The Million-Dollar Heart

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.

brand new cleaning supplies are here. Why on earth are you buying all this stuff and sending it here? Aren't you

her Coke. "Why do

his mouth shut, carrying five limited-edition racing models and placing them on the table. He could not help but

"This is after the

a nudge with his foot. "Enough with the chatter. Change out the

fine,

two' Thomas, Leopold called him over to help

feeling a bit guilty,

upgraded the entire setup-desk, chair, the works-leaving the room far

sight of the limited-edition racing models. "These... these are like a

them? For the sake that you're Vivienne's players, I'll throw in a few more. My place is full of

bombshell that sent chills through the Hawk team,

need this space. We've got the new cleaning bots. They're fully automated. No need for manual labor. Let's not

remained silent, but Percival, sitting steadily, insisted,

please. I still

E-sports don't belong in our training room.

choked on his

Kid, you couldn't be more

the computer, his

with competitive spirit, particularly with Percival challenging him in his own domain. "Let's do this. Lose, and you

your training room for a week if you won. So, if you lose,

the first time, Bennett and

narrowed his eyes,

the side, eyes never

play, but she knew Aaron

getting Bennett and the crew to place

best character and went straight for

of an eye, Aaron's screen went dark,

stunned. How had Percival