Milo

30. A Fight Against Fate

Chapter 30

A Fight Against Fate

Trust.

It can take weeks, months, years to build trust. Trust is fragile. Like a flower. A beautiful rose bed. If you take good care of it, it flourishes, grows, survives. But if you don't, if you fuck up, if you grow that fucking flower in soil that's infested with lies and deception and betrayal then it dies. It's destroyed. And it's damn near impossible to grow anything healthy in that fucking soil ever again.

"You lying piece of shit!" I storm into the dining room, my vibrating gaze narrowed in on Milo. "I can't believe I fucking trusted you!"

"Kiara?" Milo twists his neck toward me as he abruptly stands up, his face plastered with confusion. "What is wrong? What happened?" He pauses, looking down at my feet. "You're bleeding."

"He's alive?!" I cry, incredulity searing through my goddamn veins. "He's fucking alive ?!"

"Wha—"

"Signor Di Vaio! I am so sorry!" Teresa calls out, running up behind me, panting to catch her elderly breath. "She saw him. She uh—she followed me. I tried to stop her but I?—"

All the color drains from Milo's face. He knew. He fucking knew. Of course, he knew. This makes so much sense. The bruises on his knuckles. Why he was gone for hours on end but never left the estate. Oh my God. The sparrow. Andre was the fucking sparrow?!

"Kiara, please?—"

"You fucking asshole!" I yell, every single one of my nerve endings buzzing with betrayal. "This whole time?! He was alive this whole time?! What the fuck is wrong with you?!"

"Do not talk to him like that!" Marchello slams his hand on the dining room table. "Know your place!"

"Shut up!" Milo snaps his head toward his underboss. Julia and Paolo's gaze darts between the two of us. "Everyone leave," he commands. " Now ." He peers over my shoulder at Teresa, his jaw clenching. "Please bring some antiseptic and bandages for Kiara's feet."

"No," I fume, shaking my head, angry tears on the verge of spilling. "You can all stay. I'll leave." I turn around, the pain from the shards of glass lodged in my feet incomparable to the pain in my stupid, naive heart. "I should've left long ago!"

I need to get out of here. I need to leave. I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I fell for him. I can't believe I let myself fall for him. This is what happens when you fall. You crash and burn and get your fucking heart broken. Smashed. Shattered. Stepped on and trampled.

"Kiara—" Milo jolts toward me, grabbing my hand. "Please, I can explain."

"Don't you dare touch me!" I yank my arm away, heading down the hallway to the staircase. "Leave me alone."

"No," Milo says, his tone raw, trembling as he follows behind me. "I will not."

"Go away.” I march up the stairs and into my bedroom. "I don't want to be near you. I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to fucking look at you." I throw my high heels on my bed and walk to the closet, pulling out a suitcase.

"What are you doing, Kiara?" Milo runs a frantic hand through his hair as I scoop piles of clothes from my dresser and throw them into the luggage set. "Kiara, stop!"

"Fuck off." I scramble around the room looking for more shit to pack. "I'm leaving." A maniacal laugh spills from my lips as I shove shirts into the carry-on. "Seeing as I didn't actually kill Igor's cousin, I'll take my chances with the Russians. Maybe they'll spare me!"

"Kiara, please! Stop and listen to me for fuck's sake!" Milo takes two strides toward me and coils his fingers around my arm. "Look at me." I don't move. "Kiara!"

"No!" I clench my teeth. "I can't look at you." My hands ball up into fists. "It hurts too much to fucking look at you! You lied to me! He—he was dead. I swear he was dead. I shot him! I thought—" Tears roll down my face. "I thought I killed him. You lied to me! Why would you do that? Why wouldn't you tell me? Why?—"

"Kiara," Milo whispers, cupping my face as he tilts my head up. His thumb brushes away the tears, his touch so fucking soft, so delicate, so frustratingly tender. "I did not lie to you?—"

"What?" I seethe, smacking his arm away, my eyes expanding with dis-fucking-belief. "You didn't lie to me? How can you say that? I saw him, Milo! He's alive! "

"I never said that you killed him.” Regret flashes across his face. "I never?—"

I blink. "Seriously? You never said I killed him? What—" I shake my head, losing my fucking mind. "You also didn't tell me that he's alive or that you have him locked up, downstairs, in a fucking dungeon! He was here the whole time! That is so fucked up! You made me think I killed someone, Milo! That I took a life, that—" I pause. "Oh, my God. That police report you showed me, is it even real? Or was that just some sick way of making me feel better? Huh?"

