Milo ran back to the mansion. His body still felt stiff and sore from the injuries Nero had given him, but he moved with more energy than before. He felt like he was working toward a goal. He went to the guest room, took a long shower, and scrubbed the soot from his skin.
After he finished, he put on the clothes from yesterday. They were still a bit dirty from sweat and the blood from his wounds, but he didn’t have anything else. He put on the house sandals Stella had given him and walked out into the hallway.
He looked for Salvatore, but the man was not in the study. He walked toward the living areas. He saw a guard walking by.
"Sorry, where is Mr. Portello?" Milo asked.
The guard looked at Milo with suspicion. Then he rembered the boy from the night before. "He is probably having breakfast in the dining room," the guard said.
Milo walked toward the dining room. He saw Roderick standing in the hallway near the door, talking on a mobile phone. Milo peeked inside the large room. He saw Salvatore sitting at a long wooden table. The man was eating a piece of bread and looking at so papers.
Milo stayed outside. He didn’t want to interrupt. But Salvatore didn’t even look up before he spoke.
"Co in, Milo!" Salvatore said.
Milo was surprised. He hadn’t realized Salvatore knew he was there. He walked into the room and stood at the end of the long table.
Salvatore looked at him. He put down the papers.
The clothes Milo was wearing were tight and showed every curve of his body. Salvatore looked at Milo’s neck and chest. He swallowed a piece of bread, and for a mont, he seed distracted.
Milo’s body was so tempting it stirred his hidden desire.
"Ask Stella to give you so proper clothes," Salvatore said.
Milo bowed his head. "Yes, Sir." He turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Salvatore asked. "Sit down."
Milo turned back, looking confused. Salvatore pointed his finger at the chair directly across from him. Milo did not hesitate. He was used to following orders quickly. He sat down and gripped the edge of the table.
Salvatore signaled to a servant. A few monts later, the servant brought a plate of eggs, bread, and fruit for Milo. Milo just stared at the food. He didn’t know if he was allowed to eat it.
"Eat," Salvatore said. "What is your family na?"
Milo thought about the question. Which family?
"Nnghh... Hartley," he whispered.
Salvatore stopped chewing. He stared at Milo. "What? You are Hartley’s son?"
Milo shook his head quickly. "No. But they adopted . It is a long story."
"Tell ," Salvatore said, forgetting about his food.
Milo took a small bite of bread. "My uncle sent to the Hartleys when I was seven. For many years, Nero tortured . Then, soone reported it to the authorities. I don’t know who. The police ca. They told Mr. Andro how to avoid scandal. They needed to adopt so they could give a better life. They didn’t help ."
Salvatore let out a short laugh. "Of course. They adopted you so they could say they could discipline you. Interesting." He paused. "Did you go to school?"
Milo nodded. "Yes. It is a cri not to provide an education for a child. But Nero didn’t want to leave the house. He paid a teacher to co to the mansion for hoschooling."
"Did they actually teach you anything?" Salvatore asked.
"Yes. Most of the ti," Milo said.
"Most of the ti?"
"Nero tried to make the teacher co less often," Milo explained. "He gave the teacher extra money to stay away. But I studied the books anyway. I learned well."
"So you technically graduated from high school?" Salvatore asked.
"Yes. But Nero burned my certificate," Milo said. He looked down at his plate. "He said I didn’t need it. I would never leave him to work anywhere else. He said the only thing I needed was him."
Salvatore stared at Milo. He placed his bread back on his plate. "Interesting. And you were stupid enough to stay there."
Milo looked up. "I tried to run away many tis. I don’t know how they found every ti, but they did. They always managed to get back."
Salvatore looked at Milo’s face. He could tell the boy was telling the truth. He knew how arrogant the Hartleys were. They thought they owned the city. But they were quite famous for their infamous actions.
"Is that why you asked to keep you here?" Salvatore asked.
Milo nodded. "I have no other choice. If I go back, he will kill anyti."
Milo looked at Salvatore. "Please. Take ."
Salvatore drank his water. "Finish your food."
Milo quickly finished his al. After he finished, Salvatore stood up.
"Follow ," Salvatore said.
They walked out of the house and into the back garden. Near the stone wall, two n were tied up. They were kneeling on the grass. Their mouths were covered with tape. Milo gasped when he saw them. He saw the blood on their shirts.
Joe walked to Salvatore. "They don’t know anything."
"Wasting ti."
Salvatore reached into his waistband and pulled out a heavy black pistol. He turned and handed it to Milo.
Milo froze. He stared at Salvatore in horror, then at the gun. His hands began to shake violently as he reached out to take it. The tal was cold and much heavier than he expected.
"Look at those n," Salvatore said. His voice was like ice. "They are people stupid enough to follow a stupid man and stay loyal to him. And they think I can’t kill them."
Milo looked at the n. They were wide-eyed with terror. They were shaking just as much as Milo was.
"Shoot them," Salvatore ordered. "If you can kill them, I will believe you are serious. I will train you to be my man. It is all in your hands."
Milo stared at the gun in his hands. He looked at the n on the ground. Then he looked at Salvatore. This was the choice. He could be a murderer and be free, or he could be a slave and go back to his nightmare.
Milo raised the gun. His arms were trembling so hard he couldn’t aim. He felt the weight of the choice in his chest.
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