Page 97 of Milo

Milo closes his eyes, the crackling of the cherry burning filling the silence. "No, I am not."

"Well, at least we're on the same page.” I let out a deep sigh. "Listen, you've been acting weird all night. Is it because of the necklace? I'm sorry for putting it on but I didn't know?—"

"I know," he whispers, clenching his teeth. "You did nothing wrong, tesoro. I just—" He freezes as a gorgeous server with caramel-colored hair and a scowl on her face approaches us, a tray of champagne flutes in hand. "Cazzo."

"Mr. Di Vaio," she slews in Italian, her judgmental gaze darting between the two of us. Her eyes linger on the jacket wrapped around my shoulders for a second too long before she continues. "It's been a while. How are you?"

"Catarina," Milo says, the muscles in his neck tensing. "I was not aware you would be working tonight."

"This evening is full of surprises," she says, glancing at me, disgust written all over her face. "Who is your friend?"

"This is Kiara," Milo replies in Italian. "She's from America."

I smile, swallowing away the bitter taste in my mouth. The show must go on.

Catarina lets out a curt scoff. "So soon? Have you already forgotten the last one?"

Who the fuck is this woman?

"Be very careful with your words, Catarina." Milo takes a purposeful step forward, towering over the petite brunette. "Remember who you are talking to."

Her jaw clenches. "I know exactly who you are, Milo. You are the angel of death. I am reminded of that fact every time I pass my sister's empty room."

"You should leave," Milo states, his expression darkening. "Before you say something you might regret."

Catarina takes a step back, turning her head toward me. "If you value your life," she says in English, “you will run. Fast. And never look back."

"Catarina!" Milo fumes. "Do not?—"

"Have a good night," she cuts him off, turning on her heel and disappearing through the balcony doors.

I blink, taking in her ominous warning. "Who was that?"

Is that the owner of the necklace? An ex-girlfriend? She mentioned a sister? What sister? What happened? I'm so lost.

"Milo?"

Sixty excruciating seconds of silence hang in the air as Milo stays muted, staring out into the glowing cityscape. I chew on my bottom lip, trepidation bubbling inside my esophagus, making me ill, nauseous, scared.

"She is right," Milo finally whispers, running a hand through his hair as he turns away from me. "You should run. I will make sure you are protected wherever you go."

"Is that what you want?" My heart drops into a deep pit of panic. "You want me to leave?"

"Yes."

"Liar." I bite the inside of my cheek, my eyes glossing over. "You don't mean that."

With his back turned to me, he states, "I no longer require your services. Leave, Kiara. It is the smart thing to do."

"Who was she?" I don’t budge, planting my heels firm on the ground. "Talk to me."

"A reminder that nothing good ever lasts," Milo whispers, still refusing to look at me. “Go. You are free now."

"No."

"Kiara, pleas?—"

Pop!

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