Leopold and Matthew had just finished loading the Abernathy family into the van, including Cormac, when the stench inside hit them like a wave, almost driving them back out the door. But seeing Vivienne and the others frozen by the bedside, Leopold steeled himself and stepped inside.

The woman on the bed was a shadow of her former self, her hair tangled and matted like weeds upon the pillow. Her face was streaked with dirt, and it looked like the Abernathys hadn't bothered to clean her in ages. If it weren't for the faint rise and fall of her chest, Leopold might have mistaken her for a corpse.

Wait a minute!

Those features...

How come she looked a bit like Percival?

Realizing this, Leopold's pupils dilated, his finger pointing shakily at the woman on the bed.

Then he glanced at Percival, whose stony face was unreadable, and noticed the air around him growing colder and heavier. Leopold took a step back, feeling as if his throat had been seized. He couldn't manage to utter a complete sentence.

Finally, it was Vivienne who broke the silence. "Mr. Wolf, let's get her out of here first."

She was genuinely shocked. They had only come to fetch a witness back to Rivenwood, and here they were, stumbling upon the very person Percival had spent years searching for.

Mr. Wolf's aunt, the Ellington heiress-Holly Ellington!

"Gavin Abernathy!"

of light, leaving their car in the darkness, save for the occasional flash of headlights that flickered before Vivienne's eyes. Percival, with lips pressed together and eyes as cold

seemed to

almost eerie in the pitch-black setting, yet Vivienne heaved a sigh of relief as she said, "Mr. Wolf, trust me, I

couldn't control the hatred bubbling up inside him toward Gavin and

of respect for her status as the Ellington heiress, she would be placed in an unknown hospital with professional care

had pulled back the covers, even he couldn't suppress

that foul stench lingering around

that soiled and stained blanket was Holly's withered body, wounds festering and crawling

moment, Percival felt

that those people were still useful. But the agony he felt for Holly and the hatred for the Abernathys set

himself to bury his head deeper into Vivienne's stomach, his

eyes. "Mr. Wolf, the dead do not deserve our hatred." Matthew

time he had seen such a

ancient warrior lineage was formidable, but was Vivienne

someone hurt a person Vivienne cared about, they couldn't just hand their life over to the Grim Reaper

he glanced at the caller ID before saying, "Vivienne, it's

"Hand it over."

the phone

cool yet tinged with anger, came through, "Young Master, there's been

Vivienne didn't need to guess;

and are threatening

grip on the phone tightened as she inhaled deeply.

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