Page 141 of Milo

"What? You?"

"Yes!" I shake my head. God, he's dim. "That's where all of this is leading. You don't see it? Really? Other than me, who else is technically new? Hmm? She's trying to put a wedge between us, Milo. How can you not see that?"

"Tesoro," Milo hums, taking my hand. "In the last few months, we have had three new members join our organization, it is not only you." He runs his thumb across my knuckles. "I trust you, Kiara. I know you are not the mole."

I close my eyes, his touch relaxing my stiff muscles. "I'm glad that you trust me, Milo, I really am but what about the others? They don't know me like you do. They have no reason to trust me."

"Baby—" Milo cups my cheeks, placing a soft kiss on my lips. "They will trust whoever I tell them to trust."

"Why are you so quick to believe her?" I rest my forehead against his. "For all we know, she's the fucking mole."

"Do not worry, Kiara. We will not tell her anything. I might believe her, but I do not trust her." He kisses my nose. "Not like I trust you."

"Fine," I grumble, sucking in a deep breath. He's not budging. "Well, what's your plan then? What are you going to do?"

"I will have to re-run background checks on the new recruits, track their movements and calls for the last few months." Milo sighs apologetically. “I am sorry today has turned into such a disaster."

"Yeah…” I fiddle with my Nana's locket as I admire my engagement ring. "So much for a celebration."

"We will celebrate, tesoro.” Milo pulls me against his chest, his chin resting on my head. "Once this is all over." He kisses my forehead. "Go downstairs, Kiara, try to enjoy the rest of the day. Please? Your Christmas does not need to be ruined. It is salvageable."

"Yeah, whatever.” I pull away from Milo, my head throbbing, my body weak from stress. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."

"I love you, Kiara," Milo says, squeezing my hand. "Remember that."

I force a smile. "I love you too, Milo."

He turns around reaching for the door handle. "I'll come find you soon, yes?"

"Mhmm.”

If he wants proof, then I'll just have to find it.

How? No fucking idea.

"Cara!" Julia leaps off the couch and runs up to me. She grabs my hand and lets out an excited shriek. "Look at this rock! Holy fucking shit! It's bigger than mine!"

I stifle a yawn. "It's a bit extra.”

"Come sit, Kiara, you look exhausted." Luisa pats the seat beside her, a sympathetic smile on her face. I sit down between my two friends. "How are you feeling? It is crazy, no? I cannot believe she is alive."

"It is horrible," Julia says, passing me a glass of wine. "But at least she is safe now."

"I'm good." I shake my head, pouring myself a glass of sparkling grape juice. Alcohol and headaches don't mix. I purse my lips. "So, you believe her? That she was held captive all those months?"

Luisa frowns, taking a bite of a cream-filled pastry. "Of course, who would lie about something like that?"

I scoff. "Vittoria."

Julia blinks. "You don't believe her? Why?"

"Because her story doesn't make sense, because I can see it in her eyes, her lips, her body language. She's lying, Jules. I know she is."

"Kiara—" Julia places her hand on my thigh. "Everyone reacts to trauma in different ways, just because she is not presenting the typical signs of abuse does not mean she is lying. We must believe her." A little grin appears on her face as if she's trying to lighten the mood. "I thought you were a feminist, cara."

"I am!" I exclaim, irritation spiking in my tone. "But just because I'm a feminist doesn't mean I have to blindly trust all women, especially not Vittoria who is acting her little ass off upstairs saying that there's a fucking mole here."

"What?" Luisa gasps, her mouth hanging open. "She said there is a mole?"

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