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In the dimly lit confinement of a small, steel-reinforced cage, Oliver huddled against the biting cold, his
brow furrowed in frustration. He peered through the bars at the shadowy figure lurking outside—Ian, his
cloak a dark swirl against the night. “Come on, Ian, can you actually deliver? Did you track down your
sweetheart yet?” Oliver’s voice carried a mix of irritation and urgency. Ian adjusted his cloak,
concealing his eyes once more. “Almost there,” he murmured, the vagueness of his reply hanging in
the air. Oliver plopped down on the cold ground, his backside growing numb. “Ian, I’m in this mess
because of you. You’ve got the Porter family seal now. You can rally some support. So why all the dilly-
dallying?” Leaning against the wall, Ian allowed himself a small chuckle, reflecting on the fallen state of
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtthe young master before him. Oliver was not as naïve as he appeared; his insight into people’s true
nature was sharp, a trait that had led him to bet his entire fortune on Ian. The night they met, Ian had
painted a picture of the world beyond, convincing Oliver to make a decision. He yearned to escape
Forbidden Island, a place where his sexual-orientation made him an object of scorn. Yet he knew the
outside world was vast, there must be somewhere he could belong. As the heir to the Porter family,
remaining unmarried would subject him to vilification. If his orientation were exposed, it could even cost
him his life. “Forbidden Island isn’t exactly the land of the free,” Ian commented, his voice low. “You
mean BLACK, the guy who’s been dealing with the families behind the scenes? He’s a chameleon—
sometimes an old man, sometimes a woman, other times a young lad. No one knows what he really
looks like. But he’s ruthless. Anyone who’s seen
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his face is likely sleeping with the fishes. Finding this guy is going to be tough,” Oliver said, chin
propped on his hand as he sat on the ground. Ian adjusted his hood. “BLACK is probably from some
research facility, a low-level pawn, expendable. Taking his place wasn’t hard.” Oliver glanced at Ian and
chuckled. “Easy for some, maybe, but not everyone’s got the guts.” Footsteps echoed from outside,
and a door swung open. A man entered, bowing to Ian before turning to Oliver, his face twisting into a
snarl. “Where the hell is the family seal, Oliver? If you don’t cough it up, by the time your grandpa gets
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here, you’ll be legless.” Oliver casually cleaned his ear, feigning indifference. “I tossed that trinket
around for fun. You’ll probably never find it.” The man, a member of the Porter family, glared furiously.
“You’d better keep up that tough talk until I snap your legs.” Leaning back, Oliver patted his legs. “Go
on, try me. Break them if you can.” Nobody dared hurt Oliver, not until Ralap gave the word. But the
real issue was the family seal that Oliver had hidden. It was a symbol of power. The hidden forces of
the Porter family would only heed the holder of the seal. Ralap had passed the seal to Oliver, and now
with it missing, they needed to find it and have Oliver pass it on before he could be disposed of.
Otherwise, those shadowy forces would be left without a leader.
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