Mila: The Godfather (Unholy Trinity Book 7)
Mila: The Godfather: Part 1 – Chapter 5

MILA

“You’re a queen, Mila. Never forget it.” – A

“And the princess fell in love with the frog…” I whisper aloud to the dark, closing the book, wondering how could a pretty princess fall in love with an amphibian? That makes zero sense to me. A dog? I could see that happening. Cats, too. They’re pretty darn cute, but a slimy, ugly frog? That’s strange.

But I guess I shouldn’t judge.

Strange would be my middle name if my father had a say now.

Oddly, he gave me my name.

Mila Areya.

He chose it before he realized I came ’defective’.

His words. Not mine.

I have been a disappointment to him way before he was made aware of my developmental disorder. Asperger’s syndrome.

He gave up on me the moment he was told I was another girl and not the heir he was expecting. The boy he still to this day longs for.

He even told me so on many instances.

Thoughts of my father make me sad, and I don’t want to feel sad. Not today. So I try to think of happy things instead.

Tapping my chest three times, I think of the color blue, Cactaceae, chubby puppies, and my sisters.

That instantly does the trick because my mood brightens enough for me to forget all about my neglectful and cruel father for a little while.

Thoughts of my sisters make me start to contemplate the idea of sneaking out in search of them. They haven’t been to see me all day, which is odd since they sneak in a visit once or twice a day when they know no one is around to stop them or punish them.

Putting the fairytale book down, the same one my sister Arianna gave me once for my birthday, I get off the floor and make my way outside my room in search of them. It’s very late. I should be in bed by now, and I know better than to leave my room, but I miss them.

I am lonely, and I’m cold.

I don’t like the cold.

Father is cold and cruel.

He enjoys making me cry, and so do the men that work for him. He won’t like it if he replaces out, but there’s a funny feeling in my stomach, and I always follow my gut. It usually never fails me.

When I’m almost to the first step of the stairs that lead down to the main entrance, shaky hands grab my shoulders, halting my steps.

Uh-oh.

I’ve been caught.

Dread coils in my belly, and my breath gets caught in my throat.

“What are you doing, stelina?!” I release the breath I’ve been holding and instantly feel better, knowing that it is my sister, Kadra, and not one of my father’s mean friends. “You can’t leave your room without one of us. You know this…”

I bow my head, my curls falling around my face like a curtain, and whisper. “I missed you… I thought you both forgot about me.”

Kadra sighs. “That’s impossible, Mila. You’re unforgettable.”

I feel her gloved hand grab my chin and tilt my head up so I can look at her, and when I do, my breath hitches. She has bruises on her face. Blue and purple bruises are forming around her left eye and right cheek, and her top lip is split open.

I lift my hand to my chest, where my heart is, and tap three times. I don’t know when exactly I started doing it, but somehow the habit has stuck with me. I only do it when it hurts or when I’m nervous. When my chest aches. My heart.

I do it in moments like this one.

When I was younger, I didn’t understand why my sisters walked funny at times or why they had bruises on their faces and arms, but I do now.

Even when they try to hide it from me.

I feel their pain because, ultimately, I am mostly to blame.

I don’t want them to hurt, but because of my existence and their love for me, they do.

You see… I am not like most people, a fact our father detests. He also has a serious problem with me not responding to my name when he calls it or the fact that my mouth, at times, has a mind of its own. I am different and my father doesn’t like different.

To be truthful, he doesn’t like me.

I never thought or noticed that there was something wrong with me. I am just me, but he didn’t like it.

At first, my sisters believed I was a quirky child because of my limited facial expressions, odd obsessions, and my compulsive need to touch things three times.

As I grew older, I realized that there was something more to me.

I don’t understand emotions very well, or at all at times. It’s difficult for me to decipher sarcasm or other forms of joking. I can’t look someone in the eye for too long before I look away at some other part of their body. Attention makes me nervous, and at times, uncomfortable.

So many things differentiate me from my sister. My parents know this, and instead of helping me replace ways to lead a normal life without shame, they decided to treat me as if I didn’t exist. As if I am not their daughter.

As if I am not human.

They hide me away so no one can see that the Parisi family isn’t as perfect as they make it seem. But that’s not the worst part. They punish my sisters if I do something wrong in their eyes.

For example… breathe.

