The Prisoner

Minsk, Belarus.

The loud bang against the metal caused the sound to reverberate loudly in these shabby alleyways. One by one, helpless humans began to lie on the cold floor while waiting for death to pick up.

Marco kept walking until he finally stopped when a hand appeared behind bars. He stared at the skinny hand coldly with no expression at all.

"P-please save me—"

A guard swiftly attacked the prisoner to get his hands off Marco's ankles. There was a heartbreaking scream, but Marco wasn't his name if he cared about the prisoner's fate.

A pair of beads were glued to the corner of the corridor. There was a room with only one person in it. This is the peak of his duties this year—his last assignment before officially retiring.

Accompanied by two burly bodyguards, Marco began to tilt his head, signaling to bring out the person behind bars.

Marco's gaze didn't move from the figure, and he continued to stare at the thin body sitting down while hiding her face behind in long hair.

A guard who was ordered to enter began to touch the figure, like an eagle, the figure who was sure to be asleep immediately grabbed Marco's bodyguard's hand. Then, she quickly spun around from her original seat while successfully choking the bodyguard's neck with her slender arms.

Marco's smile broke. It turned out that the trip here was not in vain. The woman whose back was lit with the moonlight began to make him believe that the reason the young Master had ordered him to pick her up was the right thing.

"Well, it's pretty amazing to see a woman locked up for months in this shabby prison but still has the power to strangle one of my best bodyguards."

The woman let go of her stranglehold. Marco nodded to his other bodyguards to quickly grab the woman. There's not much time left. The conversation will continue after getting out of this horrible place.

There were bangs, groans, and even broken bones—who didn't know who it belonged to—until finally, the two struggling bodyguards managed to apprehend this dangerous woman. It made him faint for a moment.

"Get out of here before that guy comes back after us."

Manhattan, Milverton's Family.

"It's a shame that Marco decided to quit his job, to stop serving the Milvertons."

The atmosphere in the morning felt, as usual, boring. Have breakfast with all family members while occasionally throwing sarcasm at anyone who makes a small mistake.

Miller, the elder in this house and the owner of the largest property company in Uncle Sam's country. He is a very calm person with a tall and charming stature even though he is not young anymore. If asked what his secret was, he would not hesitate to answer; a fit and healthy body come from the smell of money.

What a useless answer.

He also has a unique sense of humor, not forgetting to add sarcasm that makes eyebrows drop sharply when he hears it.

Not a single one managed to escape Miller's sight. The older man looked at all his descendants while eating his favorite peanut butter toast. "The morning was quite gloomy. Is that expression normal to show at breakfast?" he quipped.

Jeremy—the third child, immediately cleared his throat. "Sorry, Father. We didn't mean to offend you."

Miller shook his head slowly, focusing on the bread in his hand. "Come on. This morning I don't want to spoil your mood. There's one thing I want to say," he continued.

There are approximately ten people in this dining room with forced faces written on each owner. Jeremy, his wife, and two children don't like the 'ritual' every morning. There was Thomas as the first child with his two children, and finally, Arthur, with his wife and only child, waited for the grandfather to continue his sentence.

Everyone stared at Miller without any intention of continuing with their respective breakfasts, intrigued by what Grandpa would have to say until it took up so much time in the morning.

"Inheritance, it's about the division of inheritance."

No one spoke. They just stared at each other as if reading the thoughts of the people on the side. As the eldest son, Thomas immediately rebuked his father, "it's better to talk about it when we're relaxed, dad. Besides, why talk about it when you're healthy?"

Flicking his hands in the air as if he thought Thomas's words were trivial, Miller put the jam knife beside the plate, folded his arms, and looked at all his descendants individually.

That's when his smile broke out. While everyone was focused on Miller, one person seemed indifferent to it, not caring.

At the end of the dining table, Oliver was focused on the fat omelet he had for breakfast this morning, cutting it slowly and then popping it into his mouth, not taking his eyes off one bit.

"Well, well. It turns out we have one prince here."

All eyes immediately turned to Oliver. However, instead of feeling offended, the man glanced at Miller and reached for the glass on the side.

"Sorry, but I have no interest in discussing inheritance matters."

Arthur, who heard that, immediately whispered to stop Oliver, but he didn't care about his father. Looking back at Miller, who was still smiling, Oliver rose from his seat and bowed slightly. "Thanks for breakfast, grandpa. I'm sorry."

There was a faint growl behind him. Oliver didn't care because he knew that only his father seemed annoyed with his behavior just now. Taking his formal black suit, Oliver went straight to the car parked in the mansion's courtyard, got inside, and started driving his car down the street.

The car he drives is very sophisticated today. He need not be concerned about mishaps because the features are flawless even though they are yet to be evaluated.

