The Million-Dollar Heart

Chapter 923

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.

the town, I stumbled upon these

a shadow of recognition crossing her features. "I think I've seen these

at the time. It might take a while to dig that

want to get to the bottom of this. It could help us plan

a next move?" Arthur chimed in, entering with two

silent, her gaze shifting to the trays in

and Sasha. One plate bore thick slices of American toast topped with fried eggs and a generous squirt of ketchup, with Arthur drawing

bite. Truth be told, she wasn't much for Western breakfasts, having a preference

for any sign of approval. Vivienne ate quietly, giving nothing

taste, sweetheart? If it's not good, I'll

Vivienne for

not picky about food. It's alright, but I have a soft spot for traditional meals." Arthur's heart leapt at her response, blurting out, "I made a traditional breakfast

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

then starting

version. Vivienne separated the strawberry design

attempt at a traditional breakfast

charred mass with her fork. "Is this supposed to

sheepishly shook his head, muttering, "It was supposed to

chef. You'll get there!" As Sasha pushed a piece onto Vivienne's plate with a triumphant grin, implying there was no

strained properly. And as for

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