He hits me, too, but not as much as my sisters, something that hurts me more than his fists ever will.

Noticing that I spaced out, I look up at my brave sister and I hug her midsection. “I love you, Sirius.”

It takes Kadra a few seconds to wrap her arms around me. She’s not big on affection like I am, and neither is Arianna, but for me, they try their best. “And I love you, little star.”

Little star.

Both of my sisters call me that, but they’re wrong.

They’re the ones who shine.

My light in the dark.

“Forever?” I hug her tighter as if it’s the last time I’ll get to do it.

“Beyond that.” She whispers harshly, pulling me closer to her.

I close my eyes and let her words wash over me, reminding me that as long as I have them, all will be alright. As long as we have each other, nothing can truly break us.

But something did break us.

Tore us apart.

That night I came to understand that fairytales were just that… tales, but not even the tragic reality of our life could make me stop believing that one day would come for us.

Happy days.

Good days.

The best days.

“Another ordinary day, Mr. Prickles,” I mumble to my Ladyfinger cactus before I open the blinds and let the morning sun flood my room, warming the cold atmosphere. Every corner of this mansion has always felt cold and dark, even on hot summer days.

It is how it has always been.

Empty.

I guess a home without love in it would feel cold and reek of devastation.

The minute the sun cuts through the glass, I see it glisten off the black obsidians. The ones that sit on top of my desk at the far left of the room. Given to me by my sister Kadra for transformation purposes.

Most people believe black obsidian serves to illuminate the shadows. That is true, but they do much more than that. For example, the crystal brings to light the dark and hidden aspects of yourself.

As flawed humans, we often tend to feel insecure about the darkness within and our imperfections, but the obsidian empowers the inner strength to explore the nature of destructive behavioral patterns.

My middle sister once told me that the beautiful crystal had the power to ground you to the earth’s center and absorb harmful energy.

At a young age, I found it fascinating as I do all the strange things in life. Plants, but not the pretty ones like most people are fixated on. No. I prefer the ones the vast majority of the world would consider boring and ordinary, like my cactus.

I am also obsessed with rocks with oddities.

Imperfect things seem perfect to me.

Because of this, and knowing that I love the crystal, Kadra then proceeded to fill my room with it to protect me as a shield from the outside world. As if the crystal had the power to keep the cruel and heartless away.

Still, I am thankful for the rocks and all my sister has given me before she climbed the ranks and now that she is boss.

I am always grateful for anything Kadra gives me because I know how much it cost her.

Both my sisters are like night and day, but as much as they tried to deny it, they share many things in common. While Arianna looks like a classic princess with her timeless beauty, Kadra looks like a badass and exotic supervillain.

One is cold, and the other is like fire.

One is calm, and the other is volatile.

The moon and the sun.

They have both always been on the extreme, but once, they would meet in the middle.

The middle was always me.

Like an eclipse.

It was a beautiful thing to witness.

Speaking of my sisters, I move towards my desk, take a seat and open my laptop, noticing the time on my screen.

11:11.

I close my eyes and make a wish.

I wish for the same thing every single day.

For my sisters to replace ’happily ever after’, even if it’s far away from me.

I never wish for anything for myself.

When I’m done, I look at my screen again, noticing the open chat, and smile when the red bubble pops up, alerting me of an incoming message from my sister.

From Arianna.

Kadra refuses to utter our big sister’s name, so it was up to me to keep in touch with Arianna in whatever way it was possible for me inside this mansion. Three years ago, I overheard Kadra speaking on the phone with someone about our sister and her whereabouts after years of not knowing if she was alright. From that conversation, I found out my big sister was not only shipped off to another state, but she was in the public eye. I still remember the night she looked at me as if I’d broken her heart. I didn’t understand anything other than that our father clearly wanted to not only humiliate Arianna but to get her as far away from us as possible.

No one uttered her name after that night. Not even Kadra.

I love my sister blindly, but in that moment and all the moments after, when she refused to tell me where our big sister was, I resented her until she told me that Arianna was alright and that from that moment on she would know only happiness.

Now, years later, I know for a fact, Kadra didn’t lie.

Arianna was safe, and she made something of herself when once she was treated like an object.

I always knew my sisters were meant for great things. Things they wouldn’t be able to reach while trapped inside this prison we once called home and while our father was in charge.

