The Million-Dollar Heart novel Chapter 746

At this very moment, even a brief second of tranquility was more than Ramona could bear.

She had been rattled to her core by the surveillance footage, tears streaming down her face as she screamed, “This is it! I’ve said all I can say! Please, please let me go! I haven’t even started anything! It wasn’t me who messed with your mom; it was all the Grimshaws. I was cornered. I was truly forced!”

Vivienne settled back on the couch, her gaze drifting lightly over Ramona. It was unclear whether she believed her or not. She crossed her legs and said nothing.

Percival had been silent since the beginning, his eyes only on Vivienne, not deviating in the slightest, playing the role of the devoted husband to perfection. Ramona’s eyes flickered swiftly.

It seemed like a flash of resentment passed through them.

But it was so quick no one saw.

“Ma’am.” Anna stood by her, Ramona’s tireless voice echoing in her ears.

She turned a deaf ear, simply waiting for Vivienne’s command.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed before Vivienne finally spoke indifferently, “Let her go.”

The evening wind sliced across Ramona’s face like a blade.

She sped along the freeway, scenes from the night's confrontation with Vivienne racing through her mind.

Her heart burned with fury!

If it weren’t for the mission, if her meridians hadn’t been altered, preventing her from using force!

She would've twisted Vivienne’s head off herself!

Ramona’s eyes were dark with malice, focused on the road ahead, completely oblivious to the black car tailing her closely.

In an unseen corner, two figures vanished swiftly into the darkness.

After passing the Rivenwood toll booth, they headed straight for the suburbs!

When Matthew's message came through, Vivienne had just finished her nightly routine and was ready for bed. His message read, [Donald is on it; the target is moving towards Capital Edge Estates, still in transit.]

Vivienne replied, [Keep on her tail; we need to know who’s behind Ramona.]

With a few terse messages sent, Vivienne turned off her phone.

...

The next day.

As Vivienne opened her eyes, Percival was already gone from her side.

She checked her phone, and a message from Matthew popped up immediately, [At seven sharp this morning, we lost contact with Donald, suspect danger!]

"What happened?"

Without hesitation, Vivienne got out of bed and called Matthew.

His voice was a bit rushed but composed, "I was in contact with Donald last night, but this morning, there’s been no response to calls or texts. We've heard from the people watching Ramona’s place that she's back from the suburbs, but there's still no word from Donald..."

Vivienne ordered, “Alert everyone, find Donald—dead or alive!”

She hung up quickly, then dialed Draven, "Issue the Order of Nine Mystics Society, search every nook of Rivenwood, including the suburbs. We must find Donald."

She couldn’t afford to delay.

Quickly dressed, Vivienne grabbed her gear and headed out.

Just as she stepped out of the apartment, her phone vibrated. She checked it swiftly, not Matthew, not Draven.

But the text that came was chilling enough, [Next time, I won’t go easy on you!]

After the threatening words was a picture of Donald tied to a post, strapped with the latest model of a time bomb—instead of gunpowder, the glass vials were filled with an unknown green liquid.

The sender even had the audacity to include the address of the mansion.

Vivienne’s pupils shrank with fury as she replied, [Who dares to hurt mine will pay with their life!]

...

The Ellington family.

Huxley had finally regained his freedom after that interrogation. But he hadn’t kept his head down for long.

Messages from the other side came daily, as if certain he posed no threat, urging him to proceed with the next step.

“Stop right there!”

Early in the morning, as Huxley was sneaking out like always, a delicate voice suddenly burst forth, startling him.

He turned to see Mara and breathed a sigh of relief, "You scared me half to death. What are you doing up this early?"

Mara, arms crossed, stepped forward, "I should be asking you that. Have you forgotten what it felt like to be locked up by that maniac Vivienne? What have you been up to these days, sneaking around? Didn’t you say you were going to take over the Ellington family? There’s been no action."

Huxley replied, "What’s the rush? I’m waiting for the right moment. When it comes, you’ll have your chance to shine."

Mara huffed, "I don’t care what you’re planning, just remember this—I’m still at Vivienne’s mercy. If you have even a shred of sibling love left, don’t drag me down with you, or I won’t be so kind!"

In terms of presence, Mara, having grown up with Wendy, always had the upper hand over Huxley.

Just being stared down by her, the naturally timid Huxley felt a chill at his core and involuntarily stepped back.

After a moment of flickering eyes, Huxley gathered his courage to face Mara, "What are you thinking? How could I possibly harm you? I’m just not content with being under Vivienne’s thumb."

He pulled out his phone, showing her a photo, "This was sent to me the other day. It’s a picture of Gillian, given to me by some stranger. I heard Vivienne locked her in a lab for experiments. I’m scared, scared that one day, it could be us in there. So, I have to strike decisively. I can’t be hasty."

“This, this is Gillian?”

Mara stared at the woman in the phone, sprawled out on the ground like a lump of mud.

Her tangled hair made it impossible to see her true face, but the scars on her body were so horrific that one glance was unbearable.

She covered her mouth, feeling a wave of nausea at the sight.

Feeling a wave of nausea, Mara didn't wait for Huxley's response and dashed for the bathroom!

It was horrifying!

Was she going to end up looking that ghastly?

...

Meanwhile, in a downtown apartment.

Ramona returned from the suburbs and collapsed on her own living room couch.

Her eyes were swollen from a sleepless night, and her head throbbed with a pulsing pain.

But she dared not sleep, or rather, she couldn't.

The photo Vivienne had ordered to be posted online yesterday had exploded on social media today, with all manner of sharp and bitter comments, insults heaped upon her.

[Guess the girl-next-door act was all a sham. You think she's an angel, but she's really a siren.]

[I've always had a hunch. Ramona's rise to fame was too slick. Now I get it. No wonder she's famous; she wakes up in a different bed every day.]

[Talk about a boomerang hitting back hard. Just yesterday, her fans were trashing our Kala, and today, their queen's castle has crumbled. Cheers to that!]

[How can Ramona even compare to Kala? At least Kala has some real talent. What does Ramona have? A résumé of pillow talk with industry bigwigs?]

Damn it!

All these people, they should all pay!

No video, just one picture, and they dare to judge her like this?