Marcus was seated on a black leather sofa, his upper body bare, his muscular form on full display. His clothing lay nearby.

Harlan’s eyes narrowed as he examined Marcus’ wounded arm.

“Your injury is more severe than I anticipated.”

He had been dispatched by Victor to assess Marcus’ condition.

“It’s been poisoned by Bloody Herb,” he continued, sitting opposite Marcus, hands resting on his knees.

“We haven’t yet developed a treatment. You’ll have to endure it for now. You may need to remain on Raven Island for a while. You’re well aware of the complexity of Bloody Herb.”

Marcus remained silent as Derek approached to dress the wound. The festering injury and surrounding skin were a gruesome sight. Derek’s face betrayed his revulsion as he bandaged the wound with the utmost care.

a glass with brandy

on

a cliff. You were the one who reached out without hesitation,

inhaled deeply, his face betraying

a feeling

conceal his injury from her. Even during their more intimate moments, he would keep a shirt on. A memory surfaced of his youth, a time when he excelled in all his school subjects while

a model airplane. As he was about to give it to Bruce,

Angela’s Library

had been filled with a

be overshadowed by Marcus. Bruce’s father,

to wealth and success, he harbored ambitious plans to take control

shirt, vest, and overcoat, then stepped out onto

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