The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Grasping the situation, Percival stopped talking to Leopold, engaging in small talk with Vivienne as they mingled with the various attendees.

Before long, Patrick made his way over. “Mr. Ellington, | haven't had the chance to congratulate you two yet. My apologies.” “No need for formalities, Mr. Ashford,” Percival replied nonchalantly.

There was an unspoken tension between the two men, a remembrance of an engagement party initially intended for Percival and Gillian.

After exchanging the obligatory business pleasantries, Patrick gestured towards the starboard side of the deck.

“Mr. Ellington, since it’s your first there, why not take your lady to enjoy the view from the deck? | can’t boast much, but the scenery here is truly top-notch.” “Thank you for the suggestion, Mr. Ashford,” Percival accepted graciously.

Patrick offered a wry smile, and with a discreet nod to Vivienne, he excused himself to attend to other guests.

Vivienne glanced towards the deck and tapped her earpiece. “Husky's lady, report in.” “Vivienne, I'm not Husky's lady. I'm a Samoyed, a Samoyed!” Griffin insisted repeatedly.

Samoyed was the code nGriffin had chosen for herself, also known as Angel Smile. She had insisted on having a handle to fit in with the rest.

“You two sure know how to nyourselves. Report your positions.” With a muted grunt, Griffin responded, “Starboard deck, nine o'clock position, and stern, three o'clock position, one ‘Morning Glory’ each. No other anomalies detected. No new explosives found. Stay sharp.” Vivienne nodded and exchanged a knowing look with “a and they both discreetly faded into the crowd.

In a lounge area, Yannick was engrossed in conversation with Gillian.

Yannick’s eyes, sharp and calculating, roamed over Gillian, his desire increasingly evident.

“Gillian, when Grandma mentioned wanting to match you with Percival, | knew it was wrong. How could someone as cold as him ever deserve you?” Gillian dodged Yannick’s burning gaze, her faux modesty tinged with coyness. “I guess I'm to blame, too. | overestimated myself. | don’t know why, but | always seem to give the wrong impression. Those people were really just my friends. | never expected that they would...” “Don’t worry, | understand,” Yannick leaned closer to Gillian. “That crowd is even less worthy of you.” Internally scoffing at his words, Gillian thought, “You're the least worthy of all.” However, she responded with feigned shyness, “Do you really think that, Yannick?” “Of course, you're perfect in my eyes.” As Gillian was about to reply, her phone vibrated with a message from Mara, asking her to meet at the stern of the ship.

Confused, as Mara had not been present earlier, Gillian excused herself to find her.

After Gillian left, Yannick surreptitiously sprinkled spowder into her drink, thinking, “A slut playing the innocent? Soon, you won't be able to keep up the act!” At the stern, disguised as a crew member, Mara pulled Gillian aside to a secluded corner.

“Mara, what's this about?” Without tto explain, Mara urgently asked, “Were you with Yannick?” “Yes, he wanted to chat. Why?” Mara groaned, “I knew that good-for-nothing was up to no good. He's planning to... to take advantage of you! He wants to get you pregnant with a Boyd baby so you'd have no choice but to marry him.” Gillian gasped, “How could he...” “I overheard it. That's why I snuck on board, Gillian. You mustn't go anywhere with him.” Gillian paused, and then an idea sparked in her mind. “Mara, do you still wantto marry Percival? Even after all that’s happened, would you still want that?” Mara certainly did not, but she had no choice; securing the Ashford family assets was paramount. “Of course, you're my best friend.” Gillian smiled, relieved. “Then, Mara, | have a plan. Help me, and | assure you, by the end of tonight, | will be Mrs. Ellington.” Mara was taken aback. “What's the plan?” “Just followsecretly. When you see Yannick takingaway, you...” Hanging on the railing above, Vivienne overheard their entire scheme.

She almost wanted to hear more of such exciting plots. She had to admit that Gillian was rather quick-witted. It was a waste that she was not a writer.

She tapped her earpiece and said, “Mr. Wolf, you got all that? Sounds like a foolproof plan—catching a turtle in a jar!”Books Chapters Are Daily Updated Join & Stay Updated for All Books Updates...

Everyone on the comm channel, Vivienne included, could hear each other clearly.

Leopold chuckled first. “Captain Wolf, sounds like Vivienne’s calling you a turtle.” Percival’s voice was surprisingly upbeat as he clinked a glass with someone. “Keep it up, and you're headed to Fariana Isle after the mission.” “Con, | was just kidding!” Leopold quickly backpedaled.

Fariana Isle was the last place anyone wanted to be.

Vivienne rappelled down a few more feet, saying, “Mr. Wolf, looks like you're in for a lucky night. Just don’t embarrass me.” Percival’s voice was stern. “Stop it. Stay safe.” Vivienne laughed softly. “You too.” The comm line went quiet as Percival continued to navigate the social waters, his gaze sharp as a wolf in the night, poised to pounce on its prey under the moonlight.

In a flurry of panic, a figure clad in a server's uniform cdarting towards Percival. “Percival, I'm Mara, and something terrible is happening! You've got to cquick. Yannick’s trying to take advantage of Gillian!” Without waiting for an explanation, Mara grabbed Percival’s arm and yanked him away.

Percival offered no resistance, allowing Mara to pull him towards the guest rooms.

“Bro, | just got a text from Gillian. She said she was chatting with Yannick and started feeling woozy, and then she just went out of contact. Thankfully, she senther room’s location before she did. We've got to save her!” Mara, visibly distressed, led Percival to the guest room area. “This is it, bro. Do you want to knock?” Percival stood before the door, hearing faint cries from within, his expression darkening. “Why should | knock?” Mara hesitated, realizing Percival was questioning her inaction. With a slight tug on his sleeve and a hint of a sob in her voice, she admitted, “I'm scared.” Inside the room.

Gillian was pinned down on the bed by Yannick.

Yannick’s hands, fueled by desire, had already left a series of purple bruises on her legs.

“What's the act for? You think | don’t know how many guys you've been with, you slut? What's one more night to you?” As he spoke, Yannick ripped at the straps of Gillian’s dress, and his teeth sank into her soft shoulder, leaving a trail of bite marks.