Page 29 of A Taste Of Darkness

Was said code still a thing when both of the parties involved were in their twenties?

It didn’t matter anyway. I wasn’t going to sleep with Milo, let alone kiss him or think about him in such ways. He merely dragged me into some bullshit, and I was determined to get myself out of it in some way. Even if that required spending a month with him in a country he loathed.

He was going to watch my every move, I knew that. The closer he was to me, the easier it was to get him to spill everything I needed to know.

More often than not, being seen as the innocent little lamb in the family had its advantages.

People were careless around me. They saw me as a wallflower, if even at all. They trusted me even if I didn’t give them a single reason to.

As I said, it was an advantage sometimes, so I could use that on Milo to figure out how to remove myself from this whole situation. He was going to fix whatever he broke to get me into this mess whether he wanted to or not.

“She couldn’t dictate my life even if she tried to.” Milo slid a pink bottle of water over the island countertop to me. “You were thirsty.”

I stared at the pink glass bottle, with a pink label, angel wings, and a crown as the cap. “This has got to be some kind of custom water.” There was no way one could simply buy this in a store. As my eyes fell onto the label, my heart almost stopped beating. “Are you crazy?!”

Since Milo knew exactly what caught my attention, he simply shrugged. “It’s not that expensive if you’re thinking about it.”

“Not that expensive?” I set the bottle down, then rubbed both of my eyes before I checked the label again as if to make sure I wasn’t seeing things. “This is FILLICO,” I said. “FILLICO Pink King. You have custom-made water from one of the most expensive water brands. This is nuts, Milo.”

“Well aware of the price. And it’s not entirely custom-made as they handcraft every bottle they sell. Also, they’re sold like this.” He takes out another bottle from his fridge. “I thought you’d like them since they’re pink.”

“Yeah, they’re pretty, but why would anyone pay like a million dollars for a bottle of water? And you’ve got more than one!”

“They’re not more than five hundred dollars. Besides, I have the more expensive one, too. It really doesn’t matter, cuore mio. I have more money than I know what to do with, so buying expensive water is just… not expensive anymore.”

How could he say this? I understood he was rich-rich, but while he was out here paying five hundred dollars for one liter of water, other people were starving to death. He could help entire villages escape poverty with the kind of money he had.

I took a deep breath before I opened the bottle to take a sip.

It tasted just like cheap water. Nothing fancy about it. And everything I thought tasted “more expensive” was pretty much my imagination.

After I set the bottle back down and closed the cap, I made my way over to Milo to slap him for being so careless with his money. But as I stood before him, looking up to meet his eyes, I got distracted.

Suddenly, I wondered how anyone with a face like his could do something as cruel, yet heroic, as he did.

I wondered what made him choose to murder those who deserved it, yet the police didn’t even put them in jail. What made those innocent brown eyes seek revenge?

“Milo?” I said quietly, a question on my tongue that had nothing to do with his poor water choices. “Can I ask you a question that I’m not sure you want to answer?”

His eyes filled with curiosity and concern, but I think he was anticipating my question more than he feared it. His gaze was intimidating but not in a bad way. He’d observed me more than anyone ever had, and Milo didn’t even know me.

He’d listen to each of my words with his full attention and answered my questions as best as he could while I was sure he still kept a lot from me. But he’d never ignore me. It was new to me.

When he didn’t reply immediately, my head fell, and my eyes sought shelter on the floor. Perhaps he was afraid of what I might ask, or concerned about what sort of excuse he could offer me.

“Look at me, cuore mio.” I didn’t. “I’m going to touch you,” he said before Milo brought a finger underneath my chin to lift my face again.

Why was he warning me before he touched me? No one had ever told me they would before they did. It was… strange; new. Oddly enough, it seemed exactly like something Milo would do.

“Any question you want answered, I’ll answer,” he finally said, keeping his voice soft. “So long as knowing the answer won’t put you in more danger.”

I didn’t know what that meant but I didn’t care either. Something about Milo made me feel protected; made me feel safer than I had in a while.

Air drew into my lungs, deep and heavy. “Why do you kill rapists?”

“Because they don’t deserve to walk a step on this earth. They don’t deserve to breathe oxygen or feel any kind of pleasure,” he replied. “And it’s not just rapists. I kill anyone who deserves it, but only a few people know that.”

I swallowed. Deep down inside of me, I knew I should’ve feared the man before me. I knew he wasn’t much better than those who fell victim to him. Okay, he was better. He didn’t kill for the fun of it, at least it sounded like it.

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