"Of course, it is real," Milo says, almost like he's offended. That's rich. "Everything I told you about him is the truth."

"Except for the fact that he's alive," I snap, turning my attention back to packing the suitcase. "You're unbelievable." I drop the blouse from my hand, whipping my head toward him. "Why? Why didn't you tell me? No, not even why, but how? How the fuck is he alive? I shot him. I saw the bullet enter his chest! I saw him bleeding out in the fucking parking lot. How? And why is he downstairs? What the fuck, Milo?!"

"When you shot him, you did not kill him. He had a pulse, it was very faint," Milo explains in a hushed tone as my entire body buzzes with livid rage. "But he was going to die. He was minutes from death but?—"

"But what?"

"I was going to let him die.” He winces. "But I—I changed my mind. I decided that it would be better to save him, to use his knowledge in order to end this fucking war. And it worked, we are so close to winning, Kiara. It's almost over."

"So, you healed him just to torture him?" I ask, a bitter taste coating my tongue. "Milo, you made me think that I was a murderer. You—" I let out a shaky breath. "You saw how his death affected me and you still didn't tell me? Why? You said you trusted me, you said?—"

"I wanted to tell you, tesoro. I did but I was advised against it. You are not the only one who does not know. Only five people are aware that Andre is not dead. I couldn't risk it. I couldn't?—"

"Risk what? Who the fuck was I going to tell? I have no one to tell! You fucked up, Milo. You—you broke my trust. You broke us . I can't stay here. I can't be around you anymore. I need to leave."

The sharp edge of Milo's jaw twitches. "You are not leaving, Kiara!"

"Watch me!"

"No!" Milo grabs my shoulder, spinning me around. “You are not going anywhere, Kiara. You cannot leave me. You?—"

"Don't touch me!” I push on his chest. "You said you trusted me! That you cared about me! But you lied to me! You don't get to touch me anymore."

A blaze flickers in his dark irises. "I do care about you! I fucking love you!"

For a millisecond, the world stops, the gravity of his proclamation making my heart flutter with glee. But then the millisecond passes, and the glee morphs back into anger. A hurt, agonizing rage.

My jaw clenches as I slap Milo across the face.

"Love me? You love me?! Are you fucking kidding me? How can you say that? After all of this shit? If this is the way you show love, then I don't fucking want it! It doesn't change the fact that you lied to me!"

"For fuck's sake! Not everything is about you , Kiara!" Milo shouts, his booming voice sending a shudder down my spine. "It is not about you or me or us, it is about everyone else! This feud with the Russians transcends our relationship. I am responsible for so many fucking lives! They are my responsibility. Mine! So yes, I listened to Marchello when he told me not to tell you, because my brother, who is dead now, did not listen to advice. Ever. You can say that I lied to you or that I broke your trust, but I did what I had to do to ensure that my family would be safe, that we would remain in power, that no one else would fucking die!" He takes a ragged breath, closing his eyes as he adds in a softened tone, "Put yourself in my shoes, tesoro, try to understand. Please."

"I understand." I nod my head, biting the inside of my cheek. "Your loyalties lie with your family, with Santi Oscuri. Not with me. I get it."

"No—"

"Milo!" Marchello calls out, barging into my bedroom. "I need you downstairs. They are asking questions." He glares at me. "Deal with her later."

" Her ?" I expel a low, defeated chuckle. "See? This would never work, Milo. I will never have respect in this house. I will never be one of you. I'll always be an outsider, always." My eyes well up with tears. "Sometimes love isn't enough."

Love isn't a cure. It's a disease. It's a sickness. It hurts. It kills. It's painful.

So fucking painful.

"You want respect? Is that what you want, tesoro?" Milo stalks toward me, his intense gaze packed with determination and resolve. He nods his head, scanning my face. "Alright, I will give it to you."

I blink. "What?—"

"Marry me.” He combs his fingers through my hair, my knees weakening, my brain on the verge of complete shutdown. "Be my wife."

"Emilio!" Marchello barks, his lip twitching, his face red. "What are you doing?! Have you lost your fucking mind? She is a nobody! She is?—"

"Enough!" Milo turns around, reaching for the Beretta that's tucked into the back of his pants. He points it directly at Marchello. I cover my mouth, letting out a frightened gasp. "Leave, right now or I will put a bullet between your fucking eyes."

