.

How do I tell this man that I can’t offer him anything more than friendship?

Because there’s a ghost in my heart. Someone that took up permanent residence and has never left my mind, even when he was just temporary, but his words and his sweet and kindhearted nature touched me in more ways than I’ll ever admit. I want to tell this to Riagan, but I don’t. It won’t do any good. Besides, the man from the emails has always been my secret. A dream and never a reality. But how do I explain it to this man? But do I even have to? He agreed this is just a mutually beneficial arrangement, and I don’t think he hopes that love will bloom between us. He needs a pretend wife…

That is all.

Keep telling yourself that…

Have you learned nothing from romance novels? These situations always have a different outcome than the one you’re dead set on, girl.

“For you.” I look down at his hand to find a yellow Asiatic Lily. I tentatively reach forward and take the beautiful flower from him. “You asked me which was my favorite plant.” You are in trouble. The little voice inside taunts. Ignoring the, at times, obnoxious voice, I focus on the pretty flower instead.

I can’t help but smile. Yellow flowers never fail to put a smile on my face. There’s something so joyful and cheerful about the color that’s contagious. “Thank you…” I whisper without looking away from the flower. A lily flower. Why is this one his favorite? What does he find fascinating about this one out of all the pretty flowers that surround us? I wonder, lost in my head. A second later, as if the man has read my mind, he answers me.

“Did you know in Greek mythology, the Lily, was the flower of Hera, wife of Zeus. The legends have it that the lily was formed from the milk of her breast. However, in Roman mythology, Venus, the Goddess of beauty, was so jealous of the flower’s white loveliness that she caused the pistil to grow from its center.”

Shocked, I look up at him, and my eyes clash with his lovely blue ones. “What is it?”

“It’s just that you surprised me, that’s all.” I mumble shyly. He more than surprised me. He made my night just by giving me his favorite flower and offering a fun fact, and somehow I have that feeling again. Deja-vu. 

“It’s that a good or a bad thing?” I notice he has come closer. So close I can almost feel his breath on my skin.

A good thing. A very good thing.

I want to say, but something holds me back.

Fear, maybe.

Fear of what this all means for me now.

Just a short amount of time with this man has me ignoring all reason and acting on impulse. That is not who I am. Dangerous, I tell you.

He is dangerous for a naive heart.

This is why my heart takes a back seat, and my brain takes over in the next moment.

“We don’t cross lines, okay? Shake on it.” I extend my arm towards him and wait for him to do the same, and once he does, once his big and rough hand closes around mine, I feel a shock of electricity that courses through my body. A reaction only he incites in me. “Deal?” My voice comes out hoarse.

“Okay…” I ignore the mischievous grin that tweaks at the edge of his mouth.

And that’s it.

I’m an engaged woman now.

It also doesn’t escape me that he said okay instead of deal, yet I don’t dwell on that for long because, in the next instant, he is interrupting my thoughts. “You like fictional books, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“I do.” I frown, wondering where he is going with this.

“Think of this as a great adventure for as long as it lasts.”

An adventure? I never had one of those. Lies.

An adventure was what got me into this situation.

“Let’s go back inside, butterfly.” Riagan says. Turning with my flower in hand, I can’t shake the feeling that there is no going back. My fate was set in stone the moment we crossed paths. I also swear I hear him whisper something at my back.

Something that sounds a whole lot like, “You fascinate me, too, butterfly.”

Oh, no…

I’m in deep.

So deep that I’m not sure if I did the right thing.

Because somehow, I feel like friend-zoning the man I plan to marry will come back to bite me in the butt sooner rather than later.

Of that, I have no doubt.