Page 166 of Mila: The Godfather

I also know where she’s coming from. A man attacked her in a place where she was supposed to be safe from the cruelty of the world. And today, she was triggered, even if it was unintentional.

“I’m sorry there’s so much ugly in the world, butterfly.”

“Well… we can only appreciate the light because of the dark.” When I think she doesn’t hear me, she does.

“I don’t want to leave.” She blurts out.

Frowning, I stop pushing the swing. “Leave?” The thought of that happening cuts deep.

“I don’t want to ever leave this place,” she whispers, and she looks away from me. With my heart thrumming in my rib cage, I move until I’m standing in front of her. “I don’t want to ever leave you.”

Thud.

Thud.

Fucking thud.

Gently, I lift her off the swing and into my arms. Once her eyes are on me, I say. “You’re not going anywhere, Mila. You are mine, and I am yours.”

“I love you,” she says quietly, then hesitates before she speaks again. “Since the first letter.”

I’m taken aback but not at all surprised that she figured it out. I’m surprised it took her this long.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“It took me a while to connect the dots and you, with him– the one from the emails-but then, with every little and big gesture, I started to wonder how you could know things not even my sisters knew. Only one person knew my heart’s wishes, and then I felt with you what I felt when I opened every message. I no longer felt alone. I was excited and couldn’t wait to find out what was written inside. I’ve felt the same here.” she touches her chest. “That’s how I knew.”

“Baby–” I exhale, lost for words.

“Plus, Maeve let it slip.” she laughs, and the sound goes straight to my heart. “She said, and I quote: “Don’t let the tattoos and the kills fool you. Bossman is a big romantic teddy bear. He even writes love letters.”

Maeve and her big mouth.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asks, frowning now.

“I wanted you to fall for who I am. Not just the man from the letters. All of me.” I say truthfully.

And she had.

Because I’d shown her my black soul, and she chose me anyway.

“Oh, that makes sense.” I watch her cheeks turn pink, and her eyes fall to my mouth. “You didn’t say it back,” she says.

Smiling like a fool, I kiss her forehead and whisper back. “I love you more.”

“I don’t think that’s possible, Riagan.” Fuck, so sweet.

“It is. Trust me.” I hold her tightly in my arms while her arms hold onto my neck. Her eyes no longer look sad but full of love and happiness. They’re shining. “I think I loved you long before I met you. Long before the letters.”

“Perhaps, we’ve met in another life.” She frowns, and I can tell she’s trying to find the logic in my statement. “That does explain all the deja vu feelings I’ve been experiencing since our very first encounter.”

I was not one to believe in past lives and all that shit that most people believe in when they fall in love, but she makes me believe in it. In soulmates and love after death. Multiple lives and finding your soul mate in each and every single one of them.

It started with a lonely girl who stirred the protective instinct in me.

Then, life threw me the biggest plot twist.

The sweet girl who tugged at my rusty heartstrings grew up and became my wife.

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