The car came to a stop on the gravel driveway of the Portello mansion. The headlights cut through the darkness, illuminating the stone pillars of the entrance.

Salvatore stepped out of the vehicle first. He walked around to the passenger side and opened the door.

Milo sat on the leather seat, clutching Salvatore’s oversized jacket around his shoulders. He was shivering. The fever made the lights of the mansion look blurry and distorted.

"Can you walk?" Salvatore asked. His voice was steady, showing no sign of warmth or coldness.

Milo looked at the distance between the car and the front door. He gripped the jacket tighter, trying to pull the fabric over his lap to hide his nakedness.

"Y-yes," he whispered.

Milo slid his legs out of the car. As his bare feet touched the ground, the cold stone sent a jolt through his body. He stood up, but his knees felt like they were made of water. He wobbled, his hand reaching out to the car door for support.

He looked up at the massive building. Just a few days ago, he had been here as a temporary servant. Now, he was returning in a state of total ruin.

Salvatore watched Milo struggle for a few seconds. He didn’t wait for the young man to fall. He stepped in, placed one arm behind Milo’s back and the other under his knees, and lifted him into the air.

"S-sir..." Milo gasped, his hands instinctively grabbing Salvatore’s shoulders.

Salvatore said nothing. He turned and walked toward the entrance with long, purposeful strides. The guards stationed at the door stood at attention, their eyes widening as they saw their Don carrying a naked, shivering man wrapped in a jacket. They looked at each other in disbelief, then glanced at Roderick, who was walking a few paces behind.

Roderick simply shrugged silently. He followed them inside, his face as inscrutable as ever.

As they entered the main hall, Alben was waiting. He looked bored and was chatting with everyone. But he stopped immediately when he saw Salvatore. His eyebrows shot up as he watched the man walk past him.

"Wow," Alben said, leaving the maid he was talking to and following them.

He looked at Milo. "Milo? Welcome back. What’s going on? Did Salvatore kidnap you?"

Milo just gulped. He was confused too.

Salvatore ignored him. He walked quickly down the corridor, the weight of Milo seemingly no trouble for him. He reached the guest room Milo had occupied before and kicked the door open. He walked over to the bed and laid Milo down on the silk sheets.

Milo curled into a ball immediately, his skin pale against the white bedding. He looked exhausted, his breathing shallow and rapid.

"Did you take any medicine?" Salvatore asked. He stood by the bedside, looking down at Milo.

Milo swallowed nervously. He shook his head slowly.

Salvatore reached out with his large hand and pressed it against Milo’s forehead. The heat was intense. Salvatore’s brow furrowed.

"I’m asking Dr. Andrew to come. He’ll be here soon. I hope nothing serious has happened to you. And... you stay here. When you’re feeling better, we’ll talk."

Milo nodded, unable to find his voice. He flinched when Alben suddenly sat on the edge of the bed. Alben stared at him, scrutinizing him from head to toe with intense curiosity. Salvatore’s jacket had shifted, revealing Milo’s bruised thighs and the red, irritated skin on his chest.

"What is this?" Alben asked, his voice low. He extended a finger toward Milo’s chest, where the gold rings glinted under the bedroom lights.

"Salvatore, did you really kidnap him? This looks personal."

As Alben’s finger brushed the area near the piercing, Milo winced and pulled back, a low sound of pain escaping his throat.

"Oh, it’s new," Alben noted. He looked up at Salvatore, his eyes full of a suggestive, judgmental look. "I know you’re a crazy master, but I didn’t know you were into this kind of thing."

"I’m not that crazy to put things like that on him," Salvatore said calmly. He stepped between Alben and the bed.

"Hartley treats him like a dog, and he lets him." Salvatore looked at Milo, then back at Alben.

"Anyway, we need him, so he stays here."

Alben let out a dry laugh. "We? Oh, so I can sleep with him too, right?" He looked at Milo and gave a small, flirtatious tilt of his head. "Hey, do you want to come to my house instead? My room’s much nicer than here."

"Can you take your perverted brain somewhere else?" Salvatore said, his voice turning cold.

"I’m serious," Alben insisted, standing up but staying close to the bed. "He’s here to accompany us, right? To be a guest? He’s too pretty to just sit in a room."

Salvatore sighed, a sound of pure irritation. "No. He won’t just ’sit in a room.’ He’ll be a guard. He’ll work for us. And don’t touch him, you motherfucker!"

Alben looked at Milo, who was glancing back and forth between the two men with a confused, fearful expression.

"You’re fucking serious? You’re going to make this one a guard?" Alben gestured to Milo’s thin, trembling frame.

Salvatore looked at Milo, his eyes hard. "Yes. He will stay here, so he better be useful. I have no room for toys."

Alben shook his head. "You’d better come with me, Milo. You wouldn’t have to do anything but talk to me. You could actually enjoy your life for once."

"Seriously, Ben," Salvatore said, stepping toward the door. "Can’t you find someone your age? He’s a kid! You’re sick. Unbelievable!"

"What?" Alben argued, following him. "Look at him. He’s NOT a kid. He’s a grown man, and he’s gorgeous. You’re just blind." 𝒻𝘳ℯℯ𝑤ℯ𝒷𝘯ℴ𝓋ℯ𝘭.𝑐ℴ𝑚

Milo gulped, pulling the blanket up to cover himself. He felt like an object being debated by two collectors. But he didn’t know why or how Salvatore’s words gave him such a sense of relief.

They were gone. Milo was left alone in the silence of the room. The transition was so fast that his brain struggled to catch up. One moment he was under Nero’s feet, and the next, he was back in the Portello mansion.