Mila: The Godfather (Unholy Trinity Book 7)
Mila: The Godfather: Part 1 – Chapter 42

RIAGAN

“She is my only virtue.” — R

“What is it about that girl that has you losing your fucking mind?” The other bane of my existence, Kelly, asks while cleaning his gun for the third fucking time this night. We’re at Mayhem or more like the abandoned basement below. It just got done sending one more useless cunt to meet the Reaper but not before having a little bit of fun with him first.

A loud, incoherent mumble sounds from my right. Turning away and ignoring Kelly, I walk towards the man currently hanging from the ceiling by a hook on his shoulder with blood staining his cream-colored shirt. Men like this fuck don’t deserve to breathe. Their kind is filthy, and as such, they should be treated like it. Hence why he ended up in my hands. The Russians wanted him, but I got to him first. How does the saying go? The early thug gets the pedo? No, I don’t think that’s right. Although, my version sounds much better.

Looking at Elijah Walter, I think back to the shit my men and I walked into a month ago. I’ve seen sick shit, shit that would turn the stomach of any man, but the things this motherfucker has done would even make the devil cry, and it did.

The Solonik brothers were the ones who were impacted more, and that is the only reason why I am not killing this bitch now. Let the Russians have the honor, but until it’s delivery time, I’ll enjoy each and every second we have left together in my playground.

We cut and burned his body until the fucker passed out, and once he gained consciousness, Kelly fucked him in the ass with his favorite rifle. One with a magazine grip designed to quietly kill wounded animals. This fuck is no wounded animal, and he was shown no mercy.

There is no mercy for the ones who hurt the innocent, and this sick son of a bitch snuffed out the light and the purity of children and women as a sport.

I am not a good man, but even I have limits that Elijah crossed.

Now, he’s here.

“Having fun yet, Elijah?” I smile when the asshole shakes his head and mumbles, clearly in pain and seeking mercy. “No? I’m wounded.” Touching my heart, I feign disappointment. “And here I thought we were having a blast. I guess we should continue then. See if anything changes for you.” I slap him as if we’re the best of friends. I’m having a blast.

Taking a cig out, I place it between my lips and then pull out my zippo, lighting it up. I take a deep and long puff before expelling the smoke his way. My grin widens when his eyes widen, and he starts to fight against his restraints, but the loveliest thing is that when he fights against his restraints, the ropes burn his already-burnt skin, and the hook goes deeper, making him scream. It’s painful, I imagine.

Still, it is not enough.

It will never be enough compared to what he subjected those children and young women to.

I deal in the gun and drug trade but never flesh trade.

Only the sick fuckers of this world have the heart and the stomach to do that shit.

The second I walked inside the wagons with my men, where the kids were being stored in until they were transferred to be auctioned as if their lives were not their own, I knew I would never be the same man I was before I walked into that hell.

I also vowed for as long as I have breath in my lungs and blood in my body, I would not rest until I rid this fucking world of scums like this one, but for that I needed a little help, and that is how New York and Chicago come into the equation.

I don’t care about wars. Wars are for stupid and weak men.

The real winner is the one who knows he does more with allies than enemies.

And although I may have my differences with not only the Soloniks, Sandoval and even the fucking president of the United States, I know they stand for the same shit I do.

The wicked are fair game to us.

Getting out of my head, I step closer to Elijah, removing the cloth from his mouth. I want his screams. I get off on their screams. Their shouts of agony feed the sadistic animal in me. It always has, and this time is no different.

Once the gag is removed from his mouth, the fucker starts to plead. Ignoring him, I take another long drag of my cig while holding onto his face tightly so he doesn’t move. He’s helpless against the brutality he’s about to suffer. Good. Let him feel what they all felt. What I felt when I saw the kids, covered in bruises and naked, knowing I couldn’t save them from the horrors this man and his colleagues put them through.

“Kelly.”

“Cap.”

“Take a picture of us.” I turn my face and smile from ear to ear. All the while, Elijah screams obscenities. Oh no, he’s showing his colors. Now he knows mercy won’t come. Pain, and ultimately, death, will.

“This is glorious, Cap. Say cheese.” Kelly points his phone toward us, looking giddy as he always does when he gets to let his psychotic tendencies loose.

“You’re sick. Fuck. Stop, you piece of shit.” Elijah shouts over the pain when I put pressure on his jaw and break it. There. He’ll be quiet now.

“Hurry the fuck up.” I finish crushing Elijah’s jaw in my hands, enjoying the satisfying snap.

Then I take my cig out of my mouth and shove it in his eye.

Once I’m done with him, he’ll be wishing for a quick death.

Stepping back from Elijah, I walk toward the sink near the door to clean his filthy blood off my hands. Feeling Kelly join my side, I look over from the corner of my eye as he scrolls through his photo gallery.

“You never answered me, Cap.” Kelly speaks once I shut off the sink.

Wiping my hands with a rag, I turn his way, ignoring our prey’s whimpers of pain. “Why do you care?”

