The Million-Dollar Heart

Sasha leaned on her hand with a smirk, grasping a first aid kit in the other, diligently applying ointment to Vivienne's bruised cheek.

Vivienne's lips, a shade of crimson, curled slightly. "This jacket of mine is barely holding together, might as well let him throw in the towel."

Sasha's brows knitted slightly at the comment, pressing a bit harder with the ointment. Vivienne hissed, "Geez, tough love! Got a husband and forgot your daughter, huh?"

"Zip it, or my hand might 'accidentally' slip, making you yelp in pain," Sasha retorted, pinching Vivienne's chin.

The banter went back and forth between the mother and daughter, with Vivienne occasionally dropping hints about her latest findings.

"Just the other day, I mentioned that case where the woman's heart was harvested. It wasn't an isolated incident; there have been disappearances elsewhere too. Yesterday, Mr. Wolf and I tracked a lead to a small town, and if I'm not mistaken, that place is swarming with snipers."

"What's odd, though, is that when Mr. Wolf and I entered, nobody took a shot at us. Logically, they should've taken us out on sight."

Sasha furrowed her brows, her tone grave, "You and Percival might be carrying something they need."

Vivienne seemed to agree with that theory. But what could it be that they needed?

Shifting gears, Vivienne dipped her finger in a glass of water, sketching symbols she recalled seeing in the town on the dining table.

Each symbol appeared simple yet was difficult to replicate accurately. She managed to draw them roughly on the table.

visit to the town, I stumbled upon these symbols. Mom, do you recognize any of

these symbols in a book before, but not

didn't delve deep into it at the time. It might take a while to dig that information

get to the bottom of this.

a next move?" Arthur chimed in, entering with

silent, her gaze shifting to the trays in Arthur's

thick slices of American toast topped with fried

be told, she wasn't much for Western breakfasts, having a preference for something more

sign of approval. Vivienne ate quietly, giving

himself, Arthur asked, "How's the taste, sweetheart? If

gaze urged Vivienne for a serious

have a soft spot for traditional meals." Arthur's heart leapt at her response,

the chaos of his kitchen experiments, none of which turned out

finishing her toast and then starting on the second slice, her expression changing slightly

version. Vivienne separated the strawberry design with

his attempt at a traditional breakfast and a jug of

poking at a charred mass with her fork. "Is this supposed to be a

his head, muttering, "It was supposed to

out. Keep practicing, and maybe get some tips from the chef. You'll get there!" As Sasha pushed a piece onto Vivienne's plate with a triumphant grin, implying there was no escaping

properly. And as for this 'great