Salvatore stared down at the young man, his gray eyes darkening with a mixture of disbelief and deep irritation.

He hadn’t expected that answer. He had deliberately used his full weight and his harshest tone to terrify Milo, fully intending to push him away by exposing the unyielding, dominant nature of his desires.

Most people who had survived severe, systematic trauma would have flinched, panicked, or begged for space when confronted with such a heavy display of physical control.

Yet Milo lay beneath him, his breathing fast and ragged, whispering a desperate permission.

Yes... Please.

Salvatore didn’t back down, he looked at the fragile structure of Milo’s jaw and resolved to press harder, to truly scare him into submission so the young man would understand the reality of what he was asking for.

Keeping Milo’s wrists pinned firmly above his head with one hand, Salvatore used his free hand to roughly grip the hem of Milo’s shirt. He yanked the fabric upward, tearing the buttons open to expose Milo’s pale chest to the cold air.

As the cloth parted, Salvatore felt a sudden, violent tremor run through Milo’s entire body.

Milo stiffened. He was fighting with everything he had to remain brave, to show the man that he was excited and entirely compliant. But his nervous system was operating on a different set of rules.

The moment Salvatore’s large, calloused hand moved away from his face to strip off the shirt, an involuntary survival reflex took over.

Milo flinched spontaneously, his shoulders jerking upward and his eyes snapping shut as his muscles braced for an expected blow.

Salvatore saw the reaction clearly. The spontaneous flinch was impossible to hide.

The man stopped moving instantly, his body freezing over Milo’s chest. He looked down at the young man, whose face was tense, his eyelids squeezed shut as he waited for the pain.

In that heavy silence, Salvatore couldn’t help but admire what lay beneath him. Milo was exceptionally handsome, his skin pale, his nature gentle, loyal, and caring.

He perfectly matched every dark criterion Salvatore had ever desired in a partner.

But seeing that raw, physical reflex of fear made it impossible for Salvatore to continue. He refused to be another monster abusing a captive.

"You can’t even enjoy it," Salvatore said, his voice flat, dropping the growl as he looked down at the shivering boy. "Do you think I’m joking? Or do you think this is some kind of game I play to pass the time?"

Milo opened his eyes quickly, his hazel irises wide and swimming with immediate panic. His heart was pounding so hard he could feel it vibrating against Salvatore’s chest.

"Sir... I’m..."

Salvatore didn’t wait for an explanation. He released his iron grip on Milo’s wrists, shifted his weight, and stood up from the edge of the mattress, stepping back.

The sudden loss of the man’s weight made Milo panic completely. He felt a freezing wave of desperation hit his chest.

He knew that if he failed to prove himself right now, Salvatore would build a permanent wall between them, and he would never have another opportunity to stay by his side.

Milo scrambled up against the pillows, his voice high and frantic.

"I’m getting used to it, Sir! I will... I can do it! Please, just trust me!"

Salvatore stood by the bed.

"The fact that you’re getting used to it is exactly why I can’t accept your feelings, Milo. You don’t even understand your own emotions right now."

"I do!" Milo shouted, his voice cracking with raw, bleeding honesty as he leaned toward the man.

"I really love you! I don’t care about the rest! I really don’t care how you’ll treat me in bed, Sir. I’m sure... I’m completely sure you have no bad intentions like Nero did. I know you care about my safety. You saved me!"

Salvatore looked at Milo deeply, his expression an unreadable mask of stone. He stepped closer, reached down, and held Milo’s chin up with a firm, unyielding grip, forcing the boy to look directly into his eyes.

"Listen to me. Focus on your own life right now. I don’t want to ruin your life any more than it already has been. And I absolutely do not want the responsibility of managing your feelings. It’s exhausting."

Milo’s lips trembled against Salvatore’s fingers, his chest heaving.

"Sir..."

"You will have me whenever you want," Salvatore stated, his tone flat and absolute. "If someone threatens you, I will be there. I will come whenever you need me for business or your safety. That is what I can give you."

Milo looked at him, his expression turning thoroughly frustrated and broken.

"You really don’t love me?"

"I never love people," Salvatore answered without a single shred of hesitation. "So, no."

"Not even... you don’t even have a single feeling for me?" Milo whispered, tears finally streaming down his cheeks. "Or is it just because you don’t want to try because I’m weak?"

Salvatore let out a short, heavy sigh through his nose, releasing his grip on Milo’s chin.

"You are broken. You know that. It took me years and a mountain of bodies to fix myself after what Niccolo did to my family. I don’t want to try fixing another person’s mind. I don’t have the patience for it."

Milo looked down at his hands, his voice dropping into a hollow, defeated murmur.

"I’m broken..."

Salvatore placed his large hand on Milo’s shoulder, his grip steadying him.

"You have a lot of things to do now, Milo. And instead of thinking about your future, you’re focusing entirely on me."

"Because of you, I’m alive right now!" Milo cried out, his defiance flaring back up through his grief. "I don’t want anything else! I don’t care about the Hartley companies or this mansion! If I have to give up every single asset, every cent of the inheritance, just to stay beside you, I’ll do it right now, right here!"

