Inside the office, Alben let out a long breath and sank into the sofa across from Salvatore’s desk. He stretched his legs out in front of him, completely at ease, the way he always was after stirring up a room.

"Why are you so protective?" he said. "I was just playing with the kid."

Salvatore didn’t sit down. He stood by the desk with his arms crossed, staring at the door Milo had just walked through. He slowly turned his head toward Alben.

"Seriously, Ben." His voice was flat. "I’m just teaching him to value himself, that he has the right to say no. And you walked in treating him like a toy. You almost ruined everything."

Alben raised an eyebrow. "I barely touched him!"

"Because I didn’t let you touch him," Salvatore mocked. "He’s not like everyone else. Don’t scare him."

Alben waved one hand in the air. "Okay, okay. It’s not like I was about to kill him."

He leaned back further. "You know he has to get used to people too. You can’t protect him like he’s a child. That isn’t doing him any favors either."

"No," Salvatore said. "More importantly, I need to keep you away from him."

Alben stared at him for a second. Then he laughed, a short, genuine laugh.

"Bastard." He shook his head. "You really won’t let me have any fun."

Salvatore said nothing. He walked back to his desk and picked up the folder he had been working on before any of this had started. He opened it.

"Tonight," he said. "You remove the rings. That is all. Nothing else."

Alben stood, smoothing the front of his jacket. He still had the look of a man who found everything mildly entertaining. "Fine. By the way, look what I’ve got." He moved toward the door. "Come on!"

Salvatore looked up. "What is it?"

"I got a new model for the gun. Let’s try it!"

Salvatore watched as Alben left the room before setting down his folder and following.

***

That Night. Milo’s Room.

Milo sat on the edge of the bed in his pajama bottoms and a loose shirt, both hands folded in his lap.

He had eaten dinner, and now he felt so full. But he was also so nervous that he felt like he might vomit. Teo had told him that Alben would come to his room later to remove the rings. He should be ready.

So now he sat and waited.

He pressed his palms flat against his knees and told himself to breathe normally.

He thought about Nero. The cold floors. The rooms with ropes everywhere. The pain he used to endure. The memories of what had happened to him in those rooms.

This wasn’t that. Whatever tonight was, it wasn’t that.

He shouldn’t worry.

Calm down... Milo. No one here intends to hurt you.

That thought helped, a little.

He leaned back against the headboard and looked at the ceiling. The room was warm. The sheets were clean. There was no sound from outside except the distant, low hum of the building settling.

Nothing could be worse than Nero. He had survived that monster. He would survive anything.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally heard a knock.

Alben opened the door without waiting for an answer, a big smile on his face. He was carrying a flat black case about the size of a large book. He was wearing a different shirt now, untucked, and he looked so excited that it made Milo even more nervous.

"Still awake?" Alben said pleasantly. He set the case down on the small table beside the bed and opened it.

Inside was a set of small tools laid out on dark foam: thin forceps, a small curved needle-nose tool, a bottle of antiseptic, cotton pads, and two pairs of gloves.

Alben pulled on one glove, then the other. He snapped them into place at his wrists with the ease of someone who had done this before.

"Lift your shirt," he said. "Don’t be afraid, I’m used to this."

Milo pulled the hem of his shirt up and held it bunched under his chin. The light in the room caught the two small golden rings. The skin around them had settled since the first few days; the worst of the swelling was gone, but it was still tender.

Alben sat on the edge of the bed beside him and leaned forward to look. He didn’t reach out immediately. He examined both sides carefully first, his eyes precise and unhurried.

"Still painful?" he asked.

"Not really," Milo said.

"Is it okay if I remove them now?"

Milo nodded.

"Whoever did this, he’s a professional. I like his work." He picked up the small curved forceps. "The closure is a press-fit bead. I’ll release the bead first, then the ring will open. Hold still."

Milo nodded. He stared at the wall. He clenched his fist involuntarily.

"Don’t be scared, okay?"

Milo nodded, taking a deep breath as Alben instructed.

That man looked so different from the one he had met that afternoon. This Alben was calm and reassuring.

Alben worked on the first one. The forceps gripped the small ball closure and applied careful pressure, separating it from the ring.

Milo felt the metal shift against the piercing and a sharp, brief flash of pain.

He flinched. His hand rose instinctively but then stopped, hovering just above the spot without touching it.

"I know," Alben said. He didn’t slow down. He gently freed the ring and placed it on the cotton pad. He pressed a clean pad gently against the spot and held it there for a moment.

"The second one will be the same," he warned.

Milo pressed his lips together. He nodded again.

The second ring was harder. The skin had started to heal slightly around the closure, and Alben had to reposition the tool twice.

Each adjustment sent a small pulse of pain through Milo’s chest. His eyes watered once, and he blinked it back.

Then it was out.

Milo let out a short breath.

Alben held the second pad against the piercing and applied steady pressure. He glanced up at Milo’s face.

"Done," he said.

Milo exhaled slowly. He hadn’t realized how tightly he had been holding his breath.

Alben cleaned both spots carefully, the antiseptic feeling cold against the skin. He worked without comment. His hands were steady and practiced, and he didn’t make it any worse than it needed to be.

"They’ll be sore for a few days," he said, pressing fresh cotton against each side briefly. "Don’t let anything rub against them. No tight shirts. Tell Salvatore you need to wear loose clothes."

"Yes... thank you so much, Sir," Milo said quietly.

Alben put the tools back in the case and snapped it shut. He pulled off the gloves and set them aside.

Then he looked at Milo for a moment, his head tilted slightly. He smiled.

"Now," he said, "let me see you."

Milo slowly pulled down his shirt. He studied Alben carefully, trying to understand the change in tone. Maybe this man would test him the way Salvatore sometimes seemed to.

Salvatore had made it clear he didn’t want Milo undressed in front of others. But he was only wearing pajamas now. There was nothing left to take off except those.

"Sorry?" Milo said.

"Take off your clothes."