The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Listening to the man’s words, F-Poison was quite pleased. She straightened up and, with a slender finger, gave a gentle pat on the man’s shoulder.

“You're destined for great things,” she said with a wink. “Let’s ditch the self-doubt, okay? I've got a good feeling about you.” The man nodded slightly, his face an unreadable mask. “Understood,” he replied quietly.

Seemingly content, F-Poison patted his cheek and, stifling a yawn, wandered back to her room to rest.

The man stood still for a moment, a cold glint flickering in his eyes. His pocket vibrated with the buzz of his personal cellphone, ringing with a call from abroad.

“Yeah? What? Alright, got it.” After ending the call with icy indifference, he turned and walked away.

Gillian made her way to the Linklater estate; her previous visit and good rapport with Dracon ensured the guards let her pass without issue.

After a thorough check, she was finally inside the Linklater Mansion. To her surprise, as soon as she entered, she saw Percival sitting in the living room, deeply engrossed in conversation with Yorick.

Gillian paused, not expecting to see him there.

Percival seemed to not even notice her, continuing his chat with Yorick.

Only Dracon cforward to greet her, and they headed to the back garden.

“How could you be so careless to have Vance oust you? Do you have any idea how hard | worked to get you in there?” Dracon scolded as soon as they were alone.

If Yorick hadn't been under the weather these past few days, he would've been at Gillian’s doorstep to give her a piece of his mind for bungling such a simple task.

Gillian felt wronged.

Who would've thought an armored vehicle transporting a felon could get hijacked? The Vanguard Agency was massive, yet the perpetrator had vanished without a trace. Even the higher-ups couldn't protect Gillian now.

She was left waiting for news.

But twas not on Gillian’s side. F-Poison had abandoned her, and finding shelter was urgent, or she would face an even worse fate than before.

“I didn’t see this coming, Mr. Linklater. You're my only hope now. If you don’t help me, I'm at a loss!” Gillian clasped Dracon’s wrist, her voice tinged with desperation.

“Remember, I'm the one who can save Diana. Helpthis once, and | promise to locate her - deal?” Dracon frowned. “There’s only one option left for you. Whether it works is up to you.” “What is it?” Gillian’s eyes brightened.

Dracon nodded toward the living room, where Percival was still engaged in his chess gwith Yorick. “Him.” “What do you mean?” “Percival may have left the Vanguard Agency, but his ties with the Martinez family run deep. Captains in the agency, like Thomas and Micah, are his people. If you want back in, his word is the only one that will carry any weight.” Gillian bit her lip. How could Percival possibly agree? Their history was fraught with more animosity than a star-crossed feud. It was almost impossible to have Percival help her.

“Today, he’s here without a driver. You'll need to think outside the box. Good luck.” Dracon handed her a spray bottle and then left.

Gillian stared at the spray bottle and let out a long sigh.

In the living room, Percival bid farewell to Yorick. “I should be going then. Take care of yourself, and when Vivienne's free, we'll visit. Oh, and she reminded you to take your meds on time. I've brought them with me.” Yorick nodded, his smile knowing. “Will do. Drive safe.” Percival understood the unspoken message and took his leave.

Stepping out of the Linklater Mansion, he found Gillian waiting at the entrance with a look of distress.

“Finished with your business, Mr. Ellington?” Gillian asked, clutching her purse and gazing at Percival with feigned innocence.

Percival scrutinized her from head to toe, an icy edge to his gaze. “What do you want?” Gillian nodded sheepishly. “My car broke down, and the tow service hasn't shown up. I'm in a hurry to get back downtown. Could you possibly givea lift, Mr. Ellington?” With a scoffing laugh, Percival unlocked his car. “Get in.” Gillian was surprised at how easily he agreed. She had thought she would need to beg or cajole.

Men are all the s- a little flutter of the eyelashes, and they're hooked.

She settled into the passenger seat, the spray bottle concealed in her purse.

“You've forgivenfor our past, right?” Percival raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I don’t recall.” “Thank you. | don’t know how | could ever repay you... Maybe...” “How about you cwithsomewhere?” he suggested.

Inside, Gillian smirked. She hadn’t misjudged him. Without Vivienne by his side, he was showing his true colors.

“Sure, where to?” she said, letting her fingers brush against Percival’s shoulder.

He narrowed his eyes, smoothly dodging her touch. “Somewhere satisfying.” In his eyes, her hand was nothing but an annoyance—hideous and disgusting! “Alright, I'm all yours.” She relaxed, realizing she wouldn't need the spray after all.

The Linklater Mansion, nestled in its sprawling grounds, was isolated, far from any residential areas. The journey ahead would be a long one.

Gillian had dozed off in the back seat of the car without realizing it.

In her dream, she was entangled in a tumultuous embrace with Percival on a massive round bed, the two of them lost in a wild, passionate dance. She was on top, and Percival was beneath her, eager and submissive, almost worshipful.

She usurped the place of Vivienne, making her kneel on the ground and repeatedly slap her own face, apologizing to her over and over!Books Chapters Are Daily Updated Join & Stay Updated for All Books Updates...

A smirk played on Gillian’s lips as she dreamed. She knew it—all of it—was hers for the taking.

At the YQ Research Center, Brody stroked his stubbled chin, eyeing the woman on the operating table.

“What's she grinning about?” he wondered aloud.

Vivienne shook her head, her blonde curls bouncing. “Who knows? Must be one hell of a good dream.” Brody clicked his tongue in annoyance. “I can’t stand people looking all happy in their dreams.” With a swift move, he stepped forward and slapped Gillian across the face.

Jolted awake, Gillian’s eyes snapped open to find her wrists and ankles bound to the operating table.

Beside her stood a man in a stark white lab coat, his face twisted in a sinister grin.

And to her right, a woman was laughing hysterically, her sanity seemingly hanging by a thread.

Both of them stared at Gillian with a bone-chilling glee.

“Who are you? Where am 1? Where's Percival? Do you have any idea who | am? How dare you tieup like this! Have you lost your minds?” Gillian demanded, thrashing against the cold metal chains that kept her confined to the small, sterile world of the operating table.