Clicking on the chat, I feel giddy and excited to see and read all about my sister’s adventures. Arianna sends me photos and updates of her life now and even shares stories of her travels. She does that a lot. She is finally seeing all the places she had photos of in her ceiling room.

The only thing we haven’t done is talk on the phone, and not for her lack of trying, but I don’t want to risk getting caught by my older sister, knowing she can access my call logs.

I don’t like being caught in their feud now that they have bad blood.

My excitement grows, and I can’t help the smile that takes over my face when I see a photo of her and a cute little girl with dark hair and expressive blue eyes.

Ellaiza.

My sister’s daughter.

Not by blood but by choice.

My sister’s heart chose to love that little girl as her own.

And to think she once thought she was cold and empty inside. Wrong. I never met anyone with a kinder heart than my big sister. Yes, she might be a little rough around the edges, but when you get close enough, you’ll be able to feel all that warmth that radiates from the beautiful light that shines from within her.

Just like the moon.

Poetic, really.

Reading the email, I replace out she’s getting married to the sitting President, Sebastian Kenton.

The man who took her from all the pain of our world.

A villain who turned out to be her savior.

Her person.

Good.

I am happy for her.

If anyone deserves a happily ever after, it is her.

She’s been at war since the moment she took her first breath and it brings me joy to see she finally has found peace.

It saddens me that I am not there to experience it all with her. She should have her sisters.

How I wish I could be there for her, not just through an email. Maybe if I tell Kadra she will let me attend. I think to myself, but then the hope I feel crumbles knowing that won’t happen. There’s not even a slim chance that my overprotective sister, who not only has taken full responsibility for me but is now the head of the Parisi crime organization now that our father vanished, would agree to that. Not with how things are lately.

Gabriele, our sperm donor, perished in the chaos he created. My sister’s words.

Sighing heavily, I close the computer just in time for a knock to sound on my bedroom door.

The person on the other side knocks three times, which I appreciate.

That’s our signal.

That’s how I know it’s her.

My protector.

My sister.

“Come in.” I turn on my desk chair, facing the door, and watch as my sister, Kadra, enters the room. If you didn’t know my sister, you would think she was the mistress of death who came knocking on your door to take your soul dressed in all black. A black pantsuit that should make her look businesslike and not sexy at all, but somehow my sister pulls it off.

Black heels.

Black gloves.

Those gloves…Every time I see them, it reminds me of the scars that still bleed in my sister’s heart.

“You look very beautiful today, stelina.” Kadra walks toward where I’m seated. My sister never smiles. Not ever. Not anymore.

My chest pangs.

I had a hard time when I was younger deciphering others’ emotions and their sincerity toward me. I learned most people mock me because they don’t understand me or don’t care to understand someone that doesn’t think the same way they do, but my sisters’ minds and hearts were always easy to understand because they showed me with actions what they felt for me instead of using words.

Most words mean nothing but actions. Acts of kindness and love? They mean everything.

At least for someone like me, they do.

Touching the brim of my favorite and only baseball cap, I whisper. “So do you, Sirius.” I shouldn’t have called her the term of endearment our older sister gave her when we were little, but sometimes I replace myself wishing that the reminder will make her feel something. Nostalgia.

Happiness.

Even hurt.

I feel guilty knowing, at times, I wish I could hurt her. Hurt her until she gives me something.

Anything but that unfeeling attitude.

But nothing happens.

It doesn’t move her.

Nothing does anymore.

Reaching forward, I touch a strand of her dark brown, almost black hair. Since I was a little girl, I used to do it. I like feeling how silky it is.

“I am attending a meeting on neutral grounds with Lorenzo and a few other bosses. You’ll stay here.” Kadra whispers, her voice empty.

I bow my head, not because she’s leaving but because… well, I don’t even know anymore. I’ve gotten so used to solitude that it’s become a second home to me. “Mila.” I feel the cold material of her gloves tilting my chin up, making me look at her. My sister is truly beautiful. While Arianna and I have blonde hair and golden skin, Kadra has long-to-her-waist dark hair, and eyes the same shade as her skin, like honey. We look nothing alike, if not for the dimple in her chin, the same one I have. That is the only trait we share and inherited from our father, Gabriele. “Nothing will touch you. No one will get to you. You needn’t worry.”

