The conversation had taken a turn, and it was clear that light-hearted banter was off the table.

"Vance, let's cut to the chase." Vivienne bit into a strawberry, savoring the burst of sweet, succulent flavor.

Vance sipped his wine, his gaze shifting between Vivienne and Percival.

"Vivienne, what do you know about Percival here?" He asked, nodding subtly towards Percival.

Vivienne tilted her head, eyeing Percival from head to toe. "Inside out," she declared.

Percival nearly choked on his Chardonnay.

What on earth was she talking about?

Were they not here for a formal discussion?

Vance was clearly taken aback, not expecting such a forthright answer from Vivienne.

Nor had Vivienne expected to say it, but seeing Percival's stern and ascetic demeanor, she just could not help herself.

Not everyone could understand the world of someone who cared about looks like she did.

Vance regained his composure and chuckled. "Well then, you must be familiar with his work. I was wondering if you might be interested in joining him professionally?" Percival coughed, glancing at Vance.

Was he suggesting Vivienne join the Vanguard Agency?

Vivienne speared another strawberry with her fork, the juice coating her taste buds in satisfaction.

"Director Vance, are you sure you can afford to hire me?"

He flashed a forced smile. "Perhaps the Vanguard Agency does have

you even know who I am?" Vivienne leaned back on the sofa, her features alight with a

identity of great interest to my upper echelons. But I'm only interested in one thing." Vivienne

"Karen's daughter," Vance said.

Vivienne's eyes, and the casual indifference vanished, replaced by an

mother and you were not, I believe, acquainted," Vivienne said calmly, her tone laced with an

knew, when her mother was with

was naturally a loner, not one to seek out friendships, so the term 'friend' applied to very

stories, Vivienne had never

Percival, was someone Vivienne had barely met in her childhood,

name, wanted to

Wishful thinking, indeed.

forward. "I was

of sincerity, piquing

were rivals from the moment she joined the agency. She was stubborn, and so was I. We'd often butt heads, especially during a live exercise not long after she joined. Lark, Ashen

ready to use a tranquilizer gun, but Lark would not have it. She insisted the hostage not be harmed in any way. We argued, but ultimately,

her mother telling her

Ashen Pigeon was Micah.

that no matter what, one should

replied that while protecting oneself was crucial, between one's safety and the hostage's, the hostage must come first-that was the creed of

I were rescuing someone. I'd have the enemy hand them over willingly. Now that's the best

then, I was young and hot-headed. I didn't see the point in Lark's actions. I thought that if you can't guarantee your own life, how can you protect the people

not until I went undercover that I finally understood. Your mother's

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