The Million-Dollar Heart

Vivienne stared at Finnian. It would be a lie to say she did not resent him.

The death of Finnian had been a thorn in her side for years, a constant reminder of what she perceived as her medical incompetence. It gnawed at her, thinking that Finnian might still be walking the earth if her skills had been just a notch higher.

For a long while, self-doubt had engulfed her, and she had shouldered the blame for Finnian's demise.

After all, apart from Karen, Finnian was the most significant person in her life. His loss had delivered a crushing blow to her heart.

Finnian, sensing the weight of the moment, capitulated. "80 million is already a fortune. If it were 800 billion, it might just send me to an early grave!"

"Kid," Finnian began, with a weary shake of his head, "I was being hunted. I had no choice but to fake death to escape. I didn't want to drag you all into this mess. It was a last resort." As he spoke, he rolled up his sleeve to reveal a long, ugly scar on his right forearm.

The scar was surrounded by dark tissue and was as deep as half a coin. It bore the hallmark of a specialized weapon-one laced with deadly poison.

Vivienne's eyes flashed with concern as she gently took Finnian's hand, inspecting the scar. "You've been poisoned, and you never told me? Do you have someone who can cure this?"

After a closer examination, she could see that, although the scar looked fierce, it was healing, and the black hue was the residual poison that no longer posed a threat to his life.

Finnian withdrew his arm and nodded. "Yeah, a master healer, a friend of mine. I'll introduce you someday."

Vivienne furrowed her brow. She was a medical prodigy known as the Specter Healer. Yet, she knew in her heart that this poison was beyond her ability to cure. There was someone with medical skills that surpassed hers in Veridia?

She did not consider herself the best in the world, but it struck her as odd that she had never heard of such a proficient healer. And over the years, Finnian did not seem to have any friends.

The only person Finnian ever called a friend was her mother, and Vivienne had never met him even before her mother's passing. It was clear that even if Finnian had friends in the past, he no longer wished to associate with them.

Finnian, a man who would boast about a particularly intelligent parrot for weeks, would surely have mentioned such a formidable friend. Why the silence?

Caught by Vivienne's scrutinizing gaze, Finnian picked up his cup and took a sip to hide his discomfort. "Why are you looking at me like that, you rascal?"

of yours? And who's the one hunting you that you'd fake your death to

Let me explain. You've

exchanged a startled glance. "The ancient

families from the ancient warrior lineage were the Martinez and the

hunted by the Martinez

hand, Finnian dismissed the notion. "Neither. There are many in the ancient warrior lineage, and in modern times, only the Martinez and the Perez families are known. But my feud has nothing to

Perez family, they're good people. Don't

narrowed her eyes. "You've been keeping

to anyone, okay? Even though the ones after me aren't from the Martinez or Perez family, these ancient warrior lineages are interconnected. If they find out I'm alive, all my hiding would have

know." Vivienne breathed out, her mind swirling

the Perez and Martinez families

exactly was

was the identity of the mysterious healer who had

the curiosity burning in her eyes. He evaded her queries, fearing she

one to let go quickly. She slapped an IOU on the

right. Until then, drop it. There are things you're better off not knowing." Vivienne snatched the cup away from Finnian, denying him his sip. "Fine, don't tell me. But where are you living now? I'll move in with

his hands dismissively, "You're all grown up; a young lady shouldn't

healer must be sharing Finnian's living

to look after you. If your place is too small, I've got plenty of space. You could move in with me," Vivienne insisted, gripping Finnian's wrist tightly, her bright eyes

free his arm. "Go live with your fiancé. I'm not

Mr. Wolf's eighty million is

turned to Percival, who shrugged, saying, "In our family, Vivienne's