Belladonna and Milo deleted scene (Patreon)

A/N This is a scene from book 1 that I had written but ultimately didn't put in. It does add a bit of context to how Bella might have known about Milo, however.

Belladonna spritzed the room with night jasamine, dimming the lanterns and making sure the silk sheets were enticingly rumpled. Decadence was her biggest seller when she had new clients. If she could show them the world they were missing, the life that they craved, then she could keep them coming back for more. Sex was only a bonus for a Malady client. It was a little known secret about her job. While the sex was what patrons cited as the reason they were here, it was never why they continued to come back. Most needed to come back to her so they could feel someone run their fingers through their hair and tell them what a good job they were doing. How perfect they were. Then there were the slight few that needed to be punished and couldn’t get what they needed at a confessional. Bella liked those clients the best.

Arranging herself on the bed, she tossed her hair over her shoulder, dipping her chin just a bit so she could look at the door with those sultry eyes. First impressions were everything. She could hear the telling sounds of footsteps coming down the short hall and one of her lights blinked as the front room signaled her that a client was on the way. Sticking out her chest, she pulled the black lace of her negligee up so it ghosted the top of her creamy thighs, and wet her lips.

When the door opened, however, she rolled from the bed in one fluid motion, thinking of all the ways she was going to get Natalie at the front desk fired.

“Absolutely not.” She grabbed her long robe, pulling it around her shoulders and tying the sash tight.

Milo Next shut the door behind him, hands up in the air. “I’m not here for that,” he told her. His eyes couldn’t help but flicker over her form. Who could blame him. “I mean, not unless you want to.”

She stood only a few feet from him, fingers curled against her hips in an effort to keep from lunging at him and tearing the freckles from his face. “I would rather chop you into pieces and feed you to a group of rabid pixies,” she told him. “Get out.”

“Belladonna….”

“Ms. Malady, to you. Belladonna is the name my clients earn.” It wasn’t. Most called her Belladonna. But control with Milo Next was key.

“I just need to talk.”

“Talk?” she laughed. “That’s not one of your strong suits. I find that highly unlikely.”

“Please?”

She narrowed her eyes at him. His clothes were rumpled and his hair was a bit longer than the last time she had seen him. Unkept in a way that was unusual even for him. “Didn’t I put you on a list?” she asked. She had at least two dozen clients that she explicitly told the front desk not to let in. They were not to be assigned to her no matter the depth of their pockets.

“I got someone else to pretend to be me and then I snuck in when they got through. Your security here is awful.” He shifted back and forth, biting at his lip. Belladonna normally felt sorry for men like him. Emotionally constipated and unaware of just how much their childhood has held them back through the years. They were her most lucrative clients in the end because she just needed to lay in bed and hold them through emotional revelations. Milo was poor however and even if she was into charity cases she thought the idea of coaching him through a mental breakdown was enough to make her vomit.

“You have five seconds to explain to me why you are here before I call the guards.”

“What? Not going to take care of it yourself?” he joked.

“If you wish to leave this room in ribbons, I can.”

He shifted again. Good. He knew she wasn’t lying. He had a satchel at his side that was covered in enough magic to send the Velvet Guard into a frenzy. With deft fingers, he clicked the lock against the brown leather, sending a pulse through the room.

“You’re trying my patience,” she warned him.

He nodded, nervously licking his lips as he pulled out a small box. It was velvet lined and smelled sweetly of honeysuckle. Belladonna knew those boxes well. Goblin made. Most likely containing a necklace or bracelet inside that was woven together with the most dangerous of curses.

“So,” Milo said. “I intercepted this. Won it, actually. During a bar fight? No matter. But uh… it’s a Bella original, from what I am told. And… I mean it's clear this thing is going to kill someone.”

Belladonna stayed silent. Those types of boxes shouldn’t have been floating around the market. After reaching their target, they turned to ash. Belladonna knew what the box contained but not if there was a true recipient to it. The fact that someone in a bar was casually carrying that around felt uncomfortable in a way that churned her stomach. No one, and she meant no one, should have access to any of Pim’s curses.

“Was it stolen? The one who had it, that is, did he steal it?”

“Most likely.”

“Why are you bringing it to me?”

“Mostly because I really have a desire to open it up and wear it and that doesn’t seem great.”

Bella’s eyes flashed. The latest curse she had been working on was for Kavatti. Something beautiful to appeal to her vanity. A gift that would take her final hours. Pim was supposed to be seeing if he could imbue his gems with such a thing. Jewels specifically to kill a Baron. Her eyes flitted across Milo. This… cretin. This streetrat of a man.

“You’re looking a little wrung out, Milo.”

He held the box out to her. “Like I said, I want to wear it.”

“And you know what it does?”

“Oh, I’ve heard of what you can do, Ms. Malady,” he said. She had to smile as he remembered to address her formally. “I just kind of want to know if you’re actually trying to kill me or if this is just a general kind of kill someone thing.”

The corners of her lips quirked. “Who says I made it?”

“Right. Of course you didn’t.” He still held it out to her, hand shaking as his thumb ran over the velvet of the box.

Belladonna made her way towards him, hips swaying back and forth. When Milo eyes didn’t slip down to the swell of her thighs, she knew he was consumed by what was humming inside. That intoxication that said this little gem was his. That he should wear it. That it belonged to him.

When she took the box away from him, he sighed in relief.

“Seriously, what the fuck is that thing?”

She raised her brow at him. “Something meant for a Baron.”

It was so miniscal, she almost didn’t see it. There was a subtle shift in the way Milo held himself. Like the world around him was sharper now. Belladonna held her own surprise in, roaming over every inch of his body as if she could find a tell. There was the ring, of course, but that had been his ex lovers, as far as she knew. 

Then again…

“Thanks for taking that off my hands,” he told her, straightening. “I’ll pretend like I didn’t hear that last part. Could be my payment to you.”

“You’ll pay coin at the front desk.”

He laughed, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing at the back of his neck. A tell she had seen him do often. More of a character trait she thought. 

He frowned. “You sure you don’t want to–”

“Leave.”

“And I’m gone.” He turned, walking out of the room, not daring to look back. Belladonna, however, stared after him. Suddenly so much more interested in Milo Next than she ever thought she would be.