Mila: The Godfather (Unholy Trinity Book 7)
Mila: The Godfather: Part 1 – Chapter 18

MILA

“The man is one giant, tattooed teddy bear with sharp claws.” – M

Ilike his words.

I like his smile.

I like his home.

I more than like his home. All my life, living behind a screen didn’t prepare me for the raw beauty of a place like this one. The images of pretty beach houses I saw online or in magazines whenever I was working on my vision board or wanted inspiration for my paintings– can’t compare to this place. Riagan’s home is something out of one of those luxury beach homes magazines that Carlotta loves so much, and that’s saying something because I’m no stranger to grandeur and luxurious homes. The Parisi mansion exudes every essence of luxury, elegance, and over-the-top decor. But Riagan’s stunning oceanfront mansion looks as if it’s about 6,000 or 7,000 square feet. Balinese-inspired estate hidden away in a private oasis just a few feet from the famous ’white as snow’ sand and turquoise waters of Turks and Caicos.

“By that look on your face, is it safe to assume you approve?” Do I catch a hint of amusement in his tone?

“Uh-huh…” Good job, Mila. You know around a maximum of forty thousand words, and each day you learn a new one, yet the best you can come up with is ’Uh-huh’. But what is worse is that it is not even a word but a sound. A sound used when people are agreeing with you, when they want to show that they understand what you are saying, or when they are answering ’yes’ to a question. It is a less emphatic form of ’yes’.

I don’t notice that I spaced out until he speaks again. “I’m glad.”

He is glad that I approve.

Why?

Or is his response just a way to continue the conversation?

This is why, at times, I prefer my books over people. Books are easy. Simple. People are not. But I can already tell he’s not like most people. That is why I don’t feel forced to carry on a conversation with him. I want to. And I think… I think he doesn’t mind me speaking too.

“Do you come here often?” I ask as I step inside his mansion. I have lost count of the amount of ’wows’ and ’oh my Gods’ I’ve said out loud from the moment we arrived. There’s something about this place that feels right, and it has nothing to do with how beautiful it is or how secluded it is, making it the perfect home. It is so much more. Yes, it is a stunning estate, but the serenity I feel here is new to me.

The moment we step inside, I instantly miss the sea breeze, but I get over it just as quickly when I take in my stunning surroundings.

Minimalist yet classy decor with a touch of the sea.

Perfect.

Yes, perfect is the word that would describe it.

Riagan speaks, catching my attention. “Haven’t been here for a long time.” I frown at his odd tone. He no longer sounds amused. He seems… sad. Yes, sad. He is sad. Turning, I ignore the need to admire the tall ceiling, large glass windows, and beautiful facade. The stunning and colorful decor.

“Why haven’t you been here? I would never leave this place if it were mine.” I say wistfully. This is my dream house. It would also be the place I would run to escape reality. My safe place.

“This was once a home. A happy one. Now, every corner of this house feels haunted.” He shrugs. That I understand all too well. An empty and loveless place doesn’t feel like home.

His sad tone makes my chest feel tight. Lifting my hand to my chest, I tap it lightly, trying to ease the ache. Every corner of this house feels haunted. I want to know more, but before I can ask what he meant, he moves closer toward the living room area, and I follow.

The house has floor-to-ceiling windows with zero privacy, but the fenced yard remedies that by offering some privacy. Kind of risqué if you ask me.

The sun is setting soon, and the sunlight is fading, ready to allow the moon room to breathe. The events of the day are slowly getting to me. I can’t help but yawn, suddenly feeling tired. I haven’t had this much excitement in a long time.

But then, a thought comes out of nowhere. With all the excitement, I forgot one of the reasons why I agreed to fly across the country with a complete stranger.

He said he needed me. The thought spiked a curiosity and a challenge in me that will most likely get me in trouble. There is no doubt about that, yet I can’t replace it in me to care. Not as much as I should. What is going on with me? A few hours. Only a few hours with him, and I’m already losing brain cells.

Before I space out or get distracted by other things, I ask what I’ve been meaning to do since I left the country with this man. “Earlier you said you needed something from me. What is it you need my help with?” There’s a short moment of silence before he speaks. As I look at the tattoos peeking from under his shirt on his chest, I feel his gaze on me.

“You’re tired.” It’s more like telling me than a question. Looking away from his chest, I try to focus on his face, but as soon as my eyes clash with his, I get nervous and look back down to his chest again, but this time I focus on his chain instead of his colorful tattoos.

“How about I give you a tour of this place in the morning. It looks ten times better in the daytime, and in the morning, we’ll talk more.” I count the visible diamonds on his chain, feeling contempt yet a bit disappointed he didn’t clue me in now, but I am tired. “I would love that,” I say shyly. Raising my head from his chest upwards, I watch as he nods at me once before saying. “Follow me. I’ll show you to your room.” He says while climbing the stairs.

See, Mila. He didn’t chop you into pieces. He’s not the bad guy. A little voice inside my brain says.

There’s always tomorrow… another little voice taunts.

Ignoring them both, I follow Riagan as he guides me up a long staircase that leads to a narrow hallway with blue-painted walls, dim lighting, and a squeaky-clean floor. My heart beats steadily as I walk behind Riagan, noticing how sweet the air around here feels.

Blue.

I notice the color is everywhere. Blue walls. Blue decor.

Even though I know this is not a dream, it doesn’t feel like reality. It hasn’t sunk in yet.

“This is where you’ll sleep.” He stops in front of a shiny and sleek silver door. Stopping, I notice the lack of people. Back home, there were men in suits everywhere, watching my every move, and of course the house staff, but here it’s only us. I didn’t see anyone else. “Where is the other man? Kelly?” I ask when we reach the door of the room I’m going to occupy during my stay here.

“Kelly will stay in the cottage out back.” Riagan steps closer, and I get stuck between the door and his hard chest. He’s close, yes, but not enough to touch me. I should feel intimidated, but I don’t. “You needn’t worry. You’re safe here. You have my word.”

I feel his hot breath on my skin, and I feel my stomach flip. “I’m not afraid.” I blurt out.

“Good.” He says gruffly, and I hold my breath when he raises his hand toward my face. Closing my eyes, I wait for his touch. This is too fast. All of these strange emotions are hitting me too fast.

When I think I’m about to discover how his touch feels, I’m disappointed when nothing happens. Opening my eyes, I quickly look up to see a small smile on his handsome face. What a tease.

Riagan opens the door like a perfect, tattooed gentleman.

Feeling as if I missed out on something monumental, I take a step inside the room, and without turning, I whisper, “Goodnight.”

“Sweet dreams, butterfly. Until tomorrow.” He whispers back before the door clicks shut behind me.

Until tomorrow.

Too tired to inspect and snoop around, I walk to the bed and drop like a sack of potatoes. “What in the world have I gotten myself into…” I spend ten minutes going over all the events of the day and going back and forth on every decision I made today before sleep wins and takes me under.

And even in my dreams, my not-so-villain follows me.

I dream of blue eyes, a tattooed neck, and blue butterflies.