The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Lennox just could not stand it any longer. He snatched the broom from Percival’s grasp, and with a

gentle tug, he swept the dust into the pan.

Crack! The broom head snapped off.

Percival furrowed his brow in annoyance. “That’s the sixth time that’s happened. Are your things

always this flimsy?”

Lennox replied with a slight hesitation, “Is it possible you’re just too strong and snapped it yourself?”

“It’s this piece of junk that’s the problem,” Percival grumbled, casting a disdainful glance at the broom

before turning to Quentin. “I had someone buy you a new racing car model and a desktop PC. They’ll

be delivered soon.”

Quentin, for his part, was not too fussed. He looked around at the further disarray. “It’s a knock-off

anyway. Got it for ten bucks. But… Percival, maybe you should just stop cleaning.”

Despite being older than Vivienne, Quentin and the others respected her technical expertise and would

often follow Aaron’s lead in calling her by her nickname. And since Percival was Vivienne’s fiancé, they

naturally called him by his first name.

Vivienne held back laughter, her delicate face turning a shade of red from the effort to conceal her

laughter.

This must have been the first time Percival had been “rejected”!

Yet, he seemed filled with joy, and his mood visibly brightened.

Aaron’s expression darkened slightly, though he said nothing, silently unplugging the computer to

prevent the imminent explosion.

As he began to repair the broom, he asked Mark coldly, “What brings you here?”

Mark finally said, “I’m here to take you home.”

“I’ll be heading back tomorrow; we’re celebrating here tonight. You go on ahead.”

Mark knew Aaron well enough to understand his temperament. Today, Aaron had announced his

retirement, which meant he would return to the Miller family fold tomorrow.

He had come to see if there was anything he could do to help, feeling the weight of his many debts to

his son.

Before he could say anything else, the door to the training room burst open.

“Percival, the PC and racing model, and brand new cleaning supplies are here. Why on earth are you

buying all this stuff and sending it here? Aren’t you worried Kenneth will give you an earful? Ah, there’s

Vivienne! No wonder Hawk won today, with you coaching them!” Leopold remarked as he brought the

items in.

Vivienne took a sip of her Coke. “Why do you talk so much?”

Leopold clamped his mouth shut, carrying five limited-edition racing models and placing them on the

table. He could not help but blurt out, “How did this place get so messy? Don’t you guys clean up

around here?”

Everyone thought, “This is after the cleaning. Can you believe it?’

Percival gave Leopold a nudge with his foot. “Enough with the chatter. Change out the PC.”

Leopold muttered, “Fine, fine, I’m the scapegoat.”

Pointing at ‘scapegoat number two’ Thomas, Leopold called him over to help with the installation.

Bennett and the others, feeling a bit guilty, pitched in to help.

Percival did not just replace the PC; he upgraded the entire setup—desk, chair, the works—leaving the

room far better equipped than before.

Quentin’s eyes gleamed at the sight of the limited-edition racing models. “These… these are like a

hundred thousand a pop!”

Leopold looked up, “Like them? For the sake that you’re Vivienne’s players, I’ll throw in a few more. My

place is full of them; his even more so.”

Percival, the one being pointed at, looked up and dropped a bombshell that sent chills through the

Hawk team, “For the next seven days, I’ll be here cleaning.”

“What!” The usually composed Bennett exclaimed, turning to Vivienne. “Coach, please, we still need

this space. We’ve got the new cleaning bots. They’re fully automated. No need for manual labor. Let’s

not do this.”

Vivienne remained silent, but Percival, sitting steadily, insisted, “No, I lost a bet.”

Bennett pleaded, “Spare me, please. I still have to coach here!”

Aaron, seated at his computer, spoke slowly, “Those who don’t understand E-sports don’t belong in our

training room. We don’t need your cleaning.”

Leopold nearly choked on his Coke.

“Don’t understand E-sports? Kid, you couldn’t be more naive.” He thought.

Percival’s lips curved into a smirk as he approached the computer, his gaze steady but icy, “Care for a

match?”

Aaron was already bristling with competitive spirit, particularly with Percival challenging him in his own

domain. “Let’s do this. Lose, and you stay away from Vivienne.”

Percival laughed coldly, paying little mind to Aaron. “I made a bet with Vivienne to clean your training

room for a week if you won. So, if you lose, I won’t bother you again. How about it?”

For the first time, Bennett and the others wanted Aaron to lose.

Aaron narrowed his eyes, “You’re on!”

Vivienne sat to the side, eyes never lifting.

She had not seen Percival play, but she knew Aaron was no match for him.

Leopold perked up with interest, even getting Bennett and the crew to place bets.

Aaron chose his best character and went straight for Percival.

But in the blink of an eye, Aaron’s screen went dark, his character slain.

The Hawk team was stunned. How had Percival done that?

Did he just score first blood?

Aaron respawned, only to be killed again and again, eight times in a row.

Percival stood firm in the center, not pushing forward, just waiting to take Aaron down.

By the end, Aaron could barely hold his mouse.Books Chapters Are Daily Updated Join & Stay

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Vivienne coughed lightly, “Mr. Wolf, that’s enough.”

“Alright, for you,” Percival said, glancing at Vivienne. His fingers moved swiftly, and he demolished the

tower, securing a flawless solo victory.

Aaron could not believe it. How could he not have had even the slightest chance?

The rest of the Hawk team was speechless.

The last time they saw Aaron so thoroughly crushed was in a match against Vivienne.

What in the world was going on with Percival?

Bennett finally remembered what Percival had said earlier, something about a bet with Vivienne.

“Percival, why did you make a bet with our coach? Was it because Kenneth is your younger brother?”

Leopold cut in before anyone else could speak, “You guys still don’t know? Percival’s the freelance

coach for Team Snake.”

“No way! You’re that legendary coach who led Snake to six straight championships!”

Percival calmly set his headphones on their stand, turned off the game, and stood up, walking towards

Vivienne.

“Vivienne, I’ve won. Let’s go,” said Percival, extending his hand with a gentle tone.

Vivienne took his hand and turned to Bennett and the others, “I’ll skip the victory party. You all have

fun.”

That was when Aaron suddenly spoke up, “Percival, are you really Snake’s coach?”

Percival gave Aaron a cool glance, said nothing, and walked away with Vivienne’s hand in his.

But Aaron understood.

Percival was saying with his eyes—Even in your domain, I can beat you so bad you won’t be able to lift

your head.