Page 135 of His Tesoro

Dimi pulled Mila and me into his arms, holding us tight. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier. So fucking sorry.”

I choked back a sob. Now wasn’t the time to fall apart. “What have you been doing? How did you do all of this?” I asked.

He pulled away from us and shook his head. “I can’t talk about it yet.”

I let out a sound of frustration. I was so fucking exhausted with the secrets and being kept in the dark. But maybe that was just the inevitability of life in organized crime.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw my mama sway as she went to stand. I jolted towards her, but a Bratva soldier named Anatoly, an older man with silver hair, grabbed her arm before she passed out and guided her into a pew. I shot Dimi a look, and he nodded. There was no love between him and my mother, but I knew he would make sure she was taken care of.

“You can both stay here with me,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe.”

I felt a presence behind me and turned to see Matteo at the bottom of the altar steps with Romeo at his side. “If you ever try to convince my wife to leave me, I will end you,” he said, ice in his voice.

Dimi inclined his head. “And if you ever do anything to hurt my sister, I will end you.”

They faced off, expressions blank, eyes locked, until a slow smile spread across my brother’s face. “I look forward to forming a new alliance with you, Don Rossi. A real one.”

Matteo’s expression remained stoic, and then he nodded.

“And with you,” Dimi said, inclining his head at Ronan, who was standing halfway down the aisle with Leona.

“Oh, wonderful. Someone finally realized I was here,” he muttered.

Mila and I both snorted a laugh. Now that the male posturing was over, there were more important things to tend to.

I made my way back down the steps and took Matteo’s hand. His face was gray with the strain of standing. “You need to sit down. Ronan, can you get the chair out of the car?”

Matteo didn’t move, and I gave him a little shove towards a pew. “Sit down.” He gave me an incredulous look, but I stood my ground. “Or stay there and pass out. Not sure it’s very suitable for a big scary Mafia Don to faint, but I guess it’s your choice.”

He growled and then sat.

Mila joined me, leaning her head on my shoulder. I wrapped my arms around her. “You don’t have to stay here.” I couldn’t imagine Mila would ever want to set foot in the Pakhan’s home again. “Come home with me.”

She shook her head and pulled away. “I love you, Sofiya. More than anything. But I need a break from all of this… from the violence and politics and control.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but she shook her head. “If I lived with you, all my movements would be controlled. I need space to breathe, to experience freedom.”

I wanted to argue with her, tell her it wouldn’t be like that, but we both knew better. I had come to terms with the restrictions of my new life as Mafia queen, but Mila had always been a free spirit. I refused to be the one to cage her, even though I wasn’t sure my heart could withstand the pain of saying goodbye.

She blinked like she was chasing away tears and pulled me back into her arms. “It’s not like it’s forever.”

“It better not be,” I whispered in her ear. “My baby needs their aunt.”

She sniffed. “You couldn’t keep me away if you tried. I just need some time to complete the items on my list first.”

I groaned. Mila’s items were a lot more adventurous than mine.

I caught Nikolai’s dark stare over her shoulder. But he wasn’t looking at me—he only had eyes for my sister. “And Nikolai will let you go alone?” I asked, eyebrows arching as we separated.

For the first time in my life, I saw Mila blush. “He’s coming with me.”

Okaaay.

“You will tell me more,” I said, my tone reminiscent of my husband.

A smile curled her lips. “I will.”

“You need to check in every day.”

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