Romans & histoires Sinister 2 Milo

Her slightly sagging chin had been forced down by her jaw hung open and the whites in her eyes had been widened to take in the man standing before her. It almost seemed as if she recognized him… “Do you two know each other?” I couldn’t help but ask at the suspicious way that she had been looking at the smirking pervert beside me. Snapping out of her thoughts Maurice turned to look at me as if I had been a ghost and staggering back with her heavy body she stammered out something which I was trying to understand when Alfeo took my face by the chin, his slender finger cold against my skin, “Don’t be ridiculous Silia, who doesn’t know me? I am the famous consigliere of Mafia Calix.”

They would meet their deaths at the hands of the Siren sisters. She looked over to Alex, her red eyes had darkened to an almost black and her canines were protruding from her mouth, piercing her lips, she gave Thea a silent nod in agreement. Following the de-branding ritual, the power binding spell definitely paled in comparison though, it was a welcomed change. Neither Thea, nor Penny or Alex could’ve witnessed Lissa in that much pain again. They all sat huddled on the sofas as they sipped their tea. Penny has made the most fragrant combination she could think of in an attempt to disguise the smell of burnt flesh.

“Everyone knows, Sept tour is the exclusive home of the Mafia King and Lord. Ciro Conti,” She looked at me like I had grown three heads, “And who do you think brought you back?” She raised a brow. “Impossible” I stuttered, my brain short circuited. A face flashed into my memory, hitting like a tidal, that slow upward curve of those devilish lips, those jaws, those reddish eyes that felt like they were peering right into my soul. I stumbled back, two words ringing repeatedly in my head, “I'm dead.” I muttered.

Milo lit a cigarette with his hands shaking. “This isn’t some petty vendetta,” he said. “This is big. Someone’s pulling strings, and they’ve been doing it for years”. I leaned against the wall, feeling the weight of it all. My plan had always been revenge, expose Damien, make him pay. But now… what if he wasn’t the monster? What if he was the pawn? Milo handed me a copy of the extracted data on a separate drive. “Take this”, he said. “But be careful. Whatever this Viper wants, it doesn’t end with Crest. It ends with a body count”.

“Now.” Milo’s eyes darkened, and he let out a low, dangerous laugh. “Or what?” he taunted. “What are you two going to do? Fight me?” His amusement twisted into something more sinister. He advanced on us, and Genevieve braced herself, standing her ground.

~Milo~ Panic coursed through Milo’s body when he woke up to find himself surrounded by a group of strangers in blue uniforms and white coats. One was even drawing blood from his leg. "I'm done being poked and prodded for their sick experiments," he growled, shaking away the fear. In a fit of rage, he knocked people into walls with a growl he’s never heard himself make before. “She’s coming up,” someone called through the chaos from behind him as bodies moved to block the exit and windows.

This was the very Milo who ranked first among the ten toughest people! He was the leader of Firebrand Base, a man who was said to have reduced his own base down to nothing but the last few survivors. When he heard Liam's voice, the man in the mask reached up and pulled off the black face cover. A tan, sun-darkened face appeared. Milo's face was lean, with a hint of foreign blood. His features were sharp and rugged, his brows heavy, his nose high and straight, and his eyes a clear amber color. Everything about him looked hard and unbreakable.

I rub the scruff on my chin and squint my eye, a little suspect of the connection between all these women. A comfortable silence blankets the room until Milo stands up. He has a mischievous glint in his eye, “I got it.”

“I’m guessing you know what a High Sorcerer—” “I know what it is,” he says. He swallows hard. “My father was one.” “Oh?” “Listen,” Milo says. He looks me in the eyes. “I’m going to be very honest with you here.” “Okay?” “I am not someone you want as an enemy.” “I don’t really want any enemies.” “I mean it,” he says. “If anything happens to Lyra, you’re going to wish you had never been born. I can be ruthless. And when someone wrongs me, I never, ever forget it.”