The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

At lunch, Yorick and Percival exchanged pleasantries about the relationship between their two families.

Percival listened intently, responding to each point made.

Vivienne and Sasha sat together, chatting and occasionally feeding Winston, who sat between them.

Only Arthur sat alone in the middle, ignored by both sides, struggling to join the conversation.

His face was the picture of dejection.

Catching sight of this, Vivienne couldn't help but feel a twinge of difort. Pretending not to care, she spoke up, "I get along just fine with Mr. Wolf, no need for you to worry." Arthur blinked, his look of loss instantly replaced by surprise, "If he ever treats you wrong, just tell me. I'll make sure he regrets it!" Percival choked on his drink.

They were married, and still, he couldn't let go? Vivienne was at a loss for words.

She meant to reassure him, not to stir up trouble with Mr. Wolf! Yorick, too, was exasperated by his son's tics, “Enough with the attitude. They're a couple now; you should back off and just be ready to spoil your grandkids when the timees. That's all." Arthur, startled, turned to Vivienne in shock, "You're pregnant?" Vivienne, "..." She seriously doubted her intelligence had anything to do with this man.

Sasha gently tugged at Arthur's hand, whispering, "They've only been married for a few days. Why the rush? Vivienne and Percival are getting along fine. Aren't you worried you won't get to be a grandfather?" Vivienne took a deep breath, regretting her expectations.

After all, how could two different peoplee from the sbed? After the meal, Percival stayed behind to chat with Yorick, while Vivienne and Sasha took Winston to the backyard.

In the garden, Vivienne seized the opportunity to check Winston's pulse.

Given that Winston and Colin shared the smother, there was a chance Winston might suffer from the sgic malady. Finding no abnormalities in Winston, Vivienne breathed a sigh of relief. This was the best-case scenario, considering she wasn't entirely confident she could cure such a condition.

Winston looked up at Vivienne, his little mouth puckered in concern, "Am I sick, sis?" Vivienne stroked his head, "No, Winston, you're perfectly healthy. And you'll stay that way." Winston's smile returned at her reassurance.

Sasha pointed towards a nearby flower bed, "Winston, didn't you want to pick a flower for your aunt? She loves pink ones." Nodding, Winston scampered off towards the flower bed.

Sasha then spoke up, "What's going on?" Vivienne shook her head, "It's hard to say for now, but someone from the Wright family practiced forbidden arts. Winston is his descendant." Sasha's gaze darkened as she looked at the cheerful Winston, "Using lives as stepping stones, utterly heartless." Vivienne pursed her lips, "Desire knows no bounds. Selfish people will find any excuse to justify their actions." Turning away, Sasha then asked about another matter, "Any progress on Abigail's case?" Vivienne sat down, "Soon. Mr. Wolf severely injured her; she won't many days." Sasha nodded, "Having hid within the Linklater family for so long, she must have had multiple identities. And I can sense she's specifically targeting you." Vivienne raised an eyebrow, "Does dad know about this?" Sasha shook her head, "Grandpa and I kept it from him. He's been at the front for years and might not have much attachment to this aunt. But if someone has been impersonating her for years, he won't let it go easily." Vivienne agreed with Sasha's sentiment.

Arthur's emphasis on family was evident in how he treated her.

Before leaving, Vivienne asked Sasha what they planned to do with Winston if the Wright family were to disappear.

Sasha smiled, “The Linklater family can certainly afford to take care of a child." Besides, both she and Arthur felt a special connection to the boy.

If it cto that, they would be more than happy to keep him.

On their way back, Vivienne received a call from Draven, “Miss, a woman's body was found in the west side of town!" Vivienne hung up, a smirk playing on her lips as she turned to Percival, "Mr. Wolf, what's meant toe will always find its way." Percival made a U-turn, heading towards the west side, "As long as she appears, she'll show her weakness.” At the riverside in the west.

Draven and his team had cordoned off the area, leaving only a small section open near the first crscene.

Upon Vivienne's arrival, Draven reported, "Miss, we've identified the victim. A 29-year-old woman living alone, her heart was removed during a night jog before she was thrown into the river. We can only confirm her death occurred within the last day." Vivienne acknowledged him and, donning gloves, moved forward to examine the body.

The cut around the heart was clean and precise, likely the work of a blade.

The body was dumped in the river to obscure the exact tof death. Given the severity of her injuries, Abigail must be hiding around this area.

Percival glanced at the nearby facilities, “Have you checked all the surveillance footage?" Draven nodded, "Yes, we've looked through everything." Vivienne stood up, instructing Draven, "Keep searching. Single women tend to be more cautious. Anyone who tries to approach must have prepared in advance." "Also, don't limit your search to young women. Anyone acting out of the ordinary recently, regardless of gender or age, should be considered a suspect." Abigail's skill in disguise was so advanced that not even Vivienne could spot a flaw. Changing her appearance was as easy for her as drinking water.

Draven nodded and went off to relay the orders.

Vivienne stared at the path from the roadside to the river, wondering how long Abigail had waited to find the perfect victim.

A person capable of such patience wouldn't easily let her target escape, no matter the disguise.

She was bound to appear again.

Following the leads provided by Vivienne, the agents of the Nine Mystics Society quickly zeroed in on a neer who had recently surfaced in the area.

Digging deeper, they hit a dead end - the man's records were virtually non-existent.

Draven dispatched two teams to track down leads, rushing the first piece of actionable intel to Vivienne. "Boss, we've got a suspect." The photo revealed a thirty-year-old man. Vivienne glanced at it and demanded, "Find where he's staying." Draven nodded, made a call, and within minutes, precise coordinates pinged his phone.

Apanied by Percival, Vivienne set out, leaving Draven to liaise with the local police.

Their search ended at a rented house, where they descended into a damp, shadowy basement. The only furniture was a foldable cot littered with men's clothing and a table that bore knives. e What caught Vivienne's eye, however, was the smear of blood and fragments of what looked unmistakably like a heart on the table, sending a chill down her spine. hovels Maybe her mentor, the old man, wasn't just spinning tales after all.

Sfolks truly are bound by their dark desires, shamelessly crossing every line.

Percival ordered the collection of evidence from the scene topare with the DNA of the victim.

The body had been dead for a day; Abigail had anticipated their discovery.

Leaving traces was a taunt, a message that they couldn't catch her, couldn't touch her.

But pride often precedes a fall, and the overconfident often meet their demise at their proudest moment.