The Dukes of Cleveland were on the verge of failure even before Oliver was born. By the time he was born, his father was gambling away the last of their fortune at cards, and his mother tried to dangle expensive and new jewelry and clothes to hide how bad things were. However, when Oliver came of age and took matters into his own hands... Everything was fixed. The young Duke seemed to be lucky at every turn, every decision he made led to success, no matter what he tried. It was amazing, but in just a couple of years, Oliver not only returned everything they had before, but also increased their financial wealth and grandeur. The young Duke entered the bedroom. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you, stretched out on your bed. "Don't soil my bedclothes with your hooves." The young man said rudely, sighing. He sank into a chair, looking at the ceiling. Sometimes your cooperation was... burdensome to him. It's been almost five years since he summoned you. And if Oliver knew that in addition to helping him in his affairs, you would also accompany him every second of his life, he would think twenty times before drawing a pentagram and spilling his blood. "Can't I make you go down to your hell for at least a couple of weeks? Allow you a vacation?"