Milo followed Salvatore and Alben through the long, quiet hallways of the mansion. He tried not to pay attention to the uncomfortable feeling in his chest. It was really annoying.

Who was Mr. Bogli? The name sounded like an old man, perhaps a prisoner or an eccentric relative Salvatore kept hidden away. Why would they need to feed him?

Milo felt a cold shiver, his imagination was running wild. In the Hartley mansion, Nero’s "pets" were often people who had failed him. Milo wondered if he was about to meet someone who had been broken long ago.

Milo looked at Salvatore and Alben, who were talking so intently they had forgotten about him.

He looked at Salvatore, still unable to believe that just a minute ago, that man had held him with such tenderness. His heart raced at the thought.

His large hand, so warm and comforting.

Milo swallowed hard and looked down.

What was he thinking?

They reached the kitchen area. Salvatore didn’t stop. He picked up a large stainless steel bowl sitting on the counter. It was filled to the brim with raw chicken breasts and chunks of red meat. The smell of blood was strong.

"Bring this," Salvatore said. He held the bowl out toward Milo.

Milo took it. The bowl was heavy, and the weight made his arms shake. He looked at the raw meat with a confused expression. He didn’t understand. Was he supposed to cook this? Or did this Mr. Bogli eat like an animal?

"Mr. Bogli will eat this?" Milo asked, his voice very small.

Alben laughed at Milo’s confusion, a sharp sound that echoed in the hallway. "He’ll eat you if he wants."

Milo gulped. 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝒆𝔀𝒆𝙗𝓷𝒐𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝒄𝓸𝓶

Salvatore didn’t explain. He simply turned and walked toward the back exit of the mansion. Milo followed, clutching the heavy bowl against his stomach.

As they walked outside, the morning air hit Milo’s face. It was fresh and cool. They passed the small stone building where the bakery was located. Milo looked up at the chimney he had cleaned just the day before. It felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

They walked further into the estate, past a tall wooden gate. When Salvatore pushed it open, Milo’s eyes widened. He saw a long row of wooden stalls.

Inside were massive, beautiful horses. Their coats were shiny, black, brown, and white. Milo had never seen a horse in real life before, this close.

He knew Nero was rich, but Salvatore’s wealth felt different. He stared at them in awe.

The horses made low noises as they passed. Some of them poked their heads over the stall doors. Salvatore slowed down for a moment. He reached out and rubbed the forehead of a large black horse. His hand moved gently over the animal’s mane.

Milo watched him. It was strange to see those same hands, which had held a gun and killed men, be so gentle with a horse. Ah, he had just felt those soft, gentle hands too.

Milo felt his cheeks flush.

One of the brown horses leaned toward Milo and made a soft huffing sound near his ear. Milo winced, but then he looked into the horse’s large, dark eyes. It looked like it was smiling at him.

Milo made a small, awkward face back at it. He felt silly, but he couldn’t help it. Well, he should greet anyone who greets him, right?

"Are you going to enter them in the race this year?" Alben asked, looking at the horses.

"Yes," Salvatore replied. "I’ll have Ramon ready this year. As for the rest, I just got them this month. I want them to get used to the place before I do anything with them."

Alben nodded. "You’re building this place up pretty fast. At this rate, you’ll have your own zoo soon."

Salvatore let out a short, quiet laugh.

They left the horse stalls and walked into a wide, open field. The grass was trimmed perfectly. Milo saw several workers in the distance, cleaning the area and fixing the fences. They all stopped what they were doing to bow or wave toward Salvatore.

Salvatore just greeted them back but didn’t stop to talk, he kept a fast pace.

They walked for a long time until they reached a separate area surrounded by a high, thick iron fence. Inside the fence was a large cage made of thick iron bars. It looked like something from a movie about wild animals.

Milo swallowed hard. He looked at the cage, and then his eyes caught movement inside. In the corner of the cage, lying on a pile of straw, was a tiger. It was a massive white tiger with sharp black stripes.

It was beautiful, but it was also the most terrifying thing Milo had ever seen.

"That is Mr. Bogli," Salvatore said. He stopped at the gate and looked at Milo. "Give the meat to him."

Milo felt the blood drain from his face. His hands started to shake so much that the meat in the bowl shifted.

"T-that tiger?"

Salvatore nodded. He reached for the latch on the iron gate and pulled it open.

Milo stared at him, his mouth open. "Are you serious? You want me to go in... there?"

"Yes, of course," Salvatore said. His voice was flat and matter-of-fact. "He has to eat every day. It’s better if you’re not late feeding him. He gets grumpy when he’s hungry."

Milo’s throat felt tight. "Well... I... I just need to put the bowl inside? Right on the edge?"

Salvatore nodded again.

Milo took a deep breath. He tried to tell himself that he could do this. He had survived Nero for thirteen years. He had survived whips, needles, and a cold marble floor.

A tiger was just an animal. He tried to move his legs, forcing them to be strong. He walked into the cage, his bare feet stepping onto the dry grass inside.

He intended to just drop the bowl and run. But as soon as he was three steps inside, he heard a loud clang.

Milo spun around. Salvatore had shut the iron gate.

Milo’s eyes went wide. He let the bowl slip slightly but caught it before the meat fell. He saw Salvatore standing outside the bars, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked perfectly calm.

"S-sir...?" Milo’s voice was high-pitched and panicked.

He stood close to the bars, trembling, looking at Salvatore with the gaze of someone who felt betrayed. He looked like a lost child who had just been left behind by his family.

"Sir! Why did you close it? Open it, please!" His face was pale.

"Give it to him," Salvatore sighed. He didn’t move.

Milo turned his head. The white tiger was no longer lying on the straw. It had stood up.

"Damn! Sir! He’s coming!!" Milo screamed.