Mila: The Godfather (Unholy Trinity Book 7) -
Mila: The Godfather: Epilogue 2
“I walked through fire so you could both have your one day.” — K
“Why are you nervous, mo chuisle?” I hold tightly onto Mila’s hand while we walk toward a small cafe with a European theme that looks like a place that should be in France, not on a crowded street in Washington.
It only took a call to arrange this meet-up.
It did take me a while to make sure everyone involved was safe while meeting somewhere so public, but I knew it was something that needed to happen.
Both Mila and I have been through some shit.
From betrayals I never expected and a threat that still looms in every corner of my city.
Conor was both the betrayer and the threat.
I let him leave the mansion that night with his life only because he put himself in between the bullet that could have taken my wife from me, and for that reason only. Not even my gratitude for his twin sister could’ve saved him. I did offer him mercy, but on the condition that he stay gone and out of sight.
I don’t want him in my city. I don’t trust him to be near us.
If he knows what’s good for him, he better stay far away because I won’t offer him mercy a second time.
He was going to hand over my wife for his selfish greed.
For money.
The two-faced asshole had more than what he could’ve imagined with me, and yet it wasn’t enough for him. Not only did he lose my trust and respect but he lost his brothers in arms and broke his twin sister’s heart.
A twin sister who’s not the same person she used to be because of him.
Then, there was Kadra, who appeared out of nowhere and didn’t fight to take her sister back like I was anticipating.
She chose to set Mila free, and I’m grateful I didn’t have to take out my wife’s dear sister. If it had come down to it, I would have.
I would annihilate anything and anyone who came between us and tried to take her away from me.
Now, the time for my butterfly to see her sister again is here, away from everything that haunted them both.
The only piece missing is her middle sister, Kadra, but that’s a long and fucked-up story for another day.
“Do you think she hates me?” I whip my head so fast, flabbergasted by her absurd question. How could she think her own sister would hate her? “She doesn’t hate you. I don’t think someone that hates another person would look at you the way she’s doing now.” Leaning forward, I give her a peck on the top of her head, push her forward, and watch as Mila slowly turns and looks at her older sister, who stands holding her husband’s hand with her other one guiding a little girl, who looks like a replica of the president, pushing a stroller with a chubby baby in it, while their security makes a barricade around them as they slowly make their way toward us.
Who would’ve guessed that a once-cold mafia princess who had a great talent for pissing people off with her nonchalant attitude and her vicious mouth is not only the beloved first lady of the United States of America and a CEO, but a mother of two kids? How the man above allowed two cold and cocky assholes like those two to procreate is a mystery to me.
Yet here they are, with their two cute-as-fuck pawns.
“Arianna…” The way my wife whispers her sister’s name, both in elation and pain, makes my heart constrict inside my chest. Then there’s the look of pure adoration on Arianna Parisi’s face and a couple of tears, too, as she watches her little sister.
“Mommy, is this fairy Mila?” The tiny girl with wild curls, the same as my wife’s, asks with a pretty smile on her face.
“Ellaiza, Royal, and Sebastian…” Arianna speaks up, sounding both strong and vulnerable at the same time. “Meet my stelina.”
Shit.
When she says it, I turn to look at my butterfly worried that it’s all too much for her and that the attention may make her anxious, but then she takes a step forward, and I know she’s going to be just fine. Because she’s no longer that scared girl who, in my eyes, was the bravest person I’d ever met, but she didn’t see it that way. A girl who overthought everything, too afraid of other people’s reactions.
Now, she’s a woman who, although shy and at times reserved, goes after what she wants.
I stand back and let her enjoy her moment, the one she always dreamed of with her sister. Her one day where they no longer hurt.
A day where they cry from happiness instead of heartaches and abuse.
Fuck, look at her.
She’s glowing.
Then, I feel something warm and sweet start fluttering through my chest when she stops halfway to her sister and her family and looks back at me, extending her hand for me to take. I do. I take her hand in mine and move toward the family she longed for so much. Towards one of her sisters. “Arianna, I want you to meet my favorite person.” Mila’s voice, although soft and shy, comes out strong and proud, too. “My husband.” The moment she says that the Parisi spawn narrows her eyes at me just like she did many years ago when I first met her little sister. She tells me many things with her icy green eyes, most of them not fucking good, but just like last time, I could care less what she thought of me. Her little sister is stuck with me. I ain’t going anywhere. She’ll have to deal.
Because Mila is not only my pulse, my world, and my love.
She’s everything. My past. My present. My future. My soulmate—the one who shares the path of my soul.
Feeling eyes on the back of my head, I turn away from the heartwarming scene of two sisters replaceing their way back to each other and looking over my shoulder. Frowning, I notice a black figure straddling a bike, but from all the way here, it’s too hard to tell if it’s a man or a woman. I quickly reach for my gun and move toward my woman, ready to eliminate anyone who is a threat to her.
What I didn’t know, at the time, was that the silhouette watching from afar was not a threat at all, but the other half of these sisters’ hearts.
“Riagan, come meet Sebastian Kenton!” My wife speaks up, catching my attention. When I turn back, the silhouette is gone, making me think perhaps I imagined it. “Did you know that he’s considered the hottest president of all time?” I never thought a day would come when I wouldn’t care for one of the fun facts my beautiful wife likes to share. Ignoring the president’s cocky smirk, I walk over to my wife and take her into my arms.
Fuck the hot president.
Fuck any man who isn’t me.
Because I’m it for her, just like she’s it for me.
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