The walk from Mr. Bogli’s cage to the next area of the estate felt longer and more tense for Milo. Milo’s legs still felt like jelly, and his heart was still pounding.

He stayed a few paces behind Salvatore and Alben, his eyes darting around the tall grass and the thick trees. He was quickly realizing that the area was really big.

The mansion itself was already as large as a castle, but everything around it made it feel more like a village. Imagine having that place, with animals and buildings all around it, Milo didn’t know what they were for.

And now, he didn’t know where they were going. He just followed. Quietly. While he listened to the two men in front of him discussing something he didn’t understand.

He felt so small.

They reached a section of the grounds. The air turned heavy and damp. Milo could hear water trickling softly, and he could smell rotting wood.

He looked at his bare feet, dry leaves crunched under his steps, and he walked carefully to avoid the sharp pebbles.

Salvatore led them toward a large, sunken area surrounded by a high concrete wall topped with iron fencing. Inside, the ground was a muddy swamp, filled with dark, murky water and thick tangles of mangrove roots.

Milo walked to the edge of the fence and looked inside. At first, he saw nothing but logs floating in the green-black water. Then, one of the logs blinked.

Damn! Crocodiles!!

He counted them slowly. There were at least ten of them. These were not small. These were massive crocodiles, some of them over twelve feet long. They lay perfectly still, their armored backs breaking the surface of the swamp. They looked like statues made of wet stone.

Milo’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes moved to a patch of dry ground near the center of the enclosure. His face went completely white.

What is that?

Scattered among the mud were the unmistakable remains of something, or someone. He saw a piece of dark fabric and what looked like a bleached white bone.

The crocodiles didn’t look hungry, they looked so calm.

Salvatore stood by the gate, casually talking to Alben. He glanced over and saw Milo’s horrified expression. A small, dark smirk touched his lips.

"If you ever betray me," Salvatore said, his voice as calm as the water, "I won’t waste a bullet on you. I’ll shove your body over this fence. They’ll love it."

Milo gulped. He tried to force a smile, but it came out as a bitter, painful twitch of his lips. "I... I hope I won’t make a mistake, Sir."

Salvatore turned his full attention to the young man.

"You can make a mistake. Mistakes are human. The one thing I cannot tolerate is betrayal. I hate a liar."

Milo remained quiet. He just nodded. He didn’t know how to explain that he had lived his entire life in a world where lying was the only way to survive. With Nero, the truth usually got you killed or whipped.

But looking at Salvatore, he realized the rules here were different. He had to adapt to his new master.

Salvatore watched him. He noticed the way Milo stood, shoulders hunched, head slightly bowed. The young man was obedient.

He was sure Nero had trained him well to follow orders without question. But Salvatore didn’t just want loyal men. He wasn’t satisfied with guards who merely followed orders. He wanted them to have a brain.

Milo stared down at the crocodiles. He imagined himself being thrown to them, the feeling of the water closing over his head. He imagined the sudden, violent rush as those jaws snapped shut on his legs.

Hiiihhh! No way! He shuddered, his entire body shaking with a sudden chill.

Salvatore looked at his "pets" in the swamp and then turned back to Milo. "You said you’d do anything I ask, didn’t you?"

Milo looked at Salvatore. This man had saved him from Nero. That meant he owed Salvatore his life. He was no longer Nero’s property, but he was certainly under Salvatore’s command now.

He nodded slowly.

"I will, Sir," Milo whispered.

Salvatore’s smirk widened. "Interesting. Let’s see how serious you are. Ben, open the gate."

Alben had been leaning back, enjoying a cigarette. He looked at Salvatore, a brief flash of surprise crossing his face, but it was quickly replaced by a grin.

He reached for the heavy latch and pulled the gate open. The hinges let out a loud, rusty groan.

Milo looked at the open gate and then at the dark water beyond. His mind began to race.

"Go inside," Salvatore commanded. His tone was casual, as if he were asking Milo to bring him a glass of water.

Milo’s eyes widened. He looked at the massive crocodiles, then back at Salvatore.

"I-inside? There?"

Salvatore nodded. "Yes. Go inside."

Milo felt his stomach tighten into a hard knot. His face, already pale, turned a ghostly, waxen white.

No way...

"Sir..." He looked at him pleadingly.

"I don’t want to waste my time, Milo," Salvatore said. He straightened his back, his presence becoming cold and hard. "Do it."

Milo wanted to cry. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyelids, but he was too ashamed to let them fall in front of them.

He wondered if these crocodiles were like the tiger, if they were some kind of trick. But the sight of the bone in the mud told a different story. These were dangerous animals.

He looked at Salvatore one last time. He searched for a sign of a joke, but the Don’s face was like stone. Salvatore stood with his hands on his hips, looking impatient.

Milo was terrified of the crocodiles, but he was even more terrified of making Salvatore angry. He didn’t want to be sent back to Nero. He didn’t want to be a disappointment.

He took a shaky breath, his legs trembling so hard he could barely stand.

He walked toward the open gate.