Page 113 of Milo

"See? Self-control," he smirks, leaning against the counter. "Are you proud of me, tesoro? I am a changed man."

I snort. "You lost the game. Very early."

He cocks his head to the side, raking his fingers through my hair. “No, I definitely won."

"I'm not a prize," I retort, unable to stop myself from grinning.

"Correct, you are not a prize," he says, pulling me against his chest into a strong, tender embrace. "You are a treasure that I've been searching for my whole life."

"Your whole life?" I ask cautiously, kissing his neck as my heart hammers in my chest. "As in you've never found it before?"

We both know what I'm asking.

I think.

"Never," he whispers, kissing my forehead. "Until now."

"Me neither," I admit, averting my gaze, suddenly feeling shy, exposed, bare. But it's the truth. A terrifying fact. "We uh—" I clear my throat. "We should get ready for dinner. Julia said Teresa is making Pansotti."

"Let's shower," he suggests, wiggling his eyebrows. "I will clean you. You are a very dirty girl."

"Tempting." I narrow my eyes, casting him an unimpressed scowl. "But we don't have time. It's almost eight."

"Fine," he says, with an unbothered shrug. "I don't mind if you smell like sex." He pauses, tilting his head. "Do you?"

"I'll use some perfume," I say, exiting the bathroom. "Chanel overpowers anything."

"You will need to use the whole bottle, tesoro.” He slaps my ass on the way out. "Maybe two."

"Good thing you can afford it," I sing, picking up my robe and tossing it on. "See you in a few minutes."

His distant laugh spears into my skin like sunshine as I head to my bedroom. It's rare to admire someone who has two distinctly different sides. Milo is like an old book, his edges are rough, harsh, somewhat withered, but inside, there's a masterpiece, adventure, romance.

In a dazzling daze, I get ready for dinner, my cheeks hurting from the smile that refuses to leave my face. It's like I've been thrust into Aldous Huxley's A Brave New World, and I have Soma coursing through my body. I'm calm, pacified, in a total state of bliss.

Milo meets me at the top of the staircase as we walk hand-in-hand to the dining room, taking our places around the table.

"You are glowing," Julia whispers in my ears as idle conversation surrounds us. "I take it he enjoyed your purchase."

"That's one way to put it," I grin, shoving a piece of ravioli in my mouth as I glance over to Milo who's chatting with Marchello. I let out a content sigh. "It's really good."

"Please be talking about the food, cara," Julia says, leaning away from me. "Please."

"Hmm?" I hum, choking on the walnut and mushroom stuffed pasta. "Oh, yeah. It's delicious."

Julia scowls. "Mhmm, okay."

"We're adults, Jules. Get over it."

"Still gross," she huffs, taking a sip of wine. Her phone vibrates on the table and she picks it up, grinning. "Ah! Look! Tutte! Tutte!" Julia holds out the phone, showing us a picture of Natalia dressed in a professional tutu. "Isn't she the most adorable sugar plum fairy?! Her class is putting on a production of The Nutcracker. Ah! So cute! Paolo look!"

"The Nutcracker is a little advanced for a three-year-old.” I turn to Milo as Julia continues to gush over her precious daughter. "Right?"

"I do not believe it will be as choreographed as the original," Milo chuckles. "They mostly hop around...or cry."

"We attend every recital," Marchello says, checking his watch. "We support the children of this family."

"And we are so grateful for that!" Julia exclaims, joining our conversation. "Children are such a blessing, cara, believe me! When you have one of your own, you'll see. I remember when I was pregnant, God, I couldn't wait for it to be over so I could drink some fucking wine..." She trails off as I play with the food on my plate, a tiny pang of sadness grasping my heart.

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