Chapter 150: Shared Punishment

Milo woke up. He dressed and made his way toward the dining room, expecting nothing more unusual than another ordinary breakfast, until he passed a cluster of guards near the hallway, chuckling quietly among themselves.

"...Poor kid’s gonna be standing there all morning," one of them muttered, shaking his head with a grin.

Milo slowed, curious, but didn’t stop to ask, continuing on toward the dining room where Stella was already setting out plates.

"Morning, Milo!"

"Good morning. What happened to Teo?" Milo asked, settling into his usual seat.

Stella glanced up, wiping her hands on her apron. "I really don’t know," she admitted. "But Salvatore seemed so angry. He put him under the tree near the bakery."

Milo frowned. "Oh. What happened? Where is Mr. Portello?"

"He was in his office, I think," Stella said, already turning back toward the kitchen. "I will prepare your breakfast first. I don’t know if Salvatore will have breakfast here."

Milo nodded, but the moment Stella disappeared through the door, he slipped out, making his way toward the garden.

Sure enough, from a distance, he spotted a small, familiar figure standing beneath the old tree near the bakery.

"Teo!" Milo called, jogging over.

Teo’s head snapped up immediately, and despite everything, his face broke into a wide grin the moment he saw who it was. "Milo!"

"What happened?" Milo asked, slowing as he reached him. "Did you do something?"

Teo’s smile faded fast, his gaze dropping to his feet. He thought of Felix, the man who had almost gotten Milo killed. He felt too guilty to talk about it.

"I made a big mistake," he mumbled.

"What happened?" Milo asked again, gentler this time.

Teo shook his head, pressing his lips together, clearly torn between wanting to confess and knowing he shouldn’t.

Milo crouched down slightly to meet his eyes. "Tell me, Teo. Maybe I can help you talk to Mr. Portello."

"No," Teo said quickly. "It’s okay."

Milo didn’t push further, just settled onto the grass beside him and let the silence stretch, asking about small, easy things instead. How his morning had gone, whether Mr. Bogli had eaten well, anything to keep the conversation light and comfortable.

Slowly, Teo’s guard began to slip, the words tumbling out before he fully realized he was even speaking.

"Salvatore was in big trouble!" Teo blurted suddenly.

Milo blinked. "What?"

And then it all came pouring out: Felix showing up at the vine gap, the walk to the mansion, Salvatore’s fury, and worst of all, the warning about Alben, about betrayal, about danger closing in.

Milo sat there, stunned. He hadn’t known Felix had come back at all, hadn’t known anything about Alben supposedly plotting against Salvatore. A cold unease settled low in his stomach.

"Felix was really sorry," Teo added, his voice small. "I felt bad for him. Salvatore might be in real danger now."

Milo glanced around instinctively, checking that no one else was close enough to overhear, before looking back at Teo.

His chest ached with something heavy... worry for Salvatore, yes, but also a strange sadness. Why did everyone around this man seem to eventually turn against him?

"Did you have breakfast?" Milo asked finally, deciding the conversation had gone far enough for now.

Teo shook his head. "No. Salvatore dragged me here before I had time to eat."

Milo stood, brushing grass off his knees, his mind already working through what to do next.

"I will bring some food for you," he said. Then, more firmly, "I hope you will not help anyone come inside without Mr. Portello’s permission again. What if Felix had tried to kill him?"

Teo opened his mouth to argue, some protective instinct rising up on Felix’s behalf, but caught himself just in time, clamping a hand over his own mouth instead.

He had talked too much!

Milo hurried back inside, grabbed a plate of bread, egg, and a thick slice of cheese from the kitchen, and returned to find Teo still standing obediently by the tree, looking considerably more miserable than before.

He handed over the plate, and Teo ate quickly, gratefully, some color returning to his face with each bite.

He’d barely finished swallowing the last bite of egg when a shadow fell across them both.

Salvatore.

"Milo," he said calmly. "Did I tell you to come here and bring him food? He is being punished because he broke his promise. And I don’t like you interfering in this."

Milo straightened, guilt flashing across his face for only a second before he lifted his chin.

"I’m sorry. But what if he gets sick because of this? It’s very hot now."

"He’s being punished," Salvatore said.

Milo looked at Salvatore. "But... he’s a child. We can’t just leave him without breakfast."

Salvatore’s eyebrow rose slightly, clearly unimpressed by the argument, though something in his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely opposed to it either.

"So now you decide how I discipline my people?"

"No, Sir. I just... gave him some food," Milo muttered.

Salvatore studied him for a long moment, a faint, exasperated smile threatening at the corner of his mouth despite his best efforts to stay stern.

