Page 133 of Milo

"Yes, Kiara, I am confident." He links his fingers through mine. "Let's not think about this today, yes?"

"Okay," I hum as we follow the whimpering cries of Natalia into the living room.

"Talia!" Milo exclaims, holding out his arms. "Buon Natale, mia principessa. Why are you crying?"

"Zio!" Natalia darts toward us, her baby pink dress bouncing with every step. "Mamma won't let me open my presents!"

My gaze darts to Julia who's already sipping on a glass of white wine. "Do not judge me, cara," she states in a sour tone. "You did not give birth to a demon child."

Paolo comes up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Julia, smile, baby, it's Christmas." He kisses her neck. "Relax, please?"

Antonia claps her hands, drawing our attention. "I think it is time to put Talia out of her misery." She looks at her granddaughter. "You may now open your gifts."

Natalia screeches, stumbling toward the fourteen-foot-tall Christmas tree by the fireplace. Teresa saunters into the room with a tray of espresso and a glass of wine. "Buon Natale," she says to me and Milo before walking to Julia.

"She will be wasted by ten," Milo notes with a soft laugh, taking a seat next to his mother on the couch. He gives her a kiss on the cheek. "How many glasses has she had?"

Antonia scowls. "Too many." She peers up at me. "Do you drink, Kiara?"

I blink, taking a sip of coffee. "I do."

"In the morning? Before breakfast?" Antonia adds, sighing, "Lord save my daughter."

"Mamma," Milo says in a drawn-out playful tone. "It could be worse; she could be snorting cocaine."

Antonia gasps as she slaps Milo's knee. "Stop that. Dio mio, Emilio. Natalia is right there." She lets out a shaky breath. "I raised animals. Both of you."

Milo cranes his neck toward me, tossing me a wink. "Yes, I am an animal, aren't I?"

My jaw drops. In front of his mother?! "I think I need some cream, if you'll excuse me."

"I will go with you," Milo offers and I cast him a hardened glare. "On second thought, I will stay here."

"Good idea.” Christmas with the Di Vaio's. Definitely not normal. Turning the corner toward the kitchen, I bump into Marchello and Luisa. "Good morning, Luisa." I give her a hug. Glancing over her shoulder, I smile at her father. "Merry Christmas, Marchello."

"To you too, Kiara," he says with a warm smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "It is nice that we are all together."

"Yes, the whole family under one roof, it doesn't happen very often," Luisa notes with a sly smirk. "And maybe today we will celebrate more than just Christmas? Hmm, Kiara?"

I shrug, casting her a knowing smile. "Maybe."

She beams. "Really?!"

"Luisa," Marchello says, keeping his tone level as he tugs on his daughter's arm. "You can talk later; we should go see Milo. You can give him your gift."

Luisa subtly rolls her eyes. "Of course, papà."

"I'll see you in a minute," I say, choosing not to be affected by Marchello's lack of enthusiasm.

"How many presents did you guys get her?" I scan the once visible hardwood floor which is now covered with shredded wrapping paper, bows, and toys. "Don't you think you're spoiling her a bit?"

Milo chuckles, kissing my temple. "Are you jealous, tesoro? Do you wish to be spoiled?"

"Yeah, I'm jealous of a three-year-old," I jeer, giving him a slight shove. "But seriously, it's been like two hours and she's still opening gifts? Seems a bit over the top."

"Perhaps." Milo shrugs, gazing at Julia and Paolo who are on the floor trying to help Natalia put together a toy. "But look how happy she is."

I roll my eyes. "I'm just saying, our children would get like a maximum of ten presents. Anything more than that is just absurd."

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