Page 123 of Mila: The Godfather

Swoon.

With my ear to his chest, I fall asleep to the beat of his heart, and not one single nightmare haunts me while in his arms.

Not one.

Mila’s Secret Thoughts

You’re now my favorite plot twist.

My favorite chapter.

My favorite story.

Just… my favorite everything.

Mrs. O’Sullivan

MILA

“Save all your dances for me.” — R

When I was ten, I went for months without talking to anyone who weren’t my sisters. Everyone in my household ignored me. That was per my father. “If she won’t speak, don’t speak to her,” he’d said. What no one understood was that I kept to myself and made myself invisible so my sisters wouldn’t get hurt. It’s not that I didn’t want to talk. It’s just that I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, too afraid of what the consequences would be.

Father was the one who instilled fear in me by not only using his fists but also humiliating me by pointing out my flaws to anyone who was willing to listen. So, I spent every waking moment hiding inside four walls since what waited for me outside the walls of my room was just too frightening and painful. For both me and my sisters.

I only got to wander outside the confines of my room when my parents were away, and even then, his guards were everywhere, and they were just as scary as him.

It’s not like I missed a lot. I really didn’t.

The Parisi mansion never felt like a home to me or my sisters. It felt more like a cage, one meant to not only keep us in but to degrade us. Make us feel less of a human and more like possessions.

It never felt like this.

Like Riagan’s home.

Warm, cozy, and I sure can feel the love and respect I have for him.

That is also new to me.

My father’s men followed him out of only fear, but I already can tell that Riagan’s men followed him out of loyalty.

The distant sound of Bruno’s barking steals my attention as I make my way down the stairs. After falling asleep in his arm last night while listening to the strong beat of his heart, I woke up alone this morning. Except for a flower—Riagan’s favorite— and a lone, yellow sticky note on his side of the bed. I couldn’t help but smile when I noticed he wrote down a fun fact about shrimps and where their heart is located. A fact I already knew, but I appreciate his effort. It made my heart happy to know that he tries to not only understand me but to enjoy the same things I do, even if we’re both so different from each other.

He also wrote that he was going to be out half of the day on business but that he would see me later today. I don’t know which business he was referring to. The killing bad guys business or his other business ventures. The legal ones.

I didn’t give that too much thought and decided to take his note and place it inside a music box that sat in the room’s vanity.

Something about his note felt familiar, but I couldn’t quite put a finger on it. Normally, not knowing something would bother me until I had the answer but not today.

Today, I smile more than I have in a long time and focus on the joyful feeling in my chest, wanting to savor it and not let go of it.

Back home, I always tried to look at the bright side of things when waking up in the morning. I had my sisters, I was healthy, so what if my happiness was fleeting, never lasting for long? Other people had real problems, right? Sickness and poverty.

Some are homeless, and I had a roof over my head, so I should be grateful, right?

I reminded myself of all the things I did have, and then I would smile.

I would smile even when it felt forced.

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