Oliver's car is the latest release from his company, unveiled in two months.

Oliver's thoughts were interrupted when the smartphone he was leaning against the steering wheel vibrated, Marco's name on it. Without waiting a second, he immediately swiped the screen to answer Marco's call. To be honest, since last week she had been waiting to hear from this man.

"It's with me. Tell me how the team is doing now, Marco."

[We are already on our way to the secret place you mean, Master. See you there.]

Hearing the good news, Oliver stepped on the pedal deeply. The morning spirit that had faded has now reappeared.

"OLIVER!"

Arthur couldn't stop his son from leaving. He couldn't even save face in front of this family member. Meanwhile, Arthur and his wife were embarrassed again when Miller burst out laughing.

"Oliver is an exciting type of human. Watch him grow up without anyone's help."

Arthur slowly sat back down. This morning it was his turn to get harsh words from his father.

Miller leaned forward to speak to Arthur, looking down in silence. "That's right, Oliver, is clear evidence of your guilt, Arthur."

***

When she opened eyes for the first time, she felt extraordinary dizziness that hit her mind, and she groaned in pain when she realized that her hands were tied. Damn, she thought as she continued to curse the person who made her like this.

Blinking a few times so that her vision is clear again, the pain in the area of her hands hurts. Sighing in despair, finally, she can't help but bow her head back on the table.

The faint sound of someone's voice outside the room, no matter how hard he tried, his curiosity was overcome by pain.

The iron door creaked as it opened. From a distance of about two meters, he could see who was coming to meet him. Of course, that figure must be a person of power. It can be felt in his aura, scent, and gait.

Oliver stopped when he saw the figure of a woman lying on the table with a wet head. Unfortunately, Marco was currently taking care of other things, so he couldn't help but have to deal with this dirty figure.

"Looks like Marco is starting to look down on me. How can you talk to a dying person like this?" growled Oliver.

Unexpectedly Marco was already in the same room as Oliver, and he bowed respectfully when their gazes met. "Sorry, Mister. It's challenging to kidnap prisoners from a country far enough away, and also, I don't have time to—"

"Sit down."

Marco was silent. He saw three bodyguards behind him faithfully guarding, closing the door slowly. His steps began to follow where Oliver was sitting quietly.

As long as he stared at the brunette woman Oliver was silent, didn't speak at all or do anything to make at least the woman in front of him would be willing to utter a word.

But no, the room was hushed. Only three chairs had been occupied and a small lamp to light between them.

"Wash her."

Without waiting long, Marco nodded and then dragged the bucket to the corner of the room, throwing the contents in it until the woman who was originally drooping gasped and got up from her slumber.

"Well, good afternoon, Miss Jo Rumi."

Oliver smiled at the sad sight he was witnessing right now. Moreover, seeing Rumi's face, which was full of bruises and scars, showed how much this woman struggled not to be dragged here.

Jo Rumi, who was initially unconscious, immediately trembled as soon as he woke up and saw Oliver. Not a single person did not know how cruel the figure in front of him was. While neutralizing his cold body, Rumi immediately gave Oliver a sharp look. This time, he wasn't allowed to live anymore.

Truly terrible, Rumi thought as he carefully examined Oliver's innocently clean face. The type of human who has the brains to plan a murder, that's what Rumi heard about this guy.

"You look shocked. How are you? How were your days in prison?" asked Oliver crossing his arms over his chest. It's not without reason that Oliver behaves like this, let alone his time running out as time goes by. There are things he must finish soon.

However, things weren't as easy as he thought. Rumi didn't want to talk to make himself a little angry. He put his hands together and then leaned forward, looking at Rumi, who seemed pensive. From his gaze, Oliver could feel a gaping wound, a look full of injuries.

"You're free to say whatever you want, Rumi. Before that, I'm sorry for your husband's death."

Rumi's tears flowed without hesitation when he said those words, causing the woman to close her eyes. This kind of atmosphere is very disliked by Oliver, where he has to use someone's emotions. Seeing Rumi, who looked down and rubbed her face with hands tied, Oliver got up from his seat, and he felt it was not the time to talk about something this serious to a fragile woman.

Saying no more, Oliver closed the metal door, leaving Rumi alone. Behind him was Marco getting ready to go, but before that, Oliver felt there was something he needed to hear from Marco's explanation.

"It just so happens that today I don't have other schedules. We can talk about it while heading to my office."

Marco looked down, then opened the door for Oliver. Before leaving, Marco looked at the small house in the forest, researching before leaving so that nothing troublesome would happen later.

Even though the guards guarding the house had unwavering integrity, Marco's instincts still told him that he had to be careful every step of the way. Then he started to get in the car and sat at the steering wheel, preparing to head for Oliver's company building.