Mila: The Godfather (Unholy Trinity Book 7)
Mila: The Godfather: Part 1 – Chapter 20

RIAGAN

“The stars aligned the night I first saw him.” – M

Ionce looked forward to the comfort this place provided, away from the crowded streets and duties of Philadelphia, but after a while, I stopped coming back here. It didn’t feel the same. The air was no longer sweet because the memories kept choking me. Because here, in this place, surrounded by only beauty and sea, is where my father was planning to bring my Mum once he got a ring on her finger, but before he could make that happen, a series of unfortunate events happened that led to this moment in time.

My mother is no longer with us, but somehow, every time I visited this place, I felt her spirit here. It’s fucking bullshit I know, but I did feel her everywhere, and it hurt. The reminder that was no longer here was painful.

I was being truthful when I told Mila this home felt haunted. It once felt that way because it reminded me of what I lost. What both my father and I lost.

His love. My mother.

Natalia.

The woman who showed me tenderness and love before the world I was born into corrupted my soul and stained my hands with blood. Before that Volpe scum tore our worlds apart with his sick obsession and his greed.

You see, my mother was of both Italian and Irish descent, and that is how she got caught between my Da and Tommaso Volpe, the once boss of the Volpe family, before his son Lucan took him out and took his place as boss of the Volpe family.

It’s one fucked-up tale.

One that broke my old man’s heart. Even years later, he can’t seem to get over his once-in-a-lifetime love. The one he believes left us to pursue bigger and better things.

Money, power, and greed.

I believed it at one point, too, until her letters.

Letters I found stashed in my baby shit that she kept.

Letters addressed to all of her children.

She was not only forced to abandon her life in Philadelphia and her family but she was forced to marry that piece of shit Volpe and bear his children. My half-siblings, Lucan and Giana Volpe.

Something I learned after she was long gone.

Her body was never found, and she was never laid to rest like she fucking deserved because the secret of her death was taken to the grave with fucking Volpe. I no longer blamed her for the choices she made. Foolish or not, she made them out of fear and love. Her one grave mistake was thinking my father wouldn’t have gone to war for her and come out victorious. He would have succeeded.

The three families of Detroit were very powerful back then, more than my father, who was proving himself to his own father and our clan, but Cathan was and still is a savage and clever motherfucker. I know he would have found a way to protect us both, but my mother, in her fear, did not believe him capable, and I also believe that’s what caused their downfall.

I’ve never had a serious relationship in my life. I was the type to fuck ’em’-and- leave-’em’ but one thing I do know is that a man in love would go to war for his woman without question Without fear.

My father was willing, but Mum’s fear won.

Yeah, it’s one fucked-up family tale that connects Detroit to my city.

I still carry a lot of guilt and a whole lot of hatred for that goddamn city, but just as my mother was bound to it, so am I.

Life has a funny way of fucking you over.

I once infiltrated the Nicolasi family in hopes of tearing them down from the inside out, but ended up replaceing truths I was not searching for, siblings and my first fucking obsession. A goddamn girl.

In truth, I didn’t have to do much.

The new blood of the three families took out the old blood, the generation before theirs. I only stood back and watched how their kingdom crumbled, decaying from the inside out. I knew the truth. They didn’t. The only thing that could tear down the Holy Trinity of Detroit was itself.

And it is now happening, hence the chaos that erupted today once the little Parisi princess left the safety of her castle and gave not only me, but her family’s enemies access to her.

I can’t replace it in me to feel guilty.

Never when it comes to her.

I always get what I want, and what I want is her.

Every beautiful inch of her.

I am so close to having it all.

I got my title, my city, and now I am aiming for the woman who was born to stand by my side.

Now, she’s here, and I’ll play every trick in my deck of cards to make her realize that there’s no one for her but me and vice versa.

No one.

Walking towards the second master room’s balcony, I open the double doors and take a deep breath once I am outside. I was born and raised in a hectic city with loud noise and chaos. There is not a day when the world stops for me. All fast-paced. The total opposite of this place.