Kelly leans against the sink with his arms crossed. “Just want to know what I’m fighting for.”

“You fight for me and this family, Kelly.”

“For the girl, too?”

Turning my face, I stare him dead in the eye. “She’s mine.”

There’s nothing else to be said.

The O’Sullivan gang values family over all else.

That’s what differentiates us from the Italians.

They feed their people to the vultures.

We die protecting ours.

And after I am done, there will be no doubt that the blonde angel with a smile that brought my heart back to life… is mine.

Maybe that’s why I feel the compulsion to rid this world of all this ugly.

It should be a fucking crime to have someone as good as her be touched by all these filths.

Yeah, that’s why I do it.

And I’ll keep doing it until the day I die.

I’m too far gone.

I don’t tell him, though. That since meeting the girl, my life doesn’t seem so fucking bland.

There’s color.

Everywhere.

Just by thinking about her.

She did that with just one soft-spoken word and a sweet smile.

And every second she was far away from me… it felt like an eternity.

An agonizing one.

“It feels as if I waited a thousand fucking years for you…” I whisper, watching the rise and fall of her chest while she sleeps. The second her head landed on the pillow after we got done dancing in the rain and sought shelter in the gazebo, she went under. I notice she falls asleep everywhere. It doesn’t matter if she’s uncomfortable.

That was proven when I found her huddling in a corner of a dark closet. I don’t let the anger that threatens take over me. I don’t allow the dark thoughts to get at me at this moment in time. Not while she’s sleeping soundly, with a small smile on her face.

She suffered from night terrors, but they’ve gradually disappeared since she’s been here, except for one. Carlotta and Bain, the man I had on her when I couldn’t be there, the one she knows as Augustus gave me daily updates on her, and one of them was the fact that she would wake up in the middle of the night screaming from nightmares that haunted her. It feels fucking good to know that, since she’s been here with me, the nightmares are slowly fading away. A creature as good and pure as her shouldn’t be touched by darkness and the ugliness of this world.

I shove down the anger I feel every time I think about the shit she’s gone through and focus on her instead.

On her beauty and the fullness of my chest whenever I see her. Fuck. I’m so obsessed with this girl, it’s not even funny. So much so that, after I know for certain she’s fallen asleep, I sneak into her room to watch her sleep as if I had the power to keep the nightmares away. Sometimes I just sit there watching her sleep, just to make sure she’s real and that this is not a dream. That she is alive and well with me.

Like I am doing now.

After the rain settled, we went inside the mansion, and I walked her to her room. I didn’t push her for more, even though just a kiss will never be enough. I can’t push her because, if I do, she might retreat into herself, and I will lose everything I’ve accomplished this past week.

I walked her to her room and kissed her goodnight.

Then, I snuck in like I do every night.

I sit in the huge bean bag chair next to her bookshelf with one of her books in hand. Yeah, I sometimes pick up one of her books with the naked assholes on it and read them. I was surprised to replace out that my sweet butterfly likes her filthy stories. The shit I’ve read in some of these books almost made me fucking blush. Almost.

There are a thousand and one things I love about Mila. One is her ability to be unapologetically herself, even when she sometimes feels self-conscious and afraid to show the real her. She managed to surprise the fuck out of me the first time I ever laid eyes on her, when she looked like a breakable little doll, but then opened her mouth to tell me off. A man a decade older than her with more kills than tattoos on his body. She is soft and kind, yet she is strong and curious at the same time.

She loves fucking baking, plants and fairytales, yet she also reads about a CEO fucking his much younger intern on his desk while pinning her down and calling her his little slut. It turns me the fuck on. I am not ashamed to admit it.

And I can’t wait for the moment she lets me do to her what the men she reads about do to their women. The things I would show her. The things I would do to her body would make her blush more than her little books do.

I smile when I notice she added a blue sticky tab to a page where the characters are having sex while one of them is in a zoom meeting. That’s what I call multitasking.

Dirty, dirty, beautiful girl.

Closing the book, I place it back on the shelf where I took it from and lean back, getting comfortable just watching her. Her wild curls are splayed all over her pillow and one is stuck to her mouth as she softly snores. She even manages to look adorable with her mouth open while she sleeps. I long for the day I can lie down in the same bed and hold her while she sleeps.

Soon.

There’s a buzzing in my pocket. Reaching inside my jeans, I pull out my phone and see a notification.

Maeve: Location has been compromised. They’re coming for her. You have to move. Now.

Fuck.

I quickly get up, rush to the bed, and gently pick Mila up in my arms.

“Riagan?” She slowly opens her eyes and looks at me for a second before her eyes look around her. “What is going on?”

Tucking her closer to my chest, I hurry out of her room and into the hallway, making my way toward the stairs when I get an eerie feeling. I put Mila down on the floor and grab her shoulder, gently forcing her to look my way. “I need you to trust me, butterfly. Will you do that?”