Salvatore stared at him, his jaw tightening.

"You know how stupid you sound right now?"

"I don’t know..." Milo gasped, his breath catching as he completely lost control of his rationality. He was driven entirely by the terrifying prospect of being left behind in this empty house. "I am enough with you, Sir. Under your care, I will get everything I need. I—"

"Shhh. Stop it," Salvatore commanded, his voice turning sharp.

Milo shook his head frantically.

"If I stop, I’ll have no chance anymore!"

Before Salvatore could react or grab his hands, Milo reached down with frantic, chaotic speed. He pulled his shirt completely off his shoulders, tossing it onto the floor, and unfastened his trousers, kicking them away until he was entirely naked on the bare mattress.

His body was still covered in bruises. With not a shred of modesty left, Milo lay flat on his back, dragging his hips to the edge of the bed so his legs hung limply over the side, exposing his raw vulnerability completely to the man.

"Trust me," Milo wept, his hazel eyes wide and staring directly at the ceiling. "I’m used to this. Do it as hard as you can, Sir. I can endure it. Please..."

Salvatore’s eyes widened slightly, his breath catching in his throat. He stayed perfectly still, his gaze tracking the pale, trembling lines of Milo’s bare torso.

The raw submission of the posture, combined with the desperate, weeping compliance of the boy, hit him with a massive, primal surge of temptation.

Every dominant instinct in his blood screamed at him to take what was being offered, to pin those legs down and claim the inheritance right there on the mattress.

Damn it... Salvatore thought, his fists clenching at his sides.

Just as Salvatore opened his mouth to speak, the heavy bedroom door swung open with a loud, sudden creak.

"There you are!" Roderick’s voice boomed into the room.

The man stopped dead in his tracks right on the threshold, his mouth opening slightly as his eyes took in the scene.

Milo was lying completely naked on his back with his legs hanging off the mattress, while Salvatore stood over him, his face dark with tension.

Roderick’s professionalism took over in less than a second. His expression flattened, his eyes moving to Salvatore with a quiet, judgmental look that clearly conveyed: "Can’t you hold yourself back for an hour and do this later?"

Roderick cleared his throat casually, tapping his watch.

"Well. May I interrupt?"

The sound of an outsider’s voice broke the spell instantly. Milo let out a soft shriek, scrambling backward on the mattress like a frightened animal.

He grabbed his discarded shirt and trousers, clutching them to his chest to cover his nakedness as his entire face, neck, and shoulders flushed a bright, burning crimson.

He wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

Salvatore raised his hand, roughly scratching his temple as he turned his back to the bed to face his guard.

He looked at Roderick with an irritated, heavy sigh.

"What is it, Rod?"

"The notary is here," Roderick reported, his tone completely neutral, as if he hadn’t just walked into a private scandal. "I messaged you, but you didn’t reply."

Salvatore nodded once, adjusting his cuffs.

"Alright. We’ll be downstairs in five minutes."

Roderick nodded, offered a polite, casual smile toward Milo’s hiding form, and stepped back out into the corridor, closing the heavy oak door firmly behind him to give them privacy.

The moment the lock clicked, Milo buried his head in the pile of clothes, letting out a loud, agonized groan.

"AARRGHH! What have I done?! Sir! This is horrible!"

Salvatore turned around, a low, rumbling chuckle escaping his chest as he watched the young man try to disappear into the linen sheets.

"What did you do?" Salvatore teased, his gray eyes glinting with amusement. "You just stripped naked in front of me, offered yourself like a piece of meat, begged me to use you hard, and then showed yourself to my man."

Milo groaned louder, his voice muffled by the fabric.

"Sir! Please stop! You are making me feel worse!"

Salvatore’s chuckle faded into a calm, steady smile. He walked over to the side of the bed, reached down, and patted the top of Milo’s brown hair through the clothes.

"Get up. Put your clothes on. We need to get downstairs right now."

Milo pulled the shirt away from his eyes, looking up at the Don with a fragile, pouty desperation.

"How is it, Sir? Please... I really don’t want to stay in this house."

Salvatore looked at Milo’s messy hair and the lingering blush on his cheeks. He knew the lesson had failed, he hadn’t scared Milo away, and he certainly hadn’t solved the problem of the young man’s dependency. He let out a short sigh, turning toward the door.

"You’re coming back to the mansion with me tonight. But you have to start using this house too."

Milo’s face lit up instantly, the humiliation forgotten as he quickly began pulling his trousers on.

"Yes, Sir! Thank you!"

He realized something when he looked at his shirt.

"Oh, my shirt!"

Salvatore looked at Milo, then at the shirt.

"What?"

Milo groaned softly.

"Why did you rip my shirt? I can’t button it now." 𝚏𝗿𝗲𝐞𝚠𝕖𝐛𝗻𝗼𝐯𝕖𝚕.𝚌𝗼𝗺

"You were the one who challenged me. I could do worse, you know?" Salvatore held out the suit jacket and buttoned it to cover the torn shirt.

Milo looked at Salvatore. "Next time I’ll bring more shirts."

"No, you won’t."