The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Vivienne and Percival's paperwork went through without a hitch. After a quick lunch, they wrapped up all the formalities within half an hour and collected the various IDs and permits issued by the authorities.

The newlyweds' first stop was to drive to the HK Penitentiary.

After srestructuring by the Vanguard Agency, several convicts had been transferred from their previous underground cells to these more secure facilities.

Now, they were housed alongside traitors to the state and suspects involved in particularly heinous crimes.

The security was so tight, a fly couldn't buzz through the air without being zapped by one of the hidden laser guns in the corners.

It was Vivienne's first visit to this prison, and she discreetly looked around, the green light strips on the floor giving her the sensation of walking through the corridors of a high-tech spaceship from a sci-fi blockbuster.

"Are we going to send the criminals we catch to this place from now on?" Vivienne suddenly asked, turning to look at Percival.

The man nodded without hesitation, "The number of turncoats within the Vanguard Agency has the higher-ups on edge. From now on, all prisoners captured by any special division will be detained here. Without a pass from the top brass, no one is allowed to transfer them out." And by the top brass, he meant the leader who oversaw all the special divisions.

A flicker of intrigue passed through Vivienne's eyes.

As they spoke, they were led to the cell where Whitford Abernathy was being held.

Once a prominent figure in an international crsyndicate, he was now isolated in a sterile, silver room. He was in a standard-issue gray jumpsuit, with black electronic shackles on his wrists. He barely glanced up at their arrival before turning back to his needlework.

Percival narrowed his eyes slightly and gestured for the guards to leave.

Vivienne pulled up a stool by the observation window, "You've got it cushy compared to your brother, Cormac. He spent over a decade doing hard labor in the countryside." At her words, Whitford's hands trembled, and the needle pricked his finger. Drops of blood fell, but he was too numb to react, his face finally showing a hint of emotion, "You've seen Cormac?" Vivienne nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "I have. He's currently under my care." "That's impossible!" Whitford retorted sharply. He reached for a piece of tissue to dab at the blood, his voice resolute, "Gavin promised to look after Cormac. You think you can take someone from the head of the Abernathy family? Such big talk for a little girl. Aren't you afraid of biting your tongue?" Percival sat down beside Vivienne, "The 'care' you're talking about, is that being exiled to a small mountain village, living with Gavin's most despised brother, Emrys?" The emotionless tone in Percival's voice halted Whitford's movements.

Vivienne's eyes twinkled with mischief, "Oh, and he's been calling Emrys 'Dad.' I bet he doesn't even remember he has a real brother. Whitford, you know the guards posted around your brother in that village can't even hold their own against the least competent of my subordinates, right?" Whitford had no one else he cared about, his brother was his soft spot. As Vivienne's voice trailed off, he threw aside his work and grabbed the bars, "What do you want?!" Ten years ago, you were a shareholder in both the Littleton and Schram families," Vivienne didn't cright out with it but began ecounting what she'd learned, "You colluded with Harrison to steal the Littleton family's pharmaceutical ormulas, and conspired with Emrys bring ruin to the Littleton family. I vant you to testify in court, to prove Harrison's crimes and clear the Littleton family's name." Content Delongs to englishWhitford's pupils dilated, his knee-jerk reaction, "Impossible, don't even think about it!" Even now, Whitford was unwilling to betray Gavin.

Vivienne tilted her head, her beautiful eyes meeting Percival's.

He read the surprise in her gaze effortlessly and smiled faintly, affectionately ruffling her hair. He pulled out a walkie-talkie from his sleeve, his voice cool as it floated through the air, "Bring it in." Soon after.

A person in a black uniform walked in, holding a tray. On it was a vial, and upon closer inspection, one could see the simple yet elegant patterns on it, suggesting it was custom-made.

But Vivienne recognized it at a glance; it was the kind of bottle her mother had always favored for her most satisfactory concoctions. The feigned death serum was one of those.

However, she remembered her mentor saying that the initial batch of serum had been sold off and was now primarily in the hands of the Abernathy family. Where did Percival get this bottle from? Reading Vivienne's surprise, Percival handed her the vial, "Last night, I had Thomas interrogate Cormac. The serum on him, it wasn't the sas the one your mother made. The original elixir that the Abernathy family acquired wasn't given to anyone. Instead, they used it to develop something new." He laced his fingers with Vivienne's, his gaze filled with tenderness, "This drug, similar to the feigned death serum in effect, is highly dangerous to the body. Without a regular antidote, it won't be long before Cormac suffers a violent death." After speaking, Percival turned his gaze to Whitford.

The icy chill in his eyes was a stark contrast to the warmth he showed Vivienne, "Whitford, even now, will you still give your life for Gavin?" A struggle flickered through Whitford's eyes, he didn't want to, but...

Grizzled at the temples, the middle-aged man gritted his teeth, a look of resolute defiance flickering across his face. "The Littletons were crooked to the core, all underhanded deals and secret alliances. Don't even dream that I'd perjure myself for them! Now that the organization. has crumbled, I'm just am Abernathy, and you can forget about makingbetray my own kin!" "Your kin?" Vivienne couldn't help but laugh. "Gavin never considered you one of his own. Everyone from your branch of the family is either dead or broken, except for you and your brother." Her fingers danced across the tablet she held, bringing up documents that Victoria had sent her.

"Your parents, your wife." As she flipped through the images on the screen, they cinto view for Whitford. "All dumped in the wilderness, cold and discarded. And Harrison, he orchestrated it all." Vivienne had been sitting for too long and felt stiff. She stood up, stretching her limbs. "Whitford, I didn't chere to negotiate. Even if you refuse, as a key suspect, you must take the stand. I have ways to make you tell the truth. I'm offering you a chance at vengeance, nothing more." "Vengeance?" Whitford's grip tightened slowly, his rage almost tangible in the air.

The steel bars of his cell bent ever so slightly, and the electronic shackles on his wrists emitted a piercing alarm.