That morning, Milo was ready to exercise ahead of time. It was only 5:30 AM, and the light outside was a pale, pre-dawn gray. He was already in his training clothes he got from Teo, the uniform for the guards.

He had slept well. After the exhaustion of the previous day and the strange, intense drama in Salvatore’s bedroom, his body had finally given in to deep rest.

He felt a quiet sense of gratitude. For the first time in his life, he had slept peacefully.

The images of the night before still flickered in his mind, about Felix and how Salvatore teased him. But instead of feeling embarrassment, Milo felt a strange warmth.

Salvatore hadn’t forced him. He hadn’t punished him for refusing, either. Anyway, at this point, Milo was sure the man had just teased him, not really asked him to spread for him for real. The man had standards, and Milo was not on his radar.

After all, Milo felt his respect for the man growing. He wanted to be loyal. He kind of had a weird feeling for the man. The dangerous one.

But then, he remembered the training field. He remembered the 55 additional push-ups he had caused the entire squad.

His muscles felt stiff and sore, like old wood. He didn’t know how he would survive another session, especially if Salvatore added more penalties.

He took a deep breath, walking through the corridor. The gold rings in his nipples were still tender, but the swelling had subsided. He was starting to get used to the weight of them.

"Milo."

Milo spun around. Salvatore was standing in the hallway. He was wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He signaled with a tilt of his head for Milo to follow him.

Milo’s heart hammered against his ribs. He followed Salvatore down the corridor and into the office.

Milo stood awkwardly in the center of the room, keeping his head down. He wondered if Salvatore was going to bring up the incident from the night before. Surely, the man was mad at him.

Salvatore walked behind his desk and opened a small drawer. He pulled something out and walked back toward Milo.

Salvatore stopped directly in front of him. He held out his hand, palm up.

Milo looked down. In Salvatore’s palm lay a single golden key. It was attached to a small, heavy silver charm shaped like a hollow-point bullet. It looked shiny and expensive.

Milo gulped. He looked at the key, then at Salvatore’s face.

"Take it," Salvatore commanded.

Milo hesitated, his hands trembling. What was the bullet for? Was this a threat?

"Take it, Milo," Salvatore repeated, his voice low and firm.

Milo slowly reached out and took the key. The metal was cold. The bullet charm had a surprising weight to it.

Salvatore didn’t mention anything about the previous night. It was as if that entire interaction last night had never happened.

"I have a mission for you," Salvatore said. "This key is very important to me. I want you to keep it for two days. No matter what happens, do not give it to anyone. Not even to me."

Milo looked at the key in his palm. He was confused. If the key was so important, why give it to a new, untrained guard?

"Understand?" Salvatore asked. "Your task is to protect it. From everyone. Even from me." He repeated it.

Milo nodded slowly. It seemed like a simple task. "Just to keep it for two days?"

"Yes. Only two days. If you can manage to keep it safe and return it to me, I will give you money."

Milo’s eyes brightened. He thought about the 500 euros in his drawer. He loved the idea of getting more money. He nodded eagerly and tucked the key deep into the pocket of his trousers.

"I will keep it safe, Sir."

"Good. Go now. Everyone is waiting on the field."

The training session was brutal. The morning air was sharp and cold, biting at Milo’s lungs as he struggled through the exercises.

The other guards were silent today, their faces set in grim masks. They did the routine push-ups, and then they did the fifty-five extra.

Milo’s arms gave out halfway through the extra set. He collapsed into the dirt, his face pale and his breathing ragged. He felt a sudden, violent wave of nausea.

He rolled onto his side and threw up onto the grass, his body shaking with the effort.

Salvatore stood at the head of the field, watching. He saw Milo’s state. He looked at the other guards, who were also reaching their limit.

But, miraculously for everyone, Salvatore made an exception and did not make them run.

A collective sigh of relief went up from the men. They were happy to be finished, and they knew it was because Milo had reached his physical breaking point.

Milo remained on the ground, trembling. He watched Salvatore’s boots as the man walked away from the backyard toward the house, leaving the guards to clean up.

Milo felt a deep sense of shame. He was the weakest person there.

"Hey, easy there."

