Page 149 of Mila: The Godfather

There, I said it.

There’s no taking it back.

When the silence that follows becomes too much, I start to feel a bit anxious until he raises his hands to my cheeks and brings my mouth slowly to his. The kiss is slow but intense. When he pulls back, ending the kiss, he whispers close to my mouth. “Thank you.”

Licking my lips, I taste him. Mint. Just mint because he no longer smokes. I know it’s bad for him and the people around him, but I kind of miss the taste of tobacco when he kissed me. “Thank you for what?” I don’t look away from his lips. I watch them pull up in a smile.

“For making me smile. For shining your light all over my dark.” He says, rendering me speechless. “Because, baby, you’re the only one that can.”

The only one.

Me.

I do that to him.

“Good.” I smile at him, which makes him laugh before he kisses my forehead tenderly.

“Yeah, butterfly. Good.”

After that, we both remain silent. I pick up the needle and start stitching him up, and not once does he complain. He just stares at me while I work on his wound.

When I’m done fixing up his split eyebrow, he speaks up. “How you know how to do this?”

For a second, I consider not telling him. It’s not pretty, and I don’t want to ruin the moment with sad memories, but I want complete transparency with him. Always.

I quickly clean up the mess I made on his desk and stash all the supplies inside the emergency kit. “I had to do it a lot when I was younger. Cleaning wounds and stitching them, I mean. Sometimes on my sisters and others on myself.” I shrug. “After so many times, I guess I got really good at it.”

He growls.

He honest-to-God growls, sounding like a feral animal.

Angry.

He’s angry on my behalf.

“It was a long time ago.” I try to appease him. “It doesn’t hurt me anymore. Not like it used to anyway.” I smiled at him.

“I’m in awe of you.” He touches my cheek gently with his bandaged knuckles. Warmth spreads through me at his touch.

“How so?”

“There’s not a moment when you don’t smile and make others smile.” He says roughly. “And fuck me, but you’re brilliant. You’re the smartest person I know, and I know two geniuses. So clever even when you didn’t have the same opportunities as your sisters. Fuck, you know more than people I know have spent years pursing an education. You’re so talented and so kind. I’m still having trouble believing you’re real. I think I’ll never truly believe it. But most importantly, that piece of shit sperm donor of yours and all his puppets didn’t break you. He didn’t succeed.”

His words pierce my heart.

He didn’t succeed.

I guess he didn’t because I’m here.

I’m breathing and living, and most importantly, I’m free from him and his cruelty.

And so are my sisters.

He didn’t win.

Pride and joy takes over me as Riagan’s words replay in my head like my favorite song on a loop.

I don’t realize I’ve spaced out until I feel Riagan’s hand on my hair, playing with a curl.

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