My grandfather loved the sea, and he spent all his time after my father took over the business here at this estate, even when his wife left this world. He still came back.

I didn’t understand his mysterious draw to the ocean.

Now that I am a man– a man who never has a single moment of peace, I understand.

There is something about it that relaxes both the mind and the soul.

You feel tranquility.

I never felt that before. Now, I do.

In many ways, the girl, Mila, reminds me of the ocean.

When she is near, my mind grows quiet, and so do the demons in my soul.

Sighing, I take in the view before me. From all the way up here, I can see the beach and the line where the moon is now kissing the sea.

You don’t get this in the city.

Nothing can quite compare to this.

Placing a cig between my teeth, I take in a long drag and expel the smoke upwards toward the sky. The sky is clear, with no gray clouds in sight. It’s filled with stars. Lifting the cig to my mouth once more, I rest my elbows on the railing, looking down at my estate. The mansion is in the center of the most exotic part of the privately-owned island, Blue Bay. This place is a thing of beauty, and it is also secluded from the hustle and bustle of crowds on some of the neighboring islands.

Just like I prefer it.

No one knows my family owns this place. No one I don’t trust, at least.

Studying the tropical beauty all around me in detail, a smirk shapes my mouth when Mila’s words from before echo in my memory. I would never leave this place if it were mine.

Oh, I’m counting on it, butterfly.

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the light being turned on and off three times in her room. I replace myself transfixed, curious as to what she’s doing. From way over here, I can make out her silhouette behind the silky curtains I knew she would love so much. She hates messes and loves the soft feel of satin. I lean forward on the railing with my cig still burning and watch her as she roams around her room for exactly five minutes before the lights go off.

As I take another long drag of my smoke, I can’t help the grin that takes over my face. Nothing about her situation should make me smile the way I’ve been doing all fucking day. There’s nothing remotely funny about a sick motherfucker putting a hit on an innocent young girl. Nothing.

I have my men and Maeve searching for every piece of information they can get about the hit that was put on her head and what the contract entails. I’m going to track down the cunt who gave the order and every fucker that takes the contract. I already have my suspicions, and as much as I would love to be back in Philadelphia hunting the piece of shit, there’s nowhere else I would rather be than right here with her.

Nowhere.

My thoughts are interrupted when there’s a buzzing sound coming from my back pocket. My phone. Reaching inside my pocket for it, I already know who the person on the other end of the line is. Answering, the first thing I hear is a child’s giggle. “Riwriw.” The sweet voice of the cutest little brat I know. My baby niece, Allegra.

“Baby girl. It’s late as fuck.” I really should watch the way I speak around kids, mind my filthy mouth around her, but I love fucking with her father way too much to stop. Besides, Allegra’s first words were not Dada or Mama. No. Her first word was bitch. All thanks to her mother’s colorful mouth.

“Uh-uh,” My baby niece giggles, replaceing me amusing as always. “Daddy, Riwriw bad. Riwriw, fuck. Damond now.” Most kids her age ask for dollars but not my niece. No. Allegra hustles diamonds out of me.

I hear a shuffling in the background and what sounds like Lucan scolding his daughter gently for saying ’fuck’ repeatedly. Taking a drag of my cig, I savor it before I put it out. “You need to stop swearing at my kid. She’s gotten too comfortable with using fuck, shit, and asswipe. Andrea is going to have my balls once she hears Allegra’s word of the day.” Lucan sighs, sounding every bit annoyed.

Good.

“As if she didn’t already have your balls in her hands, little brother. Everyone with eyes has witnessed how your wife uses them as stress balls by now.”

“Now, I know you’re not talking about balls, fucker. You seemed to have lost yours along with your dignity.” The little asshole laughs. “How’s stalking going for you? Has it paid off, man? If you need pointers on how to get a woman by actually talking to her instead of infiltrating her life—-”

Already feeling a headache growing because of this nuisance’s big mouth, I cut him off. “Do you have anything useful to say, or should I hang the fuck up?” I say in a bored tone, now looking away from her window and towards the beach.

