Salvatore smirked. "Are you that scared of him?"
Milo swallowed hard. It was easy for that man to mock him while he had power. But for people like him, he had to bow his head even if he was beaten.
Salvatore stood up, making Milo flinch. The man just stared before walking out of the room. Then he turned around.
"You will stay here for a day. You have to pay for it. You will work for me tomorrow until your master comes back," said Salvatore.
Before Milo could reply, the man continued. "And put your clothes back on if you don't want to be raped by my men."
Milo swallowed hard as he watched Salvatore leave. The man made him want to kneel voluntarily, but he was also very frightening, considering how he had killed people without batting an eye in front of him.
Milo didn't understand whether Salvatore was being nice to him or taking advantage of him.
He couldn't forget his purpose for being there. He had to see the man's body, even though he knew he wouldn't find anything. Salvatore's face looked fresh and healthy, glowing. The man wasn't going to die anytime soon.
A few moments later, a woman arrived. She smiled awkwardly at him. She was carrying a tray of food and clothes draped over her arm.
"Come with me, I'll take you to your room," said the woman.
Milo immediately followed the woman.
He couldn't believe he had been given such a decent guest room. He stared at the spacious room in front of him. Was he mistaken?
The woman placed the tray on the table in the middle of the room. She also carefully placed the clothes on the sofa.
"My name is Stella. You can use that phone to call me if you need anything. Eat something, and here are some clothes for you. I hope they fit. Don't worry, these clothes are still new, for the guards' supplies," Stella explained at length.
Milo just stood there awkwardly. He still couldn't believe he had gotten a nice room, plus he had been given food and clothes, even though he had come as a slave.
Stella saw that Milo looked uncomfortable, so she immediately showed him the bathroom. "If you want to take a shower."
Milo nodded again. "Thank you. I think... I will shower first. Mr. Portello will come later?" asked Milo. After all, that man had to "use" him, right? It was impossible for that man to offer this kindness without expecting anything in return.
Stella looked confused. "I don't know."
Milo just nodded. He would find out later. After all, he had to see that man's body.
Milo watched Stella leave the room. For a moment, he wanted to ask Salvatore to protect him from Nero. But what if Nero was stronger and more powerful? He would only die at Nero's hands.
Milo stared at the food on the table. He hadn't eaten, and he realized he was hungry. He stared at the bread and chicken stew, which looked so tempting.
Was that food really for him?
What happened to Salvatore? He wasn't like the madman Nero had described.
Milo finished his meal before cleaning himself up to welcome Salvatore later.
Meanwhile, in the hall, they had finished their "punishment." The guards dispersed after Salvatore's long rant.
Three men remained there, breathing heavily, sweat covering their bodies.
"Damn it! I hate this," complained one of them, wiping the sweat from his neck.
Salvatore walked down the corridor toward the study. "You three are responsible for managing them."
The three men were Salvatore's confidants after he killed those who challenged him following Niccolo's death.
Felix, the youngest one, 27 years old. He was responsible for being the bridge between people outside and the family. Sometimes he was still confused about his new roles. He had lost his men many times.
Joe, 41 years old, was very experienced in security and people in their world. He was strict and efficient.
Alben, 37 years old, was the laid-back and relaxed one. But he was the most dangerous, as he had information on all the weapons and was the one responsible for executing people who got in their way.
"You've made me lose face," said Joe, still unable to accept it.
Salvatore grinned. "What face did you have when you failed to catch them? You want me to die early?"
Before Joe could reply, Alben interrupted. "Who is that kid?"
Salvatore sat on the sofa, while the other three chose to stand, feeling their bodies still stiff after doing so many push-ups.
Salvatore took out a book and placed it in front of them. But he looked at Alben.
"You mean the one from Hartley?"
"Ah, they sent him for you? Wow, he looks nice." Alben grinned.
Salvatore leaned back. "What? You have a plan for him?"
Alben shrugged. "Can I have him for myself?"
"You want to fuck him?" Salvatore accused.
Alben grinned again.
"Are you so short on men that you have to fuck a baby?" Salvatore retorted, looking disgusted.
"What baby? He looks old enough," Alben replied, refusing to accept the accusation.
"I'm not sure he's even 18 yet," said Salvatore.
"Hey, don't you know Macron sells kids around 14 years old? He's legal to fuck! Anyway, Hartley sent him for you to use," said Alben.
Salvatore looked at Alben as if mocking him. "Keep your bird caged for an hour. I need you to tell me what's wrong with this number," he said, pointing to the book in front of him.
The book contained numbers.
Alben gave up and sat down on the sofa. Joe grabbed the book. It looked like a financial ledger.
They were busy for several hours.
At midnight, the seriousness of the room was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Salvatore turned toward the door, which was not closed.
Milo. Standing with a teapot in his hand.
"I'm sorry to interrupt you. C-can I serve you a drink?"