Chapter 156: Endless Trouble

Salvatore sighed. He looked at how peacefully Milo was sleeping.

He looked at Milo’s wrist and checked the rope. He touched it. The rope looked very strong. It wouldn’t break easily. He looked at how tightly Milo had tied it. It was impossible to release without cutting it.

"How strange is it? What do you feel? Do you feel anything different?" Salvatore asked curiously. He still hated the fact that Milo had "chosen" Roderick over himself.

Roderick sat down on the edge of the bed. "I feel annoyed. Uncomfortable."

Salvatore sighed. "You don’t feel like dying?"

"Thanks for reminding me. But I’m good. I don’t feel anything different."

"That’s good. You might really die if I cut the rope."

"It makes no difference to me. I’ll still die soon anyway."

Salvatore looked at Roderick. "You know, I won’t let you. That’s why I’ll keep you by my side."

"Really, thanks, but you make it sound creepy."

"I don’t care. I won’t let you out of the mansion. At all."

"I feel like a prisoner."

"I’m serious. I won’t let you go."

"I can’t anyway, especially with that kid tied to me. Oh, tell me I won’t be tied to him for the rest of my life. I need to enjoy my last days, seriously."

"Well, he said you need to stay tied together for many days."

"How long is ’many days’?"

"Who knows? Why didn’t you ask him?"

"Damn..."

Salvatore finally walked away and rang for room service to bring coffee to the room. It didn’t take long before they brought the coffee inside.

Milo stirred awake, blinking at both men in confusion. He had forgotten, for a moment, why his wrist was tied to Roderick’s.

He sat up. "Oh, good morning, sir."

He didn’t realize the two men were awake so early. Or maybe he was the one who had woken up very late.

"I’m sorry. I woke up late."

Salvatore brought the coffee to Roderick, then kissed Milo’s cheek. "Why do you need to be sorry? We have nothing to do here. You can wake up anytime you like."

Milo felt his cheeks turn red as Roderick sat beside him, but the man stayed focused on his coffee.

"How do we get dressed now?" Milo asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Good question," Roderick muttered, already eyeing the closet like it was a puzzle he didn’t have the patience to solve.

They tried to get their clothes, and neither of them had accounted for how difficult it was to step into trousers one-handed while attached to someone else by a meter of rope.

"Please hold still," Milo said, crouching to help Roderick get his foot through the pant leg.

"I can do it," Roderick said through gritted teeth, wobbling dangerously as he tried to balance on one leg.

"Sir, don’t fall!"

"Don’t pull my arm!"

Salvatore watched all of this from the edge of the sofa with his arms crossed, coffee in hand, his expression darkening by the second as Milo’s hands ended up bracing against Roderick’s bare thigh for balance.

"Don’t touch him," Salvatore said in a tone that made it clear he didn’t want Milo helping.

"I will not! Seriously!" Roderick said quickly, finally getting his foot through and yanking his pants up with visible relief. "We’re fine. Everyone relax."

Milo straightened, oblivious to the storm clouds gathering on Salvatore’s face, and turned to help Roderick put on his belt since his tethered wrist made the angle awkward. Salvatore’s jaw ticked with every second Milo’s fingers lingered near Roderick’s manhood.

"Are you almost done?" Salvatore said flatly.

"Yes," Milo said.

Now Roderick tried to do the same for Milo. But this time, Salvatore moved forward to help his little chicken put on his pants.

It was easier.

"Why didn’t you do it earlier?" Roderick protested.

"You can do it yourself."

"Tsk! You make me jealous now."

Now they had difficulty putting on their shirts. They ended up using fabric to cover their upper bodies like monks.

To make matters worse, Milo asked them to go to the zoo with their current situation.

"Oh, Milo, can’t we just stay here, have breakfast, and wait until it’s time to go home?" Roderick asked pleadingly.

"Sir, but we’re already here. I’ve never come here before."

And out of all the normal places to visit, Milo chose a zoo.

"Zoo? You have your own zoo in the mansion. Why do you need to see starved animals in cages?" Salvatore asked. "My zoo is much better than any zoo."

Milo pouted. He didn’t argue.

Salvatore sighed. "We go!"

Anyway, he sensed he had a problem saying no to his little chicken now.

"This is humiliating," Roderick muttered as they walked through the entrance gate. Many times he forgot he was tied to Milo, who walked slower than him.

"You’ll survive," Salvatore said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced himself, given the way he kept scanning the crowd as if every passing tourist might be a threat.

And he hated people. The crowd made him dizzy almost instantly.

People stared. It was impossible not to as two grown men walked with a rope stretched between them, dressed in monk-style clothing, trailed by a third man radiating enough quiet menace.

It was a strange sight. What kind of cult had they come from?

Even the ice cream vendor seemed to sell them their cones a little faster than necessary.

"Mommy, why are they tied together?" a small child asked loudly near the flamingo enclosure.

"I don’t know, sweetie. Don’t stare," the mother hissed, pulling the child along.

Milo, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered, dragging Roderick from exhibit to exhibit with the enthusiasm of someone determined to enjoy every last second of freedom outside the mansion.

