Page 82 of Milo

My jaw drops. "You better?—“

"Kiara,” he cocks his head to the side, “don't be shy. It's very natural. Nothing to be embarrassed about."

I close my eyes. "I swear to God, Milo. If you don't change your fucking pants before going out in public, I will literally kill you."

He lets out a low chuckle. "You are radiant when you blush, tesoro. But do not worry. We are going straight to my office."

I frown. “Your office? Why?"

"I need to show you something.” He clears his throat, the energy in the room darkening. “It has to do with Andre."

The envelope.

My heart drops to my stomach. "What is it?"

"You will see." He holds out his hand, his eyes soft, inviting. "Shall we?"

"I need to use the bathroom first."

A knowing glimmer flashes across his face. "Very well. You can meet me there."

"Okay.” Before he exits, I call out, "Milo?"

He cranes his neck toward me, "Yes, tesoro?"

"Do I need to see this? Whatever it is."

"I believe it is necessary," he replies with a weak smile. "I will meet you in my office."

"Okay."

Is this what Marchello and Milo were arguing about?

Or something else?

Chapter 22

The Burden of Truth

When it comes to the mafia, Julia believes ignorance is bliss. She set boundaries. She has limits. She doesn't mind being left in the dark. She prefers it. Her Gucci rose-colored glasses are an everyday accessory. She wears them with pride. Ignorance makes this life tolerable for her. And that's okay. That's her choice.

But I am not Julia.

Nana raised me to be curious, to question everything, to never stop learning. For me, ignorance is weakness, knowledge is power, and power is confidence. Confidence to make my own decisions, to come to my own conclusions, to feel secure, to feel safe.

But as I sit down next to Milo on the black velvet couch tucked in the far corner of his office, two daunting letter-sized envelopes laid on the glass coffee table, ignorance doesn't seem so bad.

Unease gnaws on my intestines as Milo grabs one of the folders, his eyebrows drawn together with apprehension.

"After what happened in Monaco, I had several of my private investigators look into Andre," Milo begins. "I wanted concrete evidence that he was indeed affiliated with Igor and the brotherhood."

"And was he?" I keep my expression neutral despite the fact I'm shocked he's divulging information related to the business. "Part of Bratva?"

"Yes," Milo confirms, his tone sour. "He was."

I knew he was, but the solidification of facts is disconcerting. I wonder what's going to happen when his boss finds out. What does that mean? What will happen? Will they come after me? After Milo?

Oh, God.

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