40. The Light Inside

Chapter 40

The Light Inside

"Kiara, slow down," Milo calls out after me as I rush up the unlit walkway toward the black SUV idling on the street. "Kiara, be careful!" I stop at the top of the bridge, waiting for him to catch up. Milo grabs my shaking hands, scanning my face. "You're hurt, you need to slow down."

"I'm fine," I say in a trembling tone, my eyes welling up. "I just want to get home, slap Vittoria, and go to sleep." A flood of tears roll down my face. Holy shit, what is happening to me? I wipe away the tears, wincing as I accidentally touch the wound on my cheek. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying, I'm okay, really. I don't know?—"

"Shh, it's okay," he whispers, pulling me against his chest, his fingers gripping the back of my head. "I am so sorry, tesoro. This is all my fault. I should have never doubted you; I should have believed you."

"I had no proof," I sniffle, fisting the sides of his jacket, my body unable to pick a fucking mood. "I get it, Milo. You were just trying to be cautious; you were trying to?—"

"No," he hums into my hair, his arms tightening around me. "There is no excuse. I was wrong and I was almost too late. If I came just a minute later—" His jaw clenches. "I cannot say it."

I'd be dead.

"How—how did you know where I was?" I take a deep breath and pray that my body powers down. I peer up at him through damp lashes. "Are there sensors on the boat or something? You pointed to the cameras."

"No, Marchello disabled the sensors and the cameras. I only turned them back on when I saw your location." Milo brushes a piece of hair away from my face, the strand sticking to the drying blood on my cheek. "Fucking hell, Kiara, you might need stitches. We must see Aldo first before anything else."

I frown. "What do you mean you saw my location? I don't have a phone with me."

He swallows, his weary gaze fluttering down to my Nana's necklace.

"What?" I look down and open the locket, a tiny red flashing light shining through my nana's photo. Oh, God. "Seriously? You put a tracking device in here? Milo!"

"I did it to protect you, Kiara," he says, his voice faint, timid. "To keep you safe." He pauses, taking a breath. "I tried calling you again earlier, but your phone went to voicemail, and I knew something was wrong." He runs the tip on his index finger across the locket. "For this, I am not sorry. I'm not."

"Although I don't appreciate being tagged like some animal, I suppose I can't really be mad, it's served its purpose.'' I expel a deep sigh, twisting the necklace between my fingers. "Good thing I didn't take it off and wear your mom's necklace. I'd probably be fish food by now."

"Kiara— "

"Can we please go?" I open the car door and hop inside, pain thudding in the back of my skull. "My head hurts."

"Of course." Milo slides in beside me, reaching for my hand. He hesitates for a moment before whispering, "Kiara, I appreciate your loyalty to me, but you should have taken the money."

"What?"

"The money Marchello was offering." His hand dwarfs mine as I rest against his shoulder, crisp air blowing through the cracked windows. "You should have taken it. I am not worth dying over."

"Yeah? Would you have taken the money?" My heart rate slows down as I glance up at Milo. "If the roles were reversed, what would you have done?" He doesn't respond, avoiding eye contact. "That's what I thought."

"It is different…" He looks out of the window at the bright full moon. "Your life is more precious than mine, Kiara. You are more worthy of life. I would die a thousand deaths if it meant you'd be able to live just one."

I can see it. An intricate woven chain. One end is wrapped around his heart, the other around mine. We're tethered. Bound together by fate, by destiny, by the blessings of angels. We're connected in a way that defies death, defies circumstance, defies logic.

"It doesn't work like that anymore," I whisper, shaking my head as I take in his solemn features. "I love you, Milo. Your life is my life, so I forbid you to die, do you understand? You have to promise me that you will never leave me. That you will stay with me until it's our time to go, no sooner."

"I would never dream of leaving you." He hesitates for a second before arching down and giving me a soft, heavenly kiss. " Sei la cosa più bella che mi sia mai capitata . Ti amo, Kiara ." He brushes his thumb across my lips. "You are my light, tesoro, without you, I would be lost."

"I've felt lost my whole life, Milo, and when I'm with you, it finally feels like I'm home," I say, caressing his stubbled cheek. "You have more light inside of you than you think." I smile, losing myself in his earthy eyes. " The devil is not as black as he is painted."

"Do you truly believe that Kiara?" He leans into my palm. "The things I have done—" He sighs. "I am not sure how much light remains."

"The dichotomy between light and darkness, it's—it's dynamic, Milo, it changes, it's not stagnant. Every day one might outshine the other, but you'll always have both, always ."

He smiles, lacing his hands through my hair as he kisses my forehead. "Your father would be very proud of you, Kiara. You are a philosopher in the making."

"I stabbed one man to death and shot another all in the course of thirty-six hours," I murmur, resting my head on his shoulder. "I'm not so sure he'd be proud of me right now."

"He would understand, tesoro. He would."

"Maybe." I close my eyes, letting out a grunt. "Shit, I probably shouldn't have shot Marchello. That was an impulsive and rash decision. He knows too much, what if he?—"

Milo's body tenses as he begrudgingly states, "He won't. Marchello has proven to be a great disappointment and I'd like nothing more than to kill him, but he has always held Santi Oscuri above all else. I do not believe he will betray the family. You were right to stop me, Kiara. There would have been severe consequences if I had killed him."

"I'm sorry," I whisper. "I know how much you trusted him. "

"It wasn't personal," Milo says in a strained tone. "This was business. It's always business."

"Still—" I crane my neck up. "He hurt you, you're allowed to feel that."

