Page 87 of Milo

Resting my elbow on the table, I mindlessly sweep my fingers across all the abandoned necklaces and rings that we're organizing. Half we're donating, the other half we can keep. The ex-mafia queen apparently didn't think these pieces were valuable enough to take to Monaco. One woman's outdated Tiffany's is another woman's... normal Tiffany's.

Julia crosses her arms as she leans back into her chair, her cherry red lips pursed. "Don't lie to me, cara. I can see his name on the screen. What is going on with the two of you?"

I press my lips into a thin line as I add an opal ring with a gold band to my pile of keepers. "Nothing is going on. I just asked him about the gala. That's all."

Seeing as I don't know what the fuck is going on between me and Milo, I'm not really lying. He kisses me. He fucks me. He tells me I'm enchanting—whatever the hell that means.

And then he drops off the face of the planet.

Am I mad? No. I'm not mad. I'm annoyed. No. I'm not even annoyed. I am simply confused. Mildly irritated. Irked, if you will.

And maybe a little mad.

Just a little.

Julia lets out a sigh, tilting her head. "You can talk to me, cara. You know this. I am not a fool; I can tell that you have been hiding something from me."

Detective Julia.

"Does Paolo ever just... ignore you?" I avoid her invasive gaze. God, I sound like a damn teenager. Pathetic. "Like, does he just, I don't know, not reply to your messages for days?"

I am regressing into adolescence.

He is making me into a crazy phone watcher! Every time I get a notification, I jump in my seat. If Apple sends me one more notice to update my iOS, I might actually die from a heart attack.

Julia snorts. "All the time. I could probably fit all the text messages he's sent me over the past year on a single piece of lined paper. The men in this family are not exactly the best at communicating."

"No shit.”

"If it makes you feel better, Paolo has also been coming to bed very late the past couple of days," Julia muses, sifting through the necklaces. "Something important must have come up. I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you."

I narrow my eyes. "They're still here? In the house?"

Now I really am mad.

"As far as I know they have not left." Julia shrugs, her carefree light attitude making me feel extra pathetic. She glances up at me. "Kiara, if you do not stop frowning, you will need Botox way too early."

"You're right, you're right. I just need to let it go. I am letting it go." I expel a deep groan. "Milo can do whatever he wants. Not my problem."

"You had sex, didn't you?" Julia cocks her head to the side. Oh, shit. "This is why you are so upset, no?"

I blink. "No."

Julia closes her eyes and takes a tiny, somewhat threatening, breath. "I swear to all the gods, Kiara, if you lie to me one more time, I will cut you in your sleep."

My jaw drops. "I?—"

Her eyes flutter open, a hint of humor flashing in her dark irises. "Talk to me, cara." She pauses, cringing. "Not too much detail though."

Fuck it. Maybe she can shine some light on the psyche of Emilio Di Vaio. I sure as hell don't have a clue.

After rambling for thirty minutes, I take a deep breath, my throat dry. Damn, she's a good listener. Too good. If I didn't need a sip of water, I wouldn't have stopped talking.

"So?" I chug back the San Pellegrino, parched from talking. "Thoughts?"

Julia hums, crossing her legs, her gaze pensive, thoughtful, as she mulls over the details. "What is it that you want from my brother? It seems as though both of you are unwilling to define your relationship."

"What?" I choke out. "Relationship? We don't have a relationship. We're just—" I bite my lip. "We're just...having sex?"

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