"Fine," he said finally. "Then you can stand here with him."

Milo’s arms dropped. "Oh... But, Sir... that’s not fair!"

"You interfered with his punishment," Salvatore said simply. "Now you share it."

Milo opened his mouth to argue further, but nothing sufficiently clever came to him fast enough, and Salvatore was already walking away, clearly satisfied with how the exchange had ended.

Milo huffed and stood still beside Teo, who was now grinning despite his earlier misery, clearly delighted to have company.

"Both of you stand here until lunch," Salvatore called back over his shoulder. "And Milo... be ready at three. We will go abroad today."

Milo’s head snapped up, his irritation momentarily forgotten. "Abroad?"

"We will go to Roderick’s place," Salvatore said, pausing to look back at him.

Teo’s whole face lit up instantly. "Can I come too? Please?"

"It’s not for a holiday," Salvatore said. "You will not come."

"But Milo will come with you," Teo protested, pouting hard.

"Yes," Salvatore said. "Because he has to come with us."

"So I want to come too!"

Salvatore’s expression shifted, something more serious settling over his face.

"No, Teo. You will stay here to protect the mansion. You are on a big mission."

Teo froze at that, his pout melting into something far more solemn. He straightened his small shoulders, considering the sudden weight of this new responsibility with visible seriousness.

If he was needed here, if Salvatore was actually trusting him with something important, then maybe this was his chance to prove himself again, to make up for everything.

"Okay!" Teo said firmly, nodding with newfound determination.

Salvatore allowed himself a small, satisfied smile, glancing briefly at Milo before turning to head back toward the mansion, leaving the two of them standing together beneath the tree.

At noon, Stella found them wilting under the tree, sweat sticking their shirts to their backs.

"Come on, you two," she called, waving them toward the house. "Lunch is ready. You’ve stood there long enough. Salvatore asked me to bring you back for lunch."

Teo perked up immediately at the mention of food, scrambling to his feet, but Milo moved more slowly, his joints stiff from standing for so long, his skin uncomfortably warm from the sun beating down through the branches all morning.

"I feel like I got baked," Teo muttered, fanning himself with his hand as they trudged back toward the mansion.

"You and me both," Milo said, wiping sweat from his forehead.

Inside, the dining room was blessedly cool with the AC. Salvatore’s usual seat sat empty, and Milo glanced at it briefly before taking his own place, some quiet disappointment settling in his chest, though he said nothing about it.

Teo, at least, was too focused on the plate of food in front of him to notice, already talking through a mouthful about his duty to take care of the mansion.

Milo just smiled at how easily the boy was pleased. Salvatore sure knew what he was doing.

After lunch, Milo excused himself and made his way to his room, standing in front of his open closet with no real idea what he was supposed to pack.

He didn’t know how long they’d be gone, didn’t know what kind of place they were even going to, and the uncertainty left him standing there for several long minutes, just staring at his clothes.

He finally started pulling things out at random: a couple of suits, a few casual shirts, folding them carefully into the bag lying open on his bed.

Then a knock sounded at the door, and Roderick stepped in, carrying a suitcase.

"No need to bring suits," Roderick said, setting it down and glancing at the half-packed bag with mild amusement. "Just bring some comfortable clothes. It’s very hot there."

Milo pulled the suits back out, setting them aside sheepishly. "How long will we be there?"

"I prepared the hotel and everything for two days," Roderick said, helping him refold a few shirts more efficiently than Milo had managed on his own.

Milo hesitated, watching him work. "Is it about me?"

"Yes," Roderick said, not looking up. "We need to see someone about your curse, or your ability. We’ll see after that."

Milo folded another shirt slowly, turning the question over in his mind before he asked it. "Do you think after that I will be safe around Mr. Portello?"

Roderick paused at that, his hands stilling over the suitcase for just a moment too long.

"I wish the best for you and Salvatore," he said finally, his voice quieter than usual.

Milo looked up at him properly then, and something in his chest tightened. Roderick looked paler, more drawn than he had yesterday.

"Sir," Milo said softly, "what do you feel right now?"

Roderick blinked, and for just a second, the mask slipped. He forced a small smile. "I’m fine," he said, zipping the suitcase shut a little too quickly.

"Salvatore doesn’t like me working. I have much free time."

Milo could sense the man was trying not to make him worry. But it only made him even sadder.

"We leave at three," Roderick said, straightening up and heading for the door. "Be ready."

"Yes," Milo said quietly, watching him go, the weight of everything Teo had told him that morning—Alben, the betrayal, and everything else—pressing down on him.

It was too much.