Chapter 146: Counting Down

Milo woke up today with something empty in his heart. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, listening for footsteps, for the low rumble of Salvatore’s voice somewhere down the hall.

There was nothing. Just the quiet hum of the mansion and the muffled sound of guards walking and talking outside. It seemed they had finished their morning exercise.

He got dressed and went to the kitchen, half-expecting Salvatore to be waiting at the dining table the way he usually did.

But the table was empty. Stella told him Salvatore had left.

Milo looked down. That man was busier than usual. He had no time to even have breakfast with him. He didn’t know that he would care so much about it.

He missed him.

Milo sighed. It wasn’t a day without that man.

Then he heard some rumors in the kitchen that Salvatore was still dealing with his cousin, who could cost him his life.

Milo was even more worried about it.

Milo sat alone at the long table, staring at the empty chair Salvatore usually used. The eggs on his plate had gone cold before he touched them.

Even Teo—that boy—he didn’t see him anywhere this morning.

Milo started to eat. But his mind kept thinking about Salvatore. He hadn’t realized how much he’d come to rely on it until it was gone.

"Oh, Milo, you are being dramatic right now..." he sighed, looking at his eggs.

By midmorning, the loneliness had curdled into something restless while he was in the office. Milo wandered the halls for a while, then found himself in his own room.

Liam was busy at his desk, but he kept looking at Milo.

Milo then sat at the desk, drumming his fingers against the wood, and then, almost on impulse, he called for Liam.

Liam walked over to him right away. "You need something?"

"Liam, I want to do something for everyone today," he said. "Can you get food for us? Good food. Whatever they want."

Liam blinked at him. He should have warned the young man that he couldn’t spend office money on that kind of thing too often. But he couldn’t say a word.

Within a few hours, the ground floor of the office building had been transformed. Long tables were set up in the break room, piled with trays of roasted meats, imported cheeses, fresh pastries, and more desserts than anyone could reasonably finish in a day.

Milo had spared no expense, ordering from three different caterers just to make sure there’d be enough variety.

Music played softly from a speaker someone had set up, and for the first time in what felt like weeks, the office didn’t feel like a place where people worked.

It’s a party house!

The employees were hesitant at first, glancing at each other like they were waiting for the catch, waiting for someone to tell them it was a mistake.

But when Milo himself walked through with a plate in hand, smiling and encouraging them to eat, the tension in the room slowly began to melt.

Laughter started up in small pockets. Someone thanked him quietly on their way past, ducking their head like they weren’t sure if it was allowed.

They should get used to it, but still, they couldn’t predict what Milo would do.

Milo looked around. It should help. Watching other people enjoy themselves gave Milo something to focus on besides the hollow feeling that had settled in his chest since morning.

But even surrounded by noise and food and gratitude, some part of him kept drifting back to his man, wondering where Salvatore was and whether he was safe.

His phone buzzed around six that evening. Franc.

"Hey, Milo. You free tonight? Let’s go out."

Milo stared at the message for a long moment. He knew he shouldn’t go without Salvatore’s permission. But Salvatore wasn’t home, and the thought of spending another night wandering the mansion alone made the decision easier than it should have been.

He called Liam.

"I want to go out with Franc tonight," Milo said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "Can you come with me?"

There was a pause on the other end. "Let me check with Mr. Portello first."

Liam tried calling. No answer. He tried again a few minutes later, then sent a message, and still nothing came back. Salvatore was clearly buried in something that didn’t leave room for his phone.

Liam exhaled through his nose, glancing at Milo, who was already halfway to the door, suit in hand, looking at him with an expression that was somewhere between hopeful and pleading.

Liam knew he should probably wait. He also knew that if he said no, Milo would likely find some other way to get out anyway, and it was safer to be there than not.

"Fine," Liam said. "But we’re not staying out long, and you’re not leaving my sight, please."

Milo brightened immediately. "Deal."

They met Franc at a small café not far from downtown, the place was a comfortable spot for the two of them.

Except tonight it didn’t feel comfortable at all, not with Liam sliding into the booth beside Milo and two guards taking up positions near the entrance, arms crossed, eyes scanning the room like they expected trouble to walk through the door at any moment.

Franc kept glancing at them nervously as the waitress took their order, his fingers tapping an anxious rhythm against the table.

