CHAPTER 101: THE GOLDEN GOOSE! 1

Time blurred into something Rin could barely hold onto.

Days bled into weeks, weeks folded into months, and before he knew it, two whole years had passed since he’d torn himself free from Duke Evan Vortellion’s chains. Two years since the Vortellions had last heard the sharp, defiant bite of his voice. Two years since he’d vanished into the shadows of the capital, leaving only whispers and rumours in his wake.

Two years were enough to change a lot. Rin had grown taller, his silver hair longer, his delicate features sharper, more striking. The Pleasure District had moulded him, hardened him, but it hadn’t broken him. Yet at the Vortellion estate, some things remained stubbornly the same... cold, unyielding, and dripping with ambition.

Vortellion Estate: The Duke’s Office

The Duke’s office was a fortress of order, its walls lined with dark oak shelves heavy with books and scrolls. Papers were stacked neatly on the desk, illuminated by a single mana lamp that cast a cold, blue glow. Evan Vortellion sat at the centre, his quill scratching across parchment with methodical precision. The faint scent of ink hung in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of polished leather. His posture was perfect, his black coat immaculate, but the rhythmic tap of his finger against the desk betrayed a simmering irritation.

The door creaked open, and a tall man in the Vortellion family uniform stepped inside, his presence as cold and shadowy as the estate itself. His face would have been forgettable—plain features, short-cropped hair—if not for the black eye patch covering his left eye, a stark reminder of his failure two years ago. He stood rigid, his single eye fixed on the floor.

Evan didn’t bother lifting his gaze.

"Well?" he asked, his voice smooth but edged with impatience.

The enforcer bowed stiffly, his jaw tight. "My lord... I failed."

Evan’s quill froze mid-stroke. Slowly, he leaned back in his chair, his sharp grey eyes sliding toward the man. "Failed?" The word was soft, almost gentle, but it carried a weight that made the air feel heavier.

"Yes," the enforcer said, his voice steady but strained. "I tried every method, every angle. The house is locked tighter than a treasury vault. No leaks, no loose tongues. No one dares speak about it outside its walls."

Evan’s lips curled into a smirk, though his eyes glinted with a dangerous sharpness. "And yet the entire capital hums with rumours about it." He tapped his quill against the desk, the sound sharp and deliberate. "That brothel. The most blooming, coveted place in the city. A den where Alphas pour gold as if it were water."

His lip curled further, a hint of disdain creeping into his voice.

"And still, you bring me nothing?"

The enforcer clenched his jaw, his single eye flickering with frustration. "Forgive me, my lord."

Evan stood, graceful but predatory, and walked toward the tall window overlooking the estate grounds. The afternoon light painted his profile in shades of gold and shadow, his black hair catching the glow like polished obsidian. He spoke slowly, almost to himself. "Two years ago, that brothel was barely a name. Now it is a fortress, a stage where every powerful Alpha wants to play. Millions of coins poured into its walls... and not a single whisper leaves it."

He turned, his eyes piercing the enforcer like a blade.

"Do you know what that means?"

The enforcer hesitated, his throat bobbing.

"That its master is... skilled."

"Skilled?" Evan chuckled, the sound low and cold, like ice cracking. "More than skilled. Whoever controls that house is no mere merchant. They’ve woven loyalty with chains stronger than steel. I want to know who they are."

Silence stretched, thick and tense. Evan strode back to his desk, his boots clicking against the polished floor. He pulled open a drawer and withdrew a gilded envelope, its paper refined, its edges lined with intricate patterns of gold leaf. He held it between two fingers, the invitation gleaming like a lure in the dim light.

"Deliver this to the brothel’s master," he ordered, handing it to the enforcer. "A courtesy... from House Vortellion. Let’s see if politeness unlocks more than force."

The enforcer bowed, accepting the envelope with a steady hand, though his knuckles whitened around it. As he turned to leave, Evan’s voice halted him.

"And Lucien?" Evan’s tone carried the faintest note of amusement, like a cat toying with its prey.

The enforcer paused, tightening his grip on the invitation. "Still in the palace, my lord. He has sent a request to increase his knighthood by another year."

Evan smirked, his eyes glinting with something dark and knowing. "Of course. He can’t bear to set foot in this estate because of his father. He’s the perfect son, but chained to duty outside these walls. How amusing."

With a wave of dismissal, Evan turned back to his desk, his quill resuming its steady scratch.

The enforcer left, closing the heavy door behind him. Once outside, he leaned his back against the wood, his breath hissing through clenched teeth. His single eye burned as he stared down at the gold invitation, its weight heavier than it should have been. The pain returned—a searing, familiar throb where his left eye used to be. His hand rose unconsciously, fingertips brushing the jagged scar hidden beneath the eye patch.

Two years ago, the Duke’s dagger had plunged into his eye, infused with mana that burned like fire. It had been punishment... punishment for letting Rin slip through his fingers, for failing to keep the omega locked up. The pain never left, a constant reminder of his failure.

His jaw tightened, nails digging into his palm until blood welled. "That brat..." he hissed under his breath, his voice trembling with rage. "If I see him again, I’ll rip him apart myself."

Clutching the invitation, he strode down the corridor, his vow etched deeper with every step. But as he walked, a flicker of doubt crept into his mind. The brothel was no ordinary place. Its master... whoever they were... had built something impenetrable. But it doesn’t matter. As long as the Vortellion head has his eyes locked in that place, he’ll get it no matter what.