The Mafia's Stolen Prize (BL) Chapter 68: He Confronted A Lion

Milo returned to the kitchen for who knows how many tis with a full cup of coffee in his hand.

He didn’t make a fresh cup, he just brought back the sa one, because he knew Salvatore was just looking for a problem with him.

The coffee was cold now.

He just smiled. He set that cup aside and made a fresh one. Maybe this ti Salvatore would actually drink his coffee.

He felt happy along the way. He’d actually lost count sowhere around the seventh trip. The kitchen staff was confused by how many tis he’d co back for coffee, but they’d stopped reacting by the fourth.

Now they just moved around him when he ca through the door.

He rinsed the cup at the sink and moved to the coffee machine. While it was brewing, he opened the refrigerator and found the cake on the second shelf, already sliced into portions.

He took one piece out and set it on a small plate. He thought Salvatore might want sothing with his next cup. He wasn’t sure, but he took it anyway.

"Excuse ."

Milo turned around.

Maureen was standing near the prep counter with a dish towel in her hands and a sharp expression. She was a petite woman, efficient in her movents and speech, and right now both of those qualities were directed at Milo.

"Please be mindful of how much coffee you’re taking," she said.

She looked at the cup, then at Milo, then at the cup again. "You’ve been here more than ten tis this afternoon."

The kitchen had grown slightly quieter. Two staff mbers near the stove hadn’t stopped working, but they had slowed down.

Milo set the plate with the cake on the table. He looked at Maureen. "I’m sorry. It’s for Mr. Portello."

And he didn’t make fresh coffee every ti. He was just pretending to. Actually, he’d only made one cup of coffee, and this was the second one now. But he didn’t explain that.

Maureen looked at the cake, then at him. "Why does he need this much coffee?"

"He asked to bring it."

"Oh, don’t use Salvatore. If you want coffee, make so for yourself. I don’t mind that. But be mindful about it. If we run out, I won’t be ordering more until next month."

Milo fell silent. Maureen had just accused him of lying.

"I don’t drink coffee," Milo said. He kept his voice as calm as possible. "I’m not taking it for myself. Mr. Portello asked to bring him coffee, and I’ve been bringing it."

Maureen’s expression didn’t change. "Who’s going to believe that Salvatore asked for that much coffee? That man drinks one cup in the morning. Maybe two. Be honest with ."

Milo opened his mouth, trying to deny the accusation.

"I’m not lying," he said. "It’s not for . It’s for Mr. Portello. I don’t even like coffee."

Maureen’s voice rose a notch, not shouting, but loud enough to carry. "Salvatore isn’t sitting in his office drinking cup after cup like—"

"He didn’t lie. I asked him for that much coffee."

The voice ca from the doorway.

Salvatore walked into the kitchen at his usual pace, which was steady and direct. He moved to the table and stood near it, not far from where Milo was standing, and looked at Maureen.

The kitchen fell completely silent.

Maureen looked at Salvatore. Her expression shifted to one of uncertainty. "Sorry. You asked for coffee. That much coffee?"

"Yes. I asked him. That’s what he was doing."

Milo sighed in relief. He was grateful Salvatore had co to explain. For sure, Maureen wouldn’t believe him even if he tried.

Maureen looked at Milo, then back at Salvatore. Her mouth closed. She straightened slightly. "Oh. Well, I didn’t know—"

"Well." Salvatore’s voice was calm. "I hope you’re not making a fuss over coffee. I told you to manage the budget and help run this place. That doesn’t an you should deny everyone what they need. When sothing is needed, order it. Coffee and food are necessities."

Maureen’s face had turned red. Salvatore had never spoken to her like this before, and certainly not in front of a new staff mber and half the kitchen staff.

She held the dish towel in both hands and said nothing.

"Co to my office. Bring Luke. I want to talk to both of you."

"Yes," Maureen said. Her voice was quieter than usual. "Sure."

Salvatore looked at the cake on the plate for a mont. He didn’t take it. He didn’t comnt on it. He turned and walked back toward the door.