He loved the zoo! He pointed excitedly at every animal they passed.

"Milo, we have much healthier tigers at home. And what is that? A hungry crocodile? They should feed him more often," Salvatore said.

"You don’t have elephants!" Milo pointed at the elephants far away from where they were standing.

"You want one? I can get it," Salvatore said proudly.

Milo didn’t care. He was simply happy to be there, feeding the animals and talking to them.

Salvatore trailed a step behind the entire time, arms crossed, grumbling under his breath about the elephants, the giraffes, and the overpriced popcorn, but never once suggested they leave.

At the big cat enclosure, Milo pressed close to the glass, delighted, and reached back without thinking to grab Salvatore’s hand and pull him closer to look.

Salvatore went instantly, his earlier grumbling forgotten the moment Milo’s fingers laced with his.

Roderick, still tethered a step behind, watched the two of them with a teasing smile.

"You’re disgustingly soft for a mob boss."

"Shut up," Salvatore said, though there was no bite in it at all.

By the time evening rolled around, they’d wandered into a small local bar near the hotel, tucked between two fishing shops, with string lights strung haphazardly across the ceiling.

Milo looked around as he noticed the guards, dressed in normal clothes, always walking nearby. They looked tired as well.

Milo ordered a soda, wrinkling his nose at the smell of the liquor menu, while Salvatore and Roderick settled in for something considerably stronger.

"What do you want, Milo?" Roderick asked.

"Just Coke, sir."

"Not drinking?"

"I can’t drink alcohol." He was so traumatized by alcohol because it always brought back bad memories. Just being around it made him feel like he was suffocating.

But he endured it.

Several rounds later, Salvatore had grown loose and warm. It was so strange. Milo had never seen the man drunk before.

Salvatore was quite interesting when he was drunk. He laughed too easily at something Roderick said, leaning heavily against the bar.

Salvatore didn’t realize he had drunk too much. His brain wanted to shut down. He thought this was a safe place where he could finally let his guard down.

And yes, luckily, it was safe.

Roderick was thinking the same thing. That’s why he didn’t say anything when Salvatore drank too much. Even he himself felt a bit dizzy, but he tried not to get drunk.

"You know," Roderick said, gesturing vaguely with his tethered hand and nearly knocking over his glass, "we need to get back now."

"Get back where?" Salvatore slurred slightly, and both of them dissolved into laughter that made absolutely no sense to Milo, who sipped his soda and watched them fondly, grateful for once that he didn’t drink alcohol.

By the time they stumbled out to the waiting car, Salvatore was heavily drunk while Roderick was half-drunk, both leaning on each other and on Milo in turns.

The guards helped load all three of them into the back seat.

"Back to the hotel," one guard murmured to another, and the convoy pulled away from the curb.

Back in the hotel room, Salvatore’s hands found Milo the moment the door clicked shut, pulling him in with none of his usual restraint, his lips crashing against Milo’s with clumsy, drunken enthusiasm.

"Sir—" Milo said in shock, trying to keep his balance as Salvatore backed him toward the bed.

"No," Roderick said immediately, holding up his free hand, still tethered and now being dragged along in Salvatore’s wake. "No, not in front of me."

Salvatore ignored him entirely, too far gone to understand the protest, his hands sliding along Milo’s jaw as he kept kissing him... except somewhere in the shuffle, the rope had twisted them all around, and Salvatore, eyes half-closed, reached blindly and pulled Roderick instead.

Roderick froze in horror as Salvatore’s lips landed squarely on his.

"NO—" Roderick shoved him back hard, sputtering, wiping frantically at his mouth with his free hand. "No, no! Damn! Get away from me!"

Salvatore blinked, swaying slightly, squinting at him in genuine confusion.

"...Milo?"

"I am NOT Milo!" Roderick shouted, scrambling backward as far as the rope allowed, which was not far at all. "Milo is RIGHT THERE, you drunk idiot!"

Milo gulped nervously. His eyes widened as Salvatore was really wild right now. His lips were already red.

Salvatore squinted between the two of them for a long, bleary moment, clearly trying to do math his brain currently had no capacity for.

"...Oh," he said finally.

"Oh," Roderick repeated flatly. "That’s all you have to say? ’Oh.’"

"You taste like an old man," Salvatore said, frowning.

"WE are old."

Milo just giggled, trying to get away as far as he could. He didn’t want Salvatore to devour him there, in front of Roderick.

"This," Roderick announced to the ceiling, his voice thick with despair, "is officially the worst night of my life."

Salvatore, meanwhile, had turned his attention back to Milo, apparently having sorted out the correct target at last, and crawled onto the bed after him with renewed determination.

"Absolutely not," Roderick said, yanking back on the rope with what remained of his strength. "If I’m attached to him, you are not doing whatever you’re about to do while I’m sitting right here."

Salvatore paused, glancing down at the rope binding Roderick to Milo’s wrist, then back up at Roderick’s mortified face. Some small flicker of drunken logic finally worked its way through.

"...Right," he said. "Bathroom. We’ll use the bathroom."

"ABSOLUTELY NOT."

Milo panicked when Salvatore tried to lift him up. "Siiir!"