“Asshole,” Lucan says under his breath, making my mouth twitch. Our relationship isn’t perfect, and it started rocky, but as the years passed, we’ve grown closer. Not only because it was my mother’s wish for me to look after her other children but because I didn’t totally hate the guy. When he had his mouth shut, I could actually tolerate him. “A certain Parisi has gone missing. Do you perhaps know anything about that?”

“No.” I look away from the water and replace myself staring at her window once again. Has she found sleep? I wonder how she will act once the reality of this situation sinks in when a new day arrives.

“Ah, shit. You.” My brother hisses. “I thought your creepy obsession ended with the pen pal shit.” He speaks again as I grow bored.

Everything bores me lately. Nothing holds the same appeal. She does.

This fascination grows by the second.

Then I replace myself longing for the hours to pass so I can see her again. Fuck.

“I’m hanging up now.” The call lasted more than fifty seconds. This is a new record for us.

“Don’t do anything stupid, man. That girl…” I listen intently to what he says next. Brother or not. One bad word about the girl, and Andrea Nicolasi will become a young widow by tomorrow. “Mila is a good girl. She’s too good for the type of life you lead.” I’ll give it to him. He actually sounds concerned. It still pisses me off.

Pinching my nose, I suppress the impulse to tell him to fuck off and mind his business. “Your point?”

“My point fucker is that she deserves a good life, and if you think you’re the man that can give her that, then fuck, good luck, brother. Just know that there’s a man-eating piranha losing her head searching for her and promising a painful death to whoever had a hand in Mila’s kidnapping.”

I could say many things right now. Like I could care less about Kadra Parisi and her threats and how there was no kidnapping involved. She chose to come willingly, but I chose to say the only thing that matters here. “Mila is mine, and if I need to go to war for her, I will. God help anyone who intervenes and tries to take her from me. That includes you, brother.” With that, I hung up on my brother. Not in the mood for more unsolicited advice and useless chatter.

Not even two seconds after I hang up the phone chimes with an incoming text.

Biological Nuisance: 🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻🖕🏻

Very mature, little brother.

Ignoring his message, I scroll down and tap on my conversation with Maeve. I type a quick message and wait for her response.

Me: Parisi?

Maeve: Well, hello to you too, Cap.

Me: Don’t push me, Maeve. Not in the mood.

Maeve: Hasn’t left Detroit, and there’s still zero suspicious activity on her accounts. My brother is hot on her tail, just in case she makes a move.

Me: Good.

Me: Do whatever is necessary to replace the one who ordered the hit. While you’re at it, put a message out there to any mercenary that I’m willing to pay ten times more than the original offer for her head to whoever snitches on the fucker.

Maeve: On it.

Maeve: Wow, Cap. This girl must be really something.

The fucker behind all this offered a large sum of money to the first mercenary who pulls the trigger.

Now I’m flipping it on him or her.

I’m offering a larger amount to the first man who snitches on the bitch.

Me: Keep me posted.

Maeve: Yeah, yeah. Will do.

Maeve: And I haven’t forgotten how you chose to take Kelly on your getaway. Not cool, cap.

Me: You’re more useful to me in the city, Maeve. Nothing personal. Now get to work.

Maeve: 🖕🏻

Pocketing the phone, I turn around. The sound of the waves crashing as they reach the shore in the background soothes my soul as I keep my eyes trained on her window. The wind blows softly. The moon shines brightly down at the water, giving it a beautiful glow yet I can’t seem to look away from that damn window.

Everything and anything falls away around me, and all that exists in this moment is her and this damn feeling I once couldn’t put a finger on.

I feel a pressure in my chest, one that makes breathing difficult and one I’ve never felt before. Lifting my hand up to my chest, I tap it.

Three times.

Three-fucking-times. Like I saw her do before.

My heart beats slowly. Steady.

Strong.

With an unexpected purpose.

At this moment, with her sleeping soundly inside my home, I know, like I know my name is Riagan O’Sullivan, that Mila Parisi is mine, and there is no way in hell she is leaving my side. Ever. If someone tries to take her from me, they will only be able to do it by walking over my cold, dead corpse.