The Million-Dollar Heart

Chapter 783

As the butler deliberated on the best response to appease Asher, a man hurriedly approached from the side, clutching a smartphone. "Young Master, it's the Boss on the phone."

Asher's pupils shrank, his breath coming in strained gasps. He swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he picked up the incessantly vibrating phone. The second he pressed the answer button, Oliver's furious roar blasted clearly into everyone's ears. "You bloody fool! What have you done?"

"I, I, I just wanted to capture Vivienne back. Dad, I..."

A man in his thirties, Asher believed he hadn't felt this cloak of fear enveloping his heart since reaching adulthood, leaving him stammering, devoid of any spirit to fight back. Even guilt crept in. "Capture Vivienne, huh? Great, just great..." Oliver was panting heavily over the phone, and faintly, the soothing voice of a woman could be heard.

The sound of porcelain shattering clattered in his ears, and it was about five minutes later that Oliver, through gritted teeth and with venom in his voice, said, "Asher, have you lost your damn mind? A girl with no title, no status, and you're squabbling with her? You, get your ass back here now! Look at the mess you've made; how did I ever sire such a disappointment?"

Asher's heart skipped a beat. "Dad, what on earth happened? What did Vivienne do?"

"What did she do?" Oliver scoffed. "The Grimshaw family crypt has been desecrated, you tell me what happened? Asher, I'm telling you! You better pray your mother's urn can be found. Otherwise, forget about being the heir to this family!"

A chill ran through Asher.

Found?

Where could he possibly search?

The sound of the white porcelain urn shattering seemed to echo once again in his ears.

dust, he remembered staring at

up inside him at that moment had vanished without

a throbbing pain shot through him, unsure

viciously stomped on every patch of white. Even now, the soles of his shoes bore the residue

Was he supposed

his vision

finally settling

fear, "What's the use of blaming me? Vivienne is the thief, Dad! Instead of lecturing me,

course, even if she were found, the chances of

hard, he subconsciously concealed the truth. His feet planted firmly on the ground, his hands at his sides shaking uncontrollably, "Dad, I was just worried Gavin

damn fool, do I need you to teach me how to handle my

sharp crack

what are you doing? If you've got something to say, speak up. You're

voice was

help but tremble, feeling that if he were in front of Oliver, the vase would surely be aimed at his own

off. "I seriously doubt your mother had any brains left when she had you! How did she manage to give birth to such a towering idiot

He only had the numbers to overwhelm

now was not the time for a fallout with the Perez family over a deceased relative. Yet the

Vivienne!

a vindictive little creature

blatant provocation of

worse, he couldn't find

would have happened if he hadn't meddled. How could it have

words to refute. Or rather,

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