The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

The conversation had taken a turn, and it was clear that light-hearted banter was off the table.

“Vance, let's cut to the chase.” Vivienne bit into a strawberry, savoring the burst of sweet, succulent flavor.

Vance sipped his wine, his gaze shifting between Vivienne and Percival.

“Vivienne, what do you know about Percival here?” He asked, nodding subtly towards Percival.

Vivienne tilted her head, eyeing Percival from head to toe. “Inside out,” she declared.

Percival nearly choked on his Chardonnay.

What on earth was she talking about? Were they not here for a formal discussion? Vance was clearly taken aback, not expecting such a forthright answer from Vivienne.

Nor had Vivienne expected to say it, but seeing Percival’s stern and ascetic demeanor, she just could not help herself.

Not everyone could understand the world of someone who cared about looks like she did.

Vance regained his composure and chuckled. “Well then, you must be familiar with his work. | was wondering if you might be interested in joining him professionally?” Percival coughed, glancing at Vance.

Was he suggesting Vivienne join the Vanguard Agency? Vivienne speared another strawberry with her fork, the juice coating her taste buds in satisfaction.

“Director Vance, are you sure you can afford to hire me?” Her question put Vance in an awkward spot. He flashed a forced smile. “Perhaps the Vanguard Agency does have the means.” “Do you even know who | am?” Vivienne leaned back on the sofa, her features alight with a unique allure.

Vance's smile froze, and he straightened up, his eyes piercing into Vivienne. “Specter Healer, an identity of great interest to my upper echelons. But I'm only interested in one thing.” Vivienne did not respond, her gaze dropping slightly.

“Karen's daughter,” Vance said.

Hearing her mother’s name, a fierce glint flashed in Vivienne’s eyes, and the casual indifference vanished, replaced by an incomprehensible fury.

“My mother and you were not, | believe, acquainted,” Vivienne said calmly, her tone laced with an enigmatic edge.

As far as she knew, when her mother was with the Vanguard Agency, her only real ally had been Micah.

Her mother was naturally a loner, not one to seek out friendships, so the term ‘friend’ applied to very few.

In her mother’s stories, Vivienne had never heard of anyone besides Micah.

Even her mother’s favorite protégé, Percival, was someone Vivienne had barely met in her childhood, barely remembering his name.

And now Vance, invoking her mother’s name, wanted to recruit her into the Vanguard Agency.

Wishful thinking, indeed.

Vance set down his wine glass and leaned forward. “I was not exactly close with Lark. Quite the opposite, we were adversaries.” His admission carried a hint of sincerity, piquing Vivienne's interest to hear more.

“Lark and | were rivals from the moment she joined the agency. She was stubborn, and so was |. We'd often butt heads, especially during a live exercise not long after she joined. Lark, Ashen Pigeon, and | were assigned to the ssquad, tasked with a hostage rescue.

The situation did not leave room for the hostage to be extracted unharmed. | was ready to use a tranquilizer gun, but Lark would not have it. She insisted the hostage not be harmed in any way. We argued, but ultimately, Ashen Pigeon sided with her, and | backed down. Lark took a risk, got herself injured, but managed to get the hostage out safely.” Vivienne remembered her mother telling her this tale.

Ashen Pigeon was Micah.

The purpose of sharing this story, Karen had said, was to teach Vivienne that no matter what, one should never compromise their principles to achieve a goal.

Vivienne had asked if getting injured wasn’t a compromise. Karen replied that while protecting oneself was crucial, between one’s safety and the hostage’s, the hostage must cfirst—that was the creed of a Vanguard Agency operative.

Despite not fully understanding, Vivienne had confidently told her mother, “I'd make sure never to get hurt if | were rescuing someone. I'd have the enemy hand them over willingly. Now that’s the best strategy.” Karen had laughed warmly at that, her eyes filled with pride.

After recounting the past, Vance rubbed his cheek. “Back then, | was young and hot-headed. | didn’t see the point in Lark’s actions. | thought that if you can’t guarantee your own life, how can you protect the people or the nation? It was not until | went undercover that | finally understood. Your mother’s actions were what every operative should aspire to.”Books Chapters Are Daily Updated Join & Stay Updated for All Books Updates...

Vivienne kept her gaze fixed on Vance. “So, what does this have to do with me?” Vance lowered his head, then lifted it again. “Vivienne, | know your mother passed all her knowledge to you. | want you to join the Vanguard Agency, to carry on her legacy, and letlook after you—as a way to make amends for my past mistakes.” Vivienne raised an eyebrow.

Amends? “The last phone call your mother received was from me,” Vance said after a pause.

Vivienne was stunned for almost half a minute, and even Percival could not hide his disbelief.

Karen's last call had been from Vance! Suddenly, Vivienne stood up, seizing Vance by the collar, the fury in her eyes burning through the room’s atmosphere.

As a security guard approached to intervene, Vance gestured for him to back off.

Melissa and her two children watched from the side, their hearts pounding with fear and trepidation.

They had no clear idea of what Vance did for a living outside the family home, but at the end of the day, he was still blood. They could only guess vaguely at the nature of his work.

Now, as Vivienne’s anger burned white-hot, they understood that this was a matter in which intervention was neither welcnor wise.

“What did you say to my mom? Tell me!” Vivienne ground out through clenched teeth; each word squeezed through her jaw like she was fighting to keep control.

Her eyes blazed with fury, like a lioness on the verge of pouncing, staring down her prey with a grip that threatened to snap its neck at any moment.

Percival did not try to stop her. Even if Vivienne did not lay a finger on Vance, he felt the urge to step in.

Vance sat calmly, returning Vivienne’s heated gaze with a steady look. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth as he looked into her enraged eyes. “I told your mother all the intelligence for our mission has been destroyed by headquarters. Daphne was killed in action two days prior, her body unrecoverable. Lark, how much longer will you keep hiding?” His voice carried the stone as in years past—blame, anger, resentment, reprimand—all rolled into one, yet insufficient to describe his emotional turmoil back then.

Hearing these words, Vivienne slowly let go of her clenched hands.