“I know.” And I do. My sister would take care of whatever threat comes my way in an instant. She’s done it before. It should scare me the lengths my sister would go to keep me safe from the world outside, but it doesn’t.

The darkness inside of her does not scare me.

Darkness has never caused fear in me.

I’ve come to learn that, at times, the most beautiful things are hidden in the dark, and true evil sometimes shines in plain sight.

However, lately…I feel like I’m drowning.

This loneliness is suffocating me.

Before, I didn’t mind the quiet so much, but now… something has changed inside of me.

So many things are happening all at once, and it all started with my sister Arianna leaving Detroit. Nothing is as it was, and maybe… maybe she was right.

We should not fear the unknown.

Because how could the world be scarier than the horrors we faced at home? I don’t believe that.

I believe there’s good, there’s bad, and the world is not evil. I just wish she trusted that I could handle my own against it.

The three of us saw things and went through things no child should go through, but deep down, I know Kadra has seen and experienced far worse.

Maybe that’s why I’ve been so compliant and kept my head down because I know she’s trying to keep me away from the horrors that she went through.

Smiling up at my sister, I grab her gloved hand, interlacing our fingers, feeling my heart race when our eyes meet, and I notice her eyes soften for a rare second. “She’s getting married,” I blurt out. Every time I bring Arianna up, Kadra shuts me down or changes the subject. This time she surprises me by tightening her hand around mine.

“She is.” Her tone is cold and indifferent.

She acts as if she doesn’t care, but I know better. That is why I try again. “One day came for her.”

“It did.” She murmurs, looking away from me and towards the window, where the sun is shining brightly with no clouds in sight.

“Maybe it will come for us, too,” I whisper with my heart on my sleeve while I look at our joined hands. Looking people in the eye has always been difficult for me. When I was younger, I couldn’t look my father in the face while he was talking to me, which made him angry. So angry that he would hit me or worse. He would take it out on my sisters. To avoid his wrath, I forced myself to maintain eye contact with people for as long as I could, even studying and copying other people’s emotions and reactions just so I could fit in, but I never measured up.

He found me lacking, while others found me strange.

So they hid me away so I couldn’t embarrass them.

It stung.

It hurt my heart because I couldn’t understand why I was so unlovable. Until I realized I wasn’t the problem.

They were.

The ones who had no compassion or empathy.

They are the problem. Not me.

My sister, Arianna, taught me that.

Kadra’s loud sigh reminds me that I am not alone. Then I feel a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I’ll see you tomorrow, alright? Be good.”

I’m always good. I want to tell her, but instead, I nod once and tap her chest where her heart is three times. I used to do that to her when I was younger, and I was unable to communicate with my sisters. It was a way for me to tell her ’I love you’.

Come on, Kadra, give me something.

But she doesn’t. Instead, she steps back and moves slowly towards the door, grabs the knob, and opens it wide but before she leaves, she turns to me.

Her stunning face is void of any emotion. I look at her red lips instead of her eyes. “All I do is for you, Mila. Never doubt that. Never…” She pauses, making me look at her eyes, and for a second I think I see a flash of hurt before her eyes look empty again. “Never doubt me.” With that, she turns and heads out of my room, closing the door quietly behind her.

I know my sister loves me, and I’ve never once doubted her.

She had to become this cruel and harden her heart to keep us alive.

Because our world? It’s a man’s world and a cruel one at that. Kadra had to build walls around her already-broken heart to be able to survive. I just wish she would trust my ability to take care of myself.

I don’t wish to be her burden or dirty secret as well.

Turning on my seat, I open the computer once again and type a quick message to my sister, congratulating her on her upcoming nuptials. Suddenly, I notice a light tapping on my window. Looking up from the computer screen, I see a small butterfly flapping its wings against the glass as if trying to come into the room.

The blue morpho.

One of the largest butterflies in the world, with wings spanning from five to eight inches.

How beautiful and how rare.

Oh, how freeing it must be to be a butterfly in this world.

To fly and travel and not be bound to just one place.

How lucky…

But what if…an idea pops up.

I glance at the clock, deciding what I’m going to do next.

Guilt claws at me when I think about what I’m about to do. But I only have one day.

One day… to have my someday with my big sister.

What could possibly go wrong in one day?

I should’ve known that a million things could go wrong in twenty-four hours.

And they did.