Without question, she nods her head yes. Fuck, so sweet. “Yes.”

“Cover your ears and stay behind me, and whatever you do… don’t move. Be my shadow, yeah?”

Again, she nods and does as I say without question, but I see it. The fear in her eyes. I don’t have time to feel guilty or think about all the ways this could go wrong. Of all the ways I fucked up. Nobody knows of this place. It’s a safe house, so that means someone betrayed me. But who? With no time to dwell on it, I focus on getting out of this situation alive and with my girl intact.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I say. “Nothing will happen to you.”

“And you?” The question is barely a whisper.

My eyes soften, and so does my tone when I watch her gently touch my beard. “I’ll be alright as long as you stay behind me, okay?”

Her eyes come up to meet mine for a second before they look back down. “Okay.”

With that, I position her hands on her ears and move her behind me, leading the way and using my body as a shield. I need to get my gun. Shit.

Bang.

Bang.

Gunshots ring through the air not far from where we were. I die a little when I feel Mila trembling behind me. Loud noises affect her so much that she retreats into her head as a safety mechanism. I could have left her hidden in her room, but what guarantee did I have that she wouldn’t be found? The only safe place for her is behind me. With me, because I would sooner take a dozen bullets to the chest than allow anything to happen to her.

“Cap!” Kelly comes running up the stairs, covered in blood with two guns strapped to his naked chest, a bloody knife on one hand and a semi-automatic in the other. I let out a sigh of relief when I see that he is alive.

“How many?” I ask and take the semi-automatic from him.

“Counted ten and took out five of those bitches.” The son of a bitch smiles wide with blood-stained teeth.

Looking at my man, I hold the gun tighter in my grip ready to tear the world down, if need be, to get her out of this island with her life. “Don’t kill them all. We need to replace out how the fuck our location was compromised.”

Kelly nods once, then gives me his back, where a tattoo of the grim reaper towering over the dead corpse of a woman is on full display.

It all happens quickly.

The intruders came here with one purpose and one purpose only. To take us out.

When the first motherfucker appears before me with his gun raised and pointing my way, I shoot him straight in the head before he gets the chance to pull the trigger. Then, two more come in, running, but Kelly gets to them first by slashing the first man’s throat and blowing the second’s brain out and covering not only himself in blood but the white walls too.

I shut my emotions off so I don’t let them cloud my judgment and make me lose focus. Two more mercenaries are left.

When I see one dressed from head to toe in black with a black ski mask covering his face coming up behind Kelly with his gun raised to the back of my clan chief’s head. I yell. “Kelly, duck.” When he does, I shoot at the fucker. The bullet pierces his neck, and he drops.

“Ahhh.” I whip my head when I hear Mila scream in pain. Rage consumes me until all I see is red. Red over the motherfucker who grabbed my girl by the neck and put that terrified look on her pretty face. Tears fall down her rosy cheeks, sealing the fate of the motherfucker that’s hurting her.

“Drop the fucking gun, or I’ll slice her fucking neck.” The fucker screams, scaring her further. I watch as her eyes can’t seem to focus on just one thing, and her lips move as if she’s singing a song under her breath. “You, too.” He says to Kelly.

Putting the gun down slowly, I raise my hands. “We both know you won’t do that. You need her alive to claim the money.” I grin like a fucking lunatic, eager to tear him limb from limb. “If you let her go, I’ll triple the offer.”

Dogs like this one always want more. They’re never satisfied, and that will always be their downfall. Greed. When the mercenary takes a second to think about the offer, that’s when we attack. In tune with each other, Kelly throws his blade at the asshole, hitting him on the shoulder, and at the same time, in one swift movement, I take Mila from him and give her to Kelly before going back to the son of a bitch.

Tackling the fucker to the ground, I rip the mask off and pummel his face until he’s no longer recognizable, and then I continue some more until he’s on the verge of death.

The cunt put his hands on her. Made her fear for her life.

I lose all control and only stop when I feel Kelly’s hands pushing me back from the almost-dead man on the floor. Spitting on the fucker, I get off the floor and turn. “Grab him.” I order Kelly without looking away from Mila. She has her arms crossed as if she’s covering herself from any threat that might come her way, and she’s looking down at the bloody mess on the floor, then her eyes move to me.

I stand there, with my future a few feet away, looking at me like I didn’t just kill and beat a man to a bloody pulp. Like I am not covered in blood from head to toe. I let her see. I let her see all of me.

Because yes, I might be the prince in her story, but I am also the villain. The nightmare who won’t hesitate to annihilate anyone that dares take her from me or hurt her in any fucking way.

“I told you we would be okay, sweetheart.”

“Riagan…” Her sweet mouth forms an ’O’ shape, but her eyes? Those gorgeous expressive blues? They hold no anger, no fear. Nothing like moments before.

All I see is curiosity and a whole lot of sparks.

And that’s how our time in paradise ends.

With blood in my hands and rage in my heart.

The dream is over.

It’s time to go home.

To my playground.