The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne)

By the time Vivienne arrived, Connor's condition hadn't stabilized; it had intensified.

She had barely reached the door when she heard the violent clash of chains from inside.

Brody rushed to Vivienne as soon as he saw her, "Can you figure out what's happening? I can't make heads or tails of it, and the meds I gave him did squat. He's thrashing like he's about to burst." Kneeling in front of Connor, Vivienne detected the scent of almonds.

"What meds have you given him?"

"Just the antidote for the poison, but it's useless. His body's either rejecting it or he's throwing it all up."

After a moment of contemplation and feeling Connor's blood, Vivienne said, "Here."

She collected some blood with her handkerchief, "Take him to the lab."

She had installed surveillance in the cell, so if someone had poisoned Connor, it should have been caught on camera.

On the way to the lab, Vivienne checked the surveillance footage on her phone. Initially, there was no one, until a shadow appeared on the ground. Following it, she saw the face of a guard lying at the door. "What's going on? When I arrived, he was already dead, and I saw a dark figure fleeing. I was too focused on finding the kid to chase after it."

With that realization, Vivienne had an answer.

"Someone tampered with the surveillance footage."

Her expression darkened at the thought. The fact that someone could control what was shown on the cameras, and do so with skill, was troubling.

"Can you hack it?" Brody asked tentatively.

With a smirk, Vivienne began typing furiously on her laptop, confident that no one had yet managed to outsmart her in this domain. After several attempts, she finally cracked the footage.

The dim dungeon light concealed the intruder's face, but from their stature, they seemed quite short.

"Does that look like a kid to you?" Brody frowned at the screen.

Indeed, the figure was childlike; an adult could not possibly be that short.

Without responding, Vivienne continued watching as the figure approached Connor's cell, knelt down, and forced something into his mouth. Soon after, Connor began to struggle violently, his torment evident even on the grainy footage. What startled Vivienne the most was the silver mask the intruder wore. Their eyes met through the camera, indicating they knew about the surveillance.

This was unexpected. Vivienne had personally installed the cameras, and apart from her, no one knew their locations, not even her closest allies. Yet, this individual had pinpointed them exactly.

Could this person be who Connor had mentioned?

But that theory fell apart almost as quickly as it formed. If this person wanted Connor dead, their actions were overly complicated for such a simple goal.

Were they afraid Connor would spill secrets?

Vivienne had many questions, but answers would have to wait until Connor was awake.

In the lab, Connor, still trying to break free from his restraints, was a sight of pure horror, making even the usually unfazed Brody turn away in discomfort. "Are you going to keep working on your drugs or help me out?" Vivienne asked without looking up.

After a moment's internal debate, Brody decided to stay. "I'm here to supervise, not assist!" he declared, though his tone suggested otherwise.

Ignoring him, Vivienne focused on administering the medicine, determined not to let Connor slip into unconsciousness.

Brody, wide-eyed, watched her, wondering if Connor would survive the ordeal.

"You think I'd give him a chance?" Vivienne retorted when Brody voiced his concerns.

Connor's mind was a battleground of pain and confusion as Vivienne operated on him, his body completely at her mercy.

Eventually, Vivienne extracted a blackened object from Connor's stomach, handing it to Brody for analysis. "This is your project now. Find out what this is." Brody, grateful for the task, looked at Vivienne with newfound respect. "You're not such a jerk after all. I'll get to the bottom of this, you'll see."

Connor sprawled on the bed, a

picture of exasperation, his

abdomen freshly stitched yetProperty of Nô)(velDr(a)ma.Org.

seemingly forgotten by all. "Does anyone remember I'm still

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recovering here?" he muttered under his breath, but the bustling activity around him drowned out his plea for attention.

Percival had just finished his meal, planning to drive Floyd back home, but a quick scan of the living room revealed Floyd was nowhere to be seen. "Where did your friend go?" Percival asked, his search turning up empty.

Juliette exchanged a glance with her younger brother. "He was just here a minute ago."

Percival frowned, more puzzled than concerned. Floyd was just a kid, after all. It was understandable the children not to notice his departure, but Percival himself

hadn't sensed Floyd leaving, which was unusual.

His gaze shifted upstairs just as a thud echoed from above.

Without hesitation, Percival headed upstairs, with Juliette and her brother trailing behind him.

The entire second floor was dark except for the study, its light spilling out into the hallway. Percival walked in to find Floyd on his knees on the floor, clutching a stack of experiment reports Vivienne had brought home a few days earlier.

"What are you doing here?" Percival's voice was ice-cold, his patience wearing thin.

Floyd was holding onto Vivienne's phone, a gadget she valued greatly, even though he had managed to tamper with it despite the backups. Percival couldn't tolerate such invasive behavior on Floyd's first visit.

Floyd, taken aback by Percival's anger, quickly placed the phone back on the floor. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop."

"What brought you up here?" Percival demanded, his tone forbidding further evasion.