At the doorway, he stopped and looked at Milo. "Go find Teo. Go play outside. I don’t need anything else right now."

Milo was stunned but answered quickly. "Yes, sir."

Salvatore left.

The kitchen remained quiet for a few seconds after the sound of his footsteps faded.

Then one of the staff near the stove started moving again, and the others followed, and the noise of the kitchen slowly returned.

Maureen set the dish towel down on the counter. She didn’t look at Milo.

Milo picked up the cup of coffee and the cake as well. Maybe Teo would like to eat it.

He walked out of the kitchen and went to find Teo. But did Salvatore an he should go play outside?

***

The Hartley Mansion.

Andro had been standing in the study since Nero walked through the door. His face was stiff. He’d waited a day to talk to Nero to let his temper cool down, but he still couldn’t manage it.

He had simply stood in the center of the room and waited, and when Nero entered, he had started speaking, his voice rising imdiately.

"What did you do?" It wasn’t a question. "Have you lost your mind?"

Nero stopped in the middle of the room. His face was tense. He had just returned from the hospital after checking on Sean, who ended up staying there longer.

He was exhausted, and his patience was already gone.

"What’s wrong? I just wanted to get back what belongs to ," Nero said.

"Can’t you do that in a civilized way? Do you need to make a scene in front of everyone?" Andro’s voice was still raised. His hands hung open at his sides. "Do you know what they’re saying? Do you want everyone laughing at us? Over so silly boy?"

"I don’t care what they’re saying."

"You should care! You’re my son! They might not care about you, but they’ll care about !"

Nero turned his face away. His jaw was set. "He’s mine. I’m going to get him back. That’s it."

Andro stood stiffly. He covered his face with one hand and stood there for a mont. Then he looked at his son. He sighed deeply. He saw how desperate Nero was.

"I don’t know," Andro said. His voice had dropped in volu but hadn’t softened. "I really don’t know what’s going on in your head. You don’t know who Salvatore is. You confronted him, and you’re standing here telling you don’t care."

Nero said nothing.

"He’s crazy. He’s killed people who were more powerful and wealthier than we are, and he did it without breaking a sweat. And you just walked up and put your hands on his thing!" Andro shook his head. "I don’t know what to tell you."

Nero crossed the room and collapsed onto the sofa. He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. His face was pale. The hospital had been loud and brightly lit, and the doctor had said Sean’s jaw was fractured in two places and would need surgery, and through it all, Nero had been thinking about one thing and one thing only.

Milo.

Andro looked at his son for a mont. So of the tension eased from his posture. He sat down in the chair across from him.

The room was quiet for a mont.

"You cannot win against that man with your anger and arrogance," Andro said. His voice was flat now, tired. "If you want sothing he has, you have to think. You have to be careful, and you have to be patient, and you have to use your head." He paused. "Can’t you do that?"

Nero’s hands were pressed together between his knees. He stared at the floor.

He couldn’t use his head when it ca to Milo. That was the problem. He had tried. Every ti he thought about the boy, he stopped thinking about anything else and started acting, and his actions were never careful when they involved Milo.

He had sent Jojo to try a different approach. Jojo hadn’t even co close. Salvatore had sent him back within an hour, unhard but with a very clear ssage.

It was infuriating.

"Sean needs surgery," Nero said.

"I know." Andro leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees. "Listen to . Hire so guards. People who can fight and use guns! What exactly can Sean do? After this confrontation, you’d better watch your step. Who knows when Salvatore might shoot you dead?"

Nero looked at him.

"I know. I’ve already thought about it."

"Have you?"

"Yes." Nero’s voice was flat. "I’ll hire new guards for us."

Andro looked at him for a long mont. Then he stood up, straightened his jacket, and walked toward the door. At the door, he stopped.

"He’s just a boy," Andro said, without turning around. "And you’ve put this family in a difficult position because of him."

"I hope you learn from this situation." Andro walked out.

Nero stayed on the sofa. The room was quiet now. He stared at the floor.

Nero sighed. His mind wandered.

Milo... It was so close. He could have brought him back yesterday. Damn!