Dear Ex-wife Marry Me by Twin Bridge

As lan and Oliver were left alone, the tension in the room was palpable.

Ralap, a man known for his caution, had stationed guards outside of lan's dwelling since the night before.

It was a charade of protection that thinly veiled his true intentions—surveillance. Ralap was after the medicine, a valuable

commodity in their cutthroat world. Now that it was gone, his unease was evident, yet he knew better than to lay a finger on lan.

As soon as the door closed, Oliver stood up, and brushed off the invisible dust from his jeans in a gesture of readiness.

"So, lan, when are we making our move?" he asked, the casual tone belying the gravity of their situation.

lan's gaze drifted toward the window; dusk was only a few hours away. He had deliberately leaked his location to the hounds who

were baying for his blood. It didn't take a genius to figure out they were under K's command.

K's influence seemed to have spread even here. Undoubtedly, K was holding back for sreason—if not, they would have been

wiped off the map with a single bomb, rather than this elaborate hunt within the island's confines.

But tonight, K's men would come. And when they did, amidst the clash with Ralap's forces, lan and Oliver would slip away to find

Maja.

Oliver didn't wait for an answer; he knew the pattern of their conversations well enough. Together, they silently bid their time.

Two hours later, the calm was shattered by the distant sound of gunfire. Ralap sat erect in the parlor, sipping his tea. Upon hearing

the shots, he turned to his most trusted aide.

"Go check what's happening."

But before the aide could move, the sporadic gunfire turned into a cacophony of chaos.

"Boss, I'll cover you. We need to get out of here," the aide insisted as Ralap's expression soured. Had his enemies dared to

encroach upon Middle Island so brazenly?

"Damn it, who's got the gall to cause such a ruckus on Middle Island?" Ralap muttered angrily. "Take Oliver with you back to Inner

Island. | need to consult with the other families. We must deal with this external threat as one."

The intruders' audacity posed a direct threat to the resources of Inner Island's ruling families. They had to eradicate them just like

they planned for lan.

"Understood, boss."

"And contact the Elder; tell him we have an urgent report."

The 'Elder' was Quentin, a man revered by the families. Quentin was much more than a collaborator like BLACK to them; he was

almost sacrosanct, because he held the keys to all of Forbidden Island's surveillance, and therefore he was privy to every secret.

The Elder set the rules that governed Forbidden Island for centuries, and his word was law. Now, with the island's security

potentially at stake, they turned to him for guidance.

Meanwhile, Quentin was already aware that K's men had made their move. He had expected a confrontation with K upon leaving

Forbidden Island, but the assault was launched in the Forbidden Island, which was a blatant disregard for all the island's laws.

"What's gotten into him?" Quentin mused darkly, wiping the blood from his face.

"Deploy all our island forces, and eliminate K's men."

If K was mad enough to take things this far, Quentin was ready to meet the challenge head-on.

"Mr. Gellar, K's forces cby helicopter. At least thirty have been sighted so far," reported an aide.

"A bold move," Quentin noted. "Find out if anything else has happened within the organization besides the capture of the Third

Elder."

Communication with the organization had been lost since morning, and it was likely that K's men had seized the other Elders as

well.

Quentin's frown deepened. "Forget it then. Just fight. | want to see if K has the guts to destroy the entire island!"

Off the coast of Forbidden Island, a fleet of massive ships lay in wait. Philip lounged on the deck of one, swirling a glass of whiskey

as he watched helicopters swarm above.

The surrounding waters were under lockdown; no vessel would pass by for days, so their operations would remain clandestine.

Even if he obliterated the island, he would make it escaping the international scrutiny.

But he had no such intention. The island harbored Maja, lan, and the Holy Daughter. His agents at the Mental Hospital of South

District had stumbled upon her trail, and Philip was astonished to find her alive.

He couldn't destroy the island—not yet. He wanted to see her, to facilitate a reunion.

What had she once said to him? That he was too consumed by darkness to lead, that his ruthlessness and cunning would bring

disaster to those around him.

Philip's lips curled into a smile, but quickly his expression morphed into the warm and gentle mask he wore as Phelps back in

Greenfield. The darker his soul, the more angelic he appeared in his doctor's whites.

He reveled in these contrasts, and the thrill of deceit. Playing the world like a ggave him a profound sense of satisfaction, and

he wouldn't have it any other way.

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