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.

the midst of the settling dust, he remembered staring at the fragments scattered on

satisfaction that had welled up inside him at that moment had vanished without a

the white ashes mixed with the dirt, a throbbing pain shot through him, unsure which part

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

could he search? Was he supposed

his vision

close, finally settling on the ominous threat

a jolt, he snapped back from fear, "What's the use of blaming me? Vivienne is the thief, Dad! Instead of lecturing me, you

if she were found, the chances of retrieving

was just worried

need you to teach me how to

sharp crack sounded

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

gentle voice was soothing

feeling that if he were in front of Oliver, the vase would surely be

his mouth to defend himself, but Oliver's cold snort cut him off. "I seriously doubt your mother had any brains left when she had you! How did she manage to give birth to

no match for Jasper. He only had

over a deceased relative. Yet the

Vivienne!

little

blatant provocation

make matters worse, he couldn't find any

his foolish son to blame. None of this would have happened if he hadn't meddled. How could

refute. Or rather, he didn't dare say

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