"According to Marchello, I am not allowed to feel anything. Or else I risk destroying our legacy."

"I think that depends on what kind of legacy you want to leave behind. Marchello's version of the future doesn't have to be yours. He wants world domination, which is unrealistic and dangerous. The future lies in your hands, Milo. What do you want to be remembered by?"

Milo stays quiet, gazing out the window for several comfortable moments of much-needed silence.

"I want to conquer Europe," he finally says. "That will be my legacy."

I manage a small laugh. "Europe's still really big, baby."

He faces me, a smirk creeping up on his face. "But it's smaller than the world."

I roll my eyes, my temples instantly pulsing. "Taking control of fifty countries in your lifetime will be impossible. How do you plan on doing that?"

"What you meant to say is, how do we plan on doing that," Milo counters with a grin. "And easy—" He cocks his head. "One country at a time." The car stops in front of the estate. "We can discuss this later, right now, you need to see a doctor."

"No," I say, climbing out of the car. "I need to see Vittoria."

"Kiara, please, she is not going anywhere. First a doctor, you could have a concussion," Milo pleads, placing his hand on the small of my back as we enter the house. It's quiet. Everyone must be sleeping. I ignore him, heading to her room. "Kiara?— "

"I'll be quick," I say, pausing at the top of the staircase. I need a plan. Strategy. Stability. Damage control. "Who knows about this? About Marchello? Obviously Gio and Mateo, anyone else? Paolo? Luisa?"

"No, I didn't have time to tell them," Milo says. "Why? What are you thinking?"

"I think we need to keep this quiet for a while," I whisper, biting my lip. "The fewer people that know the better."

"They will ask questions, Kiara. They will wonder why Marchello is not by my side. It will lead to speculation. We need to be honest."

I purse my lips. "He's injured right now. Unfit for duty. We can go with that."

"It's just a gunshot, Kiara. A scratch. He can still function."

"Then break his fucking legs," I say dryly, eyeing Vittoria's door. "We can't risk the other families finding out about this, Milo. We can't. We'll have to tell everyone that Vittoria was the mole and that we killed her after catching her talking to Igor or something. We can put Marchello on desk duty. It's not ideal but it'll have to do."

" Break his legs ?" A low chuckle tumbles from Milo's lips. "Who are you?"

"Your future wife," I say, crossing my arms. "So, what do you think? Will it work?"

Milo sucks in a long breath. "Only one way to find out." He nods at the door. "She's all yours."

"Excellent." I turn on my heel and enter Vittoria's bedroom, flicking on the lights. "Wake up!"

"What the fuck?" Vittoria grumbles, jerking upright. Her face pales as her gaze darts between me and Milo. "What—what do you want?" She pauses, cringing. "Dio, what happened to your face? "

"What do you think?" I walk toward her, my head spinning. "I gave you the chance to tell me the truth, Vittoria, yet you continued to lie. That was a mistake. Do you remember what I said would happen when I found out the truth? Hmm?"

She swallows looking at Milo. "You—you know?"

"Yes." I glare down at her. "We know about the cheating, the money, Dubai. We know you came back because Marchello paid you." I shake my head. "It takes a very special type of person to lie about being raped, Vittoria. It's disgusting and you should be ashamed of yourself."

"He would have killed me if I didn't take the money. I didn't want to die—" Her bottom lip quivers. "And I didn't want to come back! I didn't! I was happy in Dubai, I met a nice man, I—" She wails into the comforter. "But Marchello, he said he would kill my sister if I didn't return and say all those horrible things. I didn't want to, believe me." She peers up at Milo. "I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't?—"

"Actions have consequences, Vittoria," I say, catching a glimpse of Milo, his expression neutral, unaffected. Whatever fraction of his heart she was holding hostage is now free. Good.

"I know," she whimpers, shame flashing across her face. "I know that! I think about it all the time, okay? I made a mistake. Please don't kill me! Please."

"This is what's going to happen. You are going to leave tonight. You are going to go back to Dubai, and you will never come back to Italy." I pause, pursing my lips. "Have you called your sister yet? I know you were not talking to her last night."

"No," she whispers, sniffling. "I didn't think it would be safe. "

"Good. You will never contact her again. She will continue to think you are dead."

"But—"

I shoot her a glare and she stops talking. "You will forget about this life, about Milo, about Santi Oscuri. Do you understand?"

She blinks. "You're not going to kill me?"

"No, I'm not going to kill you. Not today at least," I say, shaking off the sudden onset of fatigue. "But if we ever find out that you have opened your mouth about this to anyone, we will kill you and your new boyfriend and his entire family and your sister." I tilt my head as her eyes widen with terror. I glance at the clock. "You have ten minutes to get ready and then Gio will drive you to the airport. You will take the jet back to Dubai and never come back. Is that clear?"

She nods. "Yes."

"Good." I glance over at Milo. "Anything you'd like to add?" He shakes his head. "Okay." I turn to Vittoria. "Get dressed."

"Thank you," she mumbles.

Without another word, I exit her room, feeling lightheaded. Milo closes the door behind us. "I am surprised you are letting her live," he whispers as we walk down the hall. "Are you sure that is wise?"

"I feel bad for her," I say, dancing black spots infiltrating my vision as we reach the staircase. "She was just a—just a pawn. Plus, umm...I think that living in a state of constant fear is worse than uh—worse than death." I grab the railing, steadying myself as my head spins. "It's the—" I blink, my knees giving out. "The uh?—"

"Kiara!"