The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

After being cooped up for two days straight, Vivienne had hit her limit.

No sooner had she convinced Mr. Wolf to take a walk and clear his head than Finnian's call cthrough.

She answered, "What's up, Finnian?"

From the other end, Finn's voice cin a rush, "Something weird's going on with Dawson. One minute he's fine, the next he's out

cold, breathing all weird. I've checked him over top to bottom and can't find a thing wrong. You bettere take a look."

Vivienne frowned slightly, "Alright."

Percival grabbed a jacket from nearby and draped it over her shoulders, "I'ming with you."

As they reached the foyer, Percival's phone rang.

Leopold's voice, loud enough to echo through the room, cthrough, "Percival, man, | need help. My place got swarmed by these

undead goons out of nowhere. They just won't stay down. I'm out of my depth here, and Grandpa's freaking out, thinking he's

about to have a heart attack. Get over here, will you?"

After a moment's thought, Vivienne made up her mind, "Mr. Wolf, you help Leopold. Thomas can driveto Finnian's."

Percival's eyes darkened as he issued amand into the phone, "Call Vanguard Agency, use as many people as you need, just

say it's on my orders."

With that, he hung up, gripping Vivienne's hand tighter, "I'm going with you."

Vivienne blinked, unsure if Mr. Wolf had misunderstood.

The issue involved a group, not an army.

Even if the entire Vanguard Agency showed up, they'd be overkill.

On the other end, Leopold was baffled.

Had he heard right? Percival had just handed him the reins to Vanguard Agency's entire force?

That was top-level clearance.

They arrived quickly at Finnian's place, who was pacing anxiously at the doorstep.

Seeing them, his worry lines eased, "You're here. Dawson's not looking good.e on."

Inside, Dawson lay on the bed, his face alarmingly pale.

Vivienne took one glance and sensed something off.

Turning to Finnian, she asked, "Who has Dawson been in contact with recently?"

Finnian pondered, "He had a business meeting yesterday, hoping to expand hiswork here. He seemed fine last night but was

like this by morning."

"I've tried everything | know in the last hour, but his condition's only getting worse."

Finnian looked distressed.

His expertise didn't cover this sort of situation. Standard detox methods had only worsened Dawson's condition.

Without proper intervention, Dawson's body would soon give out.

Vivienne stopped asking and pulled out a silver needle.

Just as she was about to proceed, Dawson suddenly lunged at Percival.

Percival, unfazed, used his powers as a shield, sending Dawson flying back several feet.

He had suspected ssort of setup against him but was grateful it was aimed at him and not Vivienne.

Dawson, spitting blood, glared at Percival with newfound venom, his pupils shifting from black to red.

His attack carried unfamiliar energy, mismatched with his own.

Percival met each attack with cold precision, draining Dawson of the foreign power without exerting his full strength.

Vivienne and Finnian stood back, knowing Percival wouldn't cause Dawson real harm.

However, Dawson's aggressive behavior was odd.

As his internal energy waned yet his attacks grew fiercer, Finnian exclaimed, "This is bad! Dawson's risking his own life in

desperation. This could be deadly."

Vivienne's gaze hardened. Flicking a silver needle, she hit Dawson at a precise spot in his neck. A moment of clarity flashed in his

eyes.

Upon seeing Vivienne, he attempted to speak, "Vivienne, [—"

Before he could finish, he collapsed towards her.

Percival, his expression cooling, took control and tossed Dawson back onto the bed, not bothering to hide his strength.

Perhaps there was a hint of jealousy.

Dawson's rough landing sounded painfully solid.

Regardless of whether Dawson was truly poisoned, Percival was clear: no taking liberties with Vivienne.

Vivienne frowned, not at Mr. Wolf's actions, but at Dawson's earlier reaction, which she had clearly observed.

Dawson had only reacted upon sensing Mr. Wolf, suggesting the cause was not poison or a hex aimed at Vivienne but at Mr. Wolf.

"What's happening to me?"

Perhaps the fall had dislodged the bad energy within Dawson because he suddenly seemed more lucid, though still confused at

seeing everyone around him.

Percival remained silent as Vivienne approached, "Dawson, do you remember what just happened?”

Dawson, groggy, shook his head then suddenly clutched at Vivienne's hand with a desperate grip, "Vivienne, why marry that jerk?

What's wrong with me? Don't you know how much | care about you..."

Percival's face darkened visibly.

Finnian could only sigh inwardly.

This Dawson was more trouble awake than unconscious.

This was clearly looking for trouble.

Vivienne's gaze on him was sharp, "Let go!"

Dawson tried topose himself, but the surge of adrenaline that had spiked during the confrontation was wreaking havoc within

him, making it impossible to keep his cool.

"Vivienne, maybe you should keep your distance. | don't trust myself not to hurt you right now."

Vivienne shot him a look, "Hurt me? Maybe in another hundred years."

Dawson let out a chuckle, but before Vivienne could get to work with her medical kit, he passed out cold.

His hand, however, remained tightly clamped around Vivienne's, unyielding.

"Man, oh man," Finnian exclaimed, his emotions a rollercoaster, "Why did Dawson have to pass out again?"

Percival, on the other hand, was glaring at the hand Dawson had on Vivienne as if he wanted to sever it from his body.

Addicted to taking advantage of Vivienne, was he?

Vivienne, with her free hand, took a sterilized needle from her kit, and explained to her mentor, "He's out because he can't

suppress the toxin in his system."

"Toxin?"

Finnian's expression darkened, "Who dosed him? Who even dares to use that stuff these days?"

With practiced ease, Vivienne used the needle to draw out the foreign substance from Dawson's body.

Just as the substance was about to escape, she sealed it with the needle, turning it into a wisp of black smoke that vanished from

sight.

She smirked coldly, "Who else could get their hands on something like that, if not him?"

To get what she had, they really were stopping at nothing.

They had targeted her loved ones, aiming to hurt those close to her step by step.

As if she would stand by and let them.