Page 107 of Milo

I let out a deep breath. “Yeah. All about balance."

After a moment of comfortable silence, Milo asks, "Do you still want to join us for dinner?"

"Yes," I state with absolute certainty. "I do."

"Alright, I will let you change." He pauses, hesitating for a second as he stares at me.

"What?"

He clears his throat. "I personally believe you look beautiful all the time; however, you might want to touch up your make-up. It is a bit smudged."

I spin around, my eyes widening as I look at my reflection. "Oh, God. I need to buy waterproof mascara."

Milo hugs me from behind. "Nonsense. I will simply have to ensure that you do not cry anymore."

I lean back into his arms. "That might be a challenge. I tend to cry a lot."

"I will fix that. No more tears, tesoro. Be happy."

“I am. I really am."

"Good." Milo kisses the top of my head. "I'll meet you in the dining room. Don't be late."

I toss him a scowl as he walks away. "I am never late."

"I know," he grins, exiting my room. "But you are so cute when you frown."

I roll my eyes, waving him off as I face the mirror. Despite the dried mascara on my cheeks and my bloodshot eyes, the woman looking back at me looks...happy.

Today I choose happiness. I get to decide how I feel. I will not be ruled by my past. I will not let the future scare me. Today I will live in the present, for it is a gift.

With one final glance at my Nana's locket, I suck in a solidifying breath and get dressed, slipping on a black cocktail dress and a pair of chunky heels. If the family is going to stare at me, I might as well give them something stunning to look at.

Twenty minutes later, I emerge in the dining room, the large banquet table covered in wine, antipasto, and rustic floral centerpieces. Milo and Paolo sit at the head of the table, Marchello, Gio, Matteo, Julia, Luisa, and a few others filling in the holes.

I smile at everyone as I straighten my shoulders and walk toward the empty chair on Milo's right. The eyes of the family follow me, quiet murmurs slipping from their tongues. I don't let their whispers faze me.

Today, I choose happiness.

"You look lovely.” Milo places his hand on my thigh as I sit down. "Would you like some wine?"

I keep my voice low as I glance around the table. "I'd like a lot of wine.”

Gio and Matteo are immersed in a deep conversation about football. Luisa and Paolo are divvying up the appetizers. Julia is grinning at me like a kid hopped up on sugar.

Oh goodness. She's way too excited.

Marchello clears his throat, drawing my attention across the table. He eyes me with a tight-lipped smile as he lifts up his glass.

"To the future," he says, nodding his head. "To Santi Oscuri."

The entire table repeats his words, toasting to the future. To the mafia. To the uncertain times ahead.

I join in.

Toasting to my future.

As a part of their world.

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