"I feel like I’m going out with a president," Franc muttered under his breath.

"I’m really sorry," Milo said, wincing. "But at least we can go out."

"Yeah, it’s hard to go out with you these days," Franc said, forcing a small laugh that didn’t quite land.

"We’re friends, right? But so many times you’re home early, or Mr. Portello won’t let you go. How come he let you go today?"

Milo hesitated. "Actually... he didn’t say yes."

Franc’s face went pale. He glanced toward the door like he half-expected Salvatore to appear out of nowhere, gun already drawn.

"Milo. You’re sure we can be here together? Right now?"

"I don’t know," Milo admitted honestly.

That answer did nothing to reassure Franc, who now looked like he was seriously reconsidering every choice that had led him to this booth.

"Better we go home now," he said quickly.

"Oh, why? We haven’t gotten dessert yet."

"I’m good," Franc said, a little too fast. Better to skip dessert than end up in a shallow grave somewhere, he thought, though he kept that particular sentiment to himself.

Liam paid. They made their way toward the parking area a short while later, Franc walking half a step behind Milo the entire time, jumping at every passing car.

Then, just as they reached the lot, two black cars screeched to a stop in front of them, headlights cutting through the evening darkness.

Franc froze completely.

The doors opened, and Roderick stepped out first, followed by a handful of guards. Franc’s legs gave out beneath him before he even registered deciding to kneel, dropping straight to the pavement, hands raised, voice cracking with panic.

"Don’t shoot me! I didn’t have any bad intentions toward Milo, I swear it! Please!"

Roderick glanced down at him with mild surprise, then looked past him toward Liam.

"Everything all right here?"

"Yes, sir," Liam said evenly.

Roderick’s gaze shifted to Milo, and something in his tired expression softened into something closer to a smile.

"I’ll take you home. I was worried you weren’t back yet, so I checked with Liam. Looks like you’ve just been enjoying your evening. That’s why I didn’t want to interrupt. Do you have any other plans tonight?"

Franc, still on his knees, looked thoroughly confused by how casual this conversation had suddenly become around him.

Milo reached down and helped him back to his feet.

"You scared him," he told Roderick, half-scolding, half-amused despite himself. "No, we already went out. We were just heading home now."

"It’s fine if you’d still like to go somewhere," Roderick said. "Salvatore isn’t home tonight. I can come with you, if you’d like the company."

Milo’s eyes lit up. If Roderick was offering, then surely Salvatore wouldn’t object, not really.

"Franc, how about the movies?"

Franc hesitated, still shaking slightly, but the offer of an actual explanation for his continued survival seemed to steady him.

"Well... yeah. I think that could be fun."

Liam excused himself to head home, satisfied enough that Roderick had things handled.

The three of them spent the rest of the night together, picking a late showing at the nearest theater, sharing an absurd amount of popcorn, and afterward wandering off to get ice cream despite the hour, Franc slowly relaxing enough to actually laugh again by the time eleven o’clock rolled around.

Franc said his goodbyes outside the ice cream shop, still glancing over his shoulder once or twice as he walked away, like some part of him refused to fully believe he was in the clear. ℴ

Roderick drove Milo home in comfortable silence, the mansion’s gates coming into view sometime later, lit up against the dark.

He stopped in front but didn’t move to get out right away.

"Salvatore told me about your prediction," Roderick said finally, his eyes fixed ahead through the windshield. "About me."

Milo’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t expected the conversation to turn this way, not tonight.

"I’m sorry," he said quietly.

"It’s a strange thing, hearing you might know how much time you have left," Roderick said, a faint, humorless smile touching his mouth. "It feels like counting down to something I can’t see the end of. But I don’t want to talk about that part right now."

He turned to look at Milo properly. "My time might be short. But maybe I can still do something useful with it."

"Sorry?" Milo asked, not following.

"There was an old woman back at your old house. She said you were cursed. I didn’t believe her at the time. I thought she was just a crazy old woman rambling. But after what Salvatore told me about your ability... maybe she knew something real."

Milo went still, the memory of that woman, the same one Salvatore had mentioned to him before.

"I know someone who might be able to remove a curse like that," Roderick continued. "I don’t have a lot of time to spare, if what you saw is true. So maybe we shouldn’t wait. Do you want to come with me?"