"Oh my God, Milo, stop.” I tug on his arm. Is he insane?! "Stop!"

"Emotions are dangerous, my boy," Marchello states, his gaze darting toward me. "Remember that."

"Get the fuck out of Kiara's bedroom.” Milo readjusts his grip on the pistol. "I will not ask you again."

"Fine." Marchello swallows, a tight-lipped smile on his aged face. "I am leaving. We will talk later when you have calmed down."

Milo's features harden. "Do not provoke me, Marchello. Remember who is in charge. Leave."

Without another word, Marchello turns around and storms out of the room. When he's out of sight, Milo lowers his gun, staggering to the edge of my bed. He sits down, burying his face in his palms, his fingers rigid, tense.

"Marry me," he whispers, his tone hoarse, husky, heartbreakingly pleading. "Marry me, Kiara. I promise to never lie to you again. I will give you everything. I will give you the world. I will give you the fucking universe and all of its stars. Please, do not leave me."

"You're crazy…” I take a seat next to him, my pulse racing, my heart so goddamn conflicted. "You're fucking crazy."

"I love you," he whispers. "I am crazy because I love you." Taking a deep breath, he lifts his head up, his eyes red, glossy, full of emotion. "I am sorry, tesoro. I have failed you. I said I would stop your tears and yet you cry because of me."

"You hurt me. You broke my trust."

"I know," he breathes, dwarfing my fiddling hands. His touch is like a drug, a sedative, forcing my mind to slow down. To relax. To hear his words. Really hear them. For the first time. "I will never do it again." His thumb caresses the underside of my wrist. "I will dedicate my whole life to rebuilding that trust. I will make it whole, Kiara. I promise you that."

I stay silent, unable to respond.

Our relationship has grown on tainted soil. Everything that's sprouted, blossomed, flowered is covered in lies and deceit. And yet, when I look at his fucking face, it's still beautiful. It's the same face that fills my dreams. The same face that's stamped on my heart, my mind, my soul. But stamps fade. They're not permanent.

They don't last forever.

"Say yes," Milo whispers, interrupting my reverie as he leans his forehead against mine, his sweet breath fanning against my lips. "Be my wife, tesoro. Let me love you under God."

I close my eyes, my breath hitching. "Do you believe in God?"

"Yes.” He cups the side of my face, his thumb grazing the damp apples of my cheeks. "He brought you to me. He brought me an angel."

"Sometimes God is cruel. He gives us things just to take them away. "

"I will not let you go, Kiara. I will fight fate to keep you with me."

"People can't fight fate, Milo. That's why it's called fate."

"People can’t. I can."

"You're not God."

"No, but I am a man in love.” He kisses my knuckles. "And a man in love is just as powerful as any God."

This is all too much. Too fast. Too soon. Too overwhelming. I'm so tired. So fucking confused.

"I think you should leave.” I bite my lip to stop myself from crying. "I need some time to think. I need?—"

"You do not need to give me an answer right now.” He stands up and runs a hand through his hair. "But soon, tesoro. I need it soon."

"What if I say no?" I peer up at him through damp lashes. "Will you let me leave?"

"You will say yes. I know you will say yes."

"Kiara!" Julia's voice cuts through the charged air. "Can I come in?"

"Yes," I call out, needing this conversation to end. I look at Milo, at his eyes, lips, nose. God, he's perfect. A perfect lie. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Good night, tesoro.” Milo sighs, giving his sister a weak smile on his way out.

Julia holds up a bottle of rubbing alcohol and some gauze. She looks down at my feet. "Are you still bleeding?"

"What?" I scan the dried blood on my heels and toes. "Oh, God. I didn't even feel it."

Julia sits on my bed, hiking my foot up on her lap as she administers first aid. "How are you feeling, cara? Are you okay? I—I did not know about Andre, I promise, I would have told you if I did."

"I know," I hum, wincing as she pads the cuts. "Jules?"

"Yes?"

"Milo, he uh—" I bite my lip. "He just asked me to marry him."

Julia freezes. "He what?"

"Yeah."

"Just now? Oh fuck, he is an idiot, truly," Julia grunts. "What was he thinking?"

"He's not very good at timing things, is he? I don't know what to do, Julia. What do I do?"

"That depends, cara. Do you love him?"

Is love enough?