Page 145 of Milo

"Well, good thing I brought a knife, right?" I say, frustrated by the entire turn of events. Marchello is right. I look so fucking suspicious now. I did the exact opposite of what I was trying to do. "How bad is this, Milo? Tell me the truth."

"It is not good, tesoro," Milo sighs, opening my bedroom door. He follows me into the bathroom, slumping against the counter. He watches as I remove my shirt and wash Andre's blood from my hands. "Are you hurt?"

"It's not mine.” Light pink water circles the drain as I scrub my hands. "I'm sorry for killing him. I know I created more problems for you."

"You're sorry?" Milo crosses his arms, his gaze fluttering around my face. "Are you sure?"

"What?" I dry my hands, slipping on a clean t-shirt. "What do you mean am I sure?"

He hesitates for a second before stating, "It takes around five minutes for a man to bleed out, Kiara. If you wanted to save him, you could've gotten help."

I swallow, averting his gaze. "I know that."

"You wanted him to die," Milo muses, his expression tight, almost uncomfortable. "You wanted him to suffer."

"Is that wrong?" I look at myself in the mirror. This time, I don't hate the woman looking back at me. I admire her. "Does that make me a bad person?"

"Not in my eyes, no. But how do you feel, Kiara?" Milo asks in a low voice, trying to read my mood. "Do you want to talk to Julia? Maybe she can help."

I walk to the bed and take a seat on the edge. "Do I look like I need help?"

"No," Milo observes, hovering above me, studying me carefully. "But last time?—"

"I'm fine, Milo," I interrupt him, crawling under the sheets. He frowns. "Really, I'm fine. I don't—" I rest against the headboard, expelling a sigh. "I feel fine."

"You just murdered a man, Kiara…” Milo sits down beside me and takes my hand. "Are you positive you are alright?"

"He was a rapist and a murderer, and he attacked me," I say flatly. "Am I supposed to feel bad? Plus, technically, it was self-defense." I pull my hand away, suddenly feeling quite annoyed. "Why are you so concerned? You kill people all the time."

Milo's lip twitches. "I do not wish for you to become me, Kiara."

"And I do not wish to continue this conversation," I state, turning away from him. "I want to sleep. You can leave now."

"Tesoro," Milo whispers, caressing my hair. "Do not be mad at me. I am worried about you."

"Worried about me? Why?" I aggressively roll over, narrowing my eyes. "Should I have not killed him? I should've just let him rape me? I don't understand what you're trying to say."

Milo swallows. "I know how much you value your humanity, Kiara. I do not wish to see you fall apart and resent me in the future."

I expel a deep sigh, feeling guilty for being so snippy. "Baby,” I squeeze his hand, "I'm fine, I promise. I don't feel any less human, I really don't. Andre deserved what he got, he did. Maybe I wasn't thinking about the consequences in the grand scheme of things because I know this is going to be a headache to clean up, but I don't regret doing it. I don't."

Milo's expression softens. "Clean up?"

I roll my eyes, suppressing a smile. "See? I'm becoming fluent."

"Yes.” He arches down, pressing his soft lips against mine. "Yes, you are."

"I love you," I whisper, leaning into his touch. "I really do."

Milo smiles, kissing my cheek. "Rest now, Kiara. I will wake you up in a few hours."

"No, it's fine. Just let me sleep. I'm ready for this day to be over." Milo climbs into bed with me. "What are you doing?"

"Close your eyes, tesoro," he whispers, pulling me against his chest. "I will stay until you fall asleep."

"Are you worried I'll start crying once you leave?"

"No." Milo tightens his arms around me, kissing my temple. "I am not."

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