A pair of strong hands reached down and helped Milo sit up. It was the bulky guard from the day before. He and another man hoisted Milo to his feet. They didn’t look angry today, they looked almost sympathetic.

"Are you okay?" the guard asked.

Milo nodded weakly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "I’m... I’m sorry."

"Don’t be. You saved us from the run," the guard said with a small grin.

They walked him to the pantry area. The servants were already busy, and the smell of Luke’s fresh bread was in the air. They sat Milo down at the table and pushed a glass of water into his hand.

Milo couldn’t eat. He felt too sick. He just leaned his head on the cool wood of the table, closing his eyes.

His body was not yet adapted to this life, and the "morning hell" was taking everything he had.

Teo came into the pantry a few minutes later and saw Milo’s condition. He quietly helped Milo back to his room so he could rest.

"Take a rest," Teo said, helping Milo sit on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks, Teo. I’ll get better soon," Milo whispered.

Teo placed a tray with bread and a fresh bottle of water on the nightstand. He noticed the golden key that had slipped out of Milo’s pocket when he sat down.

"That’s Salvatore’s key, right?" Teo asked calmly.

Milo looked at the key and nodded. He was too tired to think clearly. "Yes. He told me to keep it."

Teo looked at the key, then back at Milo. "It looks very important. You shouldn’t just leave it on the table. Someone might see it. Can I keep it for a while? I’ll give it back to you once you wake up. It’ll be safer with me."

Milo looked at the key. He remembered Salvatore’s words:

’It’s important.’

’Don’t give it to anyone.’

But Teo was a very good boy. And Teo was right, Milo was about to fall into a deep sleep, and he was worried about losing it. He trusted Teo more than anyone in the house.

Milo nodded slowly. "Yes... please. Keep it safe."

Teo grabbed the key and tucked it into his pocket. "Take a rest. If you need anything, just call for me."

Milo didn’t even hear him leave. He collapsed onto the pillow and fell into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

Milo woke up about an hour later. The nausea was gone, and his energy had returned. He ate some of the bread and drank the water, feeling the strength return to his limbs.

He decided to get dressed for the day. He put on the formal white shirt and black trousers, feeling like a professional guard.

Teo came back into the room a few minutes later and handed the key back. Milo smiled and tucked it into his pocket.

"Thank you, Teo. I don’t know what I should do now. Can I help you with anything?"

"I think it’s better if you stay with the guards," Teo suggested. "Salvatore doesn’t like it when you do the chores."

Milo nodded. Just as he was about to head to the kitchen to find Stella, a guard walked into the hallway. It was Fredo, the large bald man who had been kind to him.

"Milo, come with me," Fredo said. He looked serious.

"Can I help with something?" Milo asked.

Fredo nodded as they walked down the corridor. "Yes. We have a problem. There’s a wooden chest in the storage room that needs to be moved, but it’s locked. Salvatore told me he gave you the key this morning. He said you have the master key for the storage locks?"

Milo’s heart skipped. He reached into his pocket and felt the golden key. Fredo was a senior guard. If Fredo said Salvatore sent him, Milo didn’t want to disobey.

"He only gave me this one," Milo said, pulling it out.

Fredo’s face lit up. "That’s the one! Perfect. Let me see it. I’ll just go pop that lock and bring it right back to you. I don’t want to drag you all the way to the dusty basement while you’re still recovering."

Before Milo could even process the request, Fredo took the key from his hand and began walking fast down the next corridor.

"Wait—" Milo started, but Fredo was already gone.

Milo stood there, speechless. He felt a sudden, cold weight in his stomach.

’Don’t give it to anyone.’ Salvatore had said. But it was a senior guard. It was for work.

"Milo!"

He turned around to see Roderick standing at the end of the hall. "Salvatore is looking for you. He is in the office. Now."

Milo’s blood ran cold. He walked fast to the office, his mind racing. He reached the door and stepped inside. Salvatore was sitting on the sofa, looking through some files. He looked up as Milo entered.

"Hi. How are you feeling?" Salvatore asked.

"I’m fine, Sir," Milo whispered.

Salvatore set the files down. "Good. I need the key now. Give it to me."

Milo’s face turned white. He felt the air leave the room.

"Milo?" Salvatore prompted, his voice growing stern.