The Million-Dollar Heart novel Chapter 652

Yorick Linklater squinted his eyes, truly oblivious to the fact that his most well-behaved son had been stirring up such trouble behind his back.

To think his son had even ventured into the black market, exploiting his privileges!

He had surely underestimated this wretched boy!

The next moment, Yorick's boot connected viciously with Dracon's jaw, nearly shattering it. "You beast, shut your mouth! Worthless trash!"

Dracon was in too much pain to speak.

Yorick, tired of the spectacle, settled back into his chair. "Percival, come in."

Percival stepped through the door, his steely gaze briefly sweeping over the maggot writhing on the floor. "Yorick."

"This mess is my fault for not keeping a tighter leash. I'll cover all the losses the Brooks family has suffered. Go back and tell Vivienne not to fret about the bionic tech incident. I'll look into it discreetly. As for F-Poison, we're blind until she surfaces again."

Percival was of the same mind. "Understood."

Yorick exhaled deeply, producing a contract. "Take this as compensation for Vivienne and the Brooks family. We'll address the losses separately."

Percival scanned the document—it was an international business contract. Without lifting a finger, they'd rake in thirty billion dollars a year.

He pocketed the contract unceremoniously. Vivienne, the little money-hoarder, would probably forgive all his transgressions at the sight of it!

"Yorick, I'll take my leave then." Percival grinned, knowing full well that Dracon was not his problem to handle.

With Dracon silenced by Yorick and Gillian taken away for investigation, it seemed peace would reign, at least for a while.

Matthew held the contract with a grin that threatened to split his face. Thirty billion dollars! That was his salary for three whole years! Now, with this windfall, he could certainly petition Vivienne for a bonus.

Percival shook his head at the sight of Matthew's glee, musing how he mirrored Vivienne's expression when it came to money. No wonder Leopold pinched pennies like no other—it was an Emerald Mountain tradition!

"Achoo!" Leopold sneezed so violently as soon as he woke up that he nearly tore his sutures.

Griffin rushed to steady him. "Didn't I tell you to take it easy? Are you trying to undo your stitches? Do you have any idea how many wounds you have?"

Griffin had been a constant presence at the hospital, forgoing sleep to watch over Leopold. Now that he was awake, her eyes were nearly swollen shut from worry.

"I'm fine. It's got to be Percival badmouthing me behind my back—why else would I be sneezing?" Leopold protested, propped up in bed, swathed in bandages, his only mobility in his restless eyes. "Griffin, you didn't tell my folks, did you?"

Griffin shook her head. "No. Dad mentioned your father's not been well; didn't want to worry him."

Leopold relaxed. "Good. They'd be fretting over nothing. Ow, I'm starving. Is Soren awake yet?"

Griffin, balancing a thermos of food, replied while feeding Leopold, "Still out. Anna's with him. Don't worry, Vivienne said it's just the anesthesia—he'll wake up later."

Leopold chewed his meal, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, with Vivienne and Boss on it, he'll be fine. No worries."

Despite his nonchalance, Leopold's eyes darted toward the door.

Griffin, understanding his concern, fetched a wheelchair and helped Leopold to Soren's room.

"You guys aren't usually this chummy. Can't it wait?" Griffin fretted over Leopold's injuries.

"I just need some fresh air," Leopold grumbled.

They arrived at Soren's room to find Karen and Vivienne chatting outside. Vivienne frowned at Leopold. "Who let you out?"