Page 43 of Milo

Milo closes his eyes, his body language stiff, annoyed. "I was not?—"

"Enough from you,” Julia says, waving him off. Milo reluctantly stops talking. Fuck Cleopatra. Next time I'll channel Julia. "I'd like to learn more about Kiara. Milo said you speak seven languages, yes?"

"Mhmm."

"Fascinating," Julia gawks, resting her chin on her palm as she leans over her crossed legs. "And you're how old?"

"Twenty-three.”

Julia pouts. "So young." She tilts her head to her husband. "Do you remember when I was that young? Do you miss it?"

"Oh, I remember.” Paolo wiggles his groomed brows. "But you are like wine, baby, every year more delicious."

Julia tosses her husband a flirty wink. "Ti amo, Paolo. You are too sweet."

"How did the two of you meet?" Maybe they'll be more forthcoming than my brooding travel companion.

Paolo sets his drink on the oval woven table. "We met when we were kids, our families they—" He mulls it over. "Worked together."

Julia clicks her tongue, expelling a scoff. "She is a smart girl, Paolo, she knows what that means. Just say it for fuck sakes."

"Milo?" Paolo asks. "Do we trust her?"

"No.” Milo shifts his body, draping his arm over the sofa, the taut muscles under his dress shirt flexing as he stretches. He licks his lips, his gaze combative. "But I suppose there is no harm in telling her the history of Santi Oscuri."

Progress. I'll take it.

"If you say so," Paolo hums, uncertainty dancing around his features.

I listen attentively as Paolo discloses how Santi Oscuri came to be. Apparently, in the '70s Italy was primarily ruled by two mafias, the Di Vaio family and the Casellati family. After decades of bloodshed, wars, and deaths, the two Dons, Milo and Paolo's fathers grew tired of the feud and agreed to blend the families, ensuring total domination over the entire country.

With caveats. Obviously.

"So, you were forced to marry each other?" I ask, sipping on my second cocktail. "And you were okay with that?"

"Of course not!" Julia says. "I was furious with papa when he told me. Sergio, our brother—" She pauses, swallowing as Milo tenses beside me and winces at the sound of his deceased brother's name. "He um... he was supposed to wed the oldest Casellati daughter, but she got pregnant from another man and the entire arrangement fell apart."

"I only have one sister," Paolo elaborates. "When that didn't work out, well—here we are."

I purse my lips, processing all this new information. They were forced to marry yet...

"But you seem so happy together.”

"It took time, Kiara," Julia says. “We had to learn to love each other and set limits."

"Limits?"

"Yes," Julia says, downing her drink. "For example, Paolo and I do not ever talk business. Ever. It's not allowed."

I blink. "You don't?"

"No, I don't want to know all that crazy shit," Julia says. "It causes me a headache."

"Don't you get curious?" I ask, thinking out loud.

Julia shrugs. "No, I don't care. Paolo and I, we do three things."

"Julia..." Milo hums, his voice strained, pleading. "Please."

---