Mila Babinski is the most deadly assassin the underground has seen in years... all the mobsters fear her... she even fears herself. Mila lost everyone she ever cared for at a young age and the time has now finally come to get her revenge. But when...
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"Giuseppe."
Mila's words became an echo as I gripped the railing for support. He did this... He destroyed her life... My father was the one that broke her.
Tears glistening in my eyes, I cast my gaze up to Mila. Droplets of sadness cascaded down her rosy cheeks. My heart broke for this girl standing before me... this innocent soul had everything ripped away by my blood...my family...how can she bare to look at the face I had the hardship of sharing with the monster himself.
Taking a deep breath, I cautiously moved towards Mila and cupped her cheeks in my hands, whilst softly wiping her tears away. She instantly leaned into my touch, which settled my nerves slightly.
"I am so so sorry Mila... I-"
"Stop," she gripped my wrists and slowly traced comforting circle over my pulse as it now beats at a steady pace. "As much as I wanted to blame you when we first met... I couldn't...I couldn't force myself to place the hatred I have for your father onto you. None of this is your fault... it was him...not you."
She placed her hands -now on my chest- slowly moving them to link around my neck as I pulled her closer and intertwined my arms around her. I rested my forehead against hers, our breathing became one as her nose softly grazed mine.
"You were only a boy, you couldn't have stopped him... no one could." Mila barely whispered the last part as she seemed to drift off into her own nightmare of memories.
"Mila... what happened that night?"
She closed her eyes as her eyelashes fluttered in the gently breeze. Mila placed a soft lingering kiss on my lips before she removed herself from our embrace.
"Please take me home," she mumbled.
I nodded and took her hand as I led us back to the car.
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Flashes of that night blurred my vision the whole ride back to my apartment. Dante kept my hand in his, in an attempt to soothe the panic that ignited within me. I could tell by the way his other hand gripped the wheel, that I was not the only one in need of comforting.
