The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne)

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.Content © NôvelDrama.Org 2024.

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

"Yesterday, during my visit to the town, I stumbled upon these symbols. Mom, do you recognize any of them?"

Sasha glanced over, a shadow of recognition crossing her features. "I think I've seen these symbols in a book before, but not from around here. They're from a foreign text."

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

Vivienne nodded in understanding. "Thanks, Mom. I want to get to the bottom of this. It could help us plan our next move."

"What's this about a next move?" Arthur chimed in, entering with two trays.

Vivienne went silent, her gaze shifting to the trays in Arthur's hands.

Arthur proudly placed the breakfast he prepared in front of Vivienne and Sasha. One plate bore thick slices of American toast topped with fried eggs and a generous squirt of ketchup, with Arthur drawing two big smiley faces on them to cheer up his daughter.

Vivienne, spotting the toast's smiley faces, paused, then stoically took a bite. Truth be told, she wasn't much for Western breakfasts, having a preference for something more traditional.

Arthur watched her face for any sign of approval. Vivienne ate quietly, giving nothing away.

Unable to contain himself, Arthur asked, "How's the taste, sweetheart? If it's not good, I'll make it again."

Sasha's gaze urged Vivienne for a serious critique.

With a sigh, Vivienne admitted, "I'm 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 too, it's in the kitchen..."

Immediately regretting his words, he

remembered the chaos of his kitchen experiments, none of which turned out presentable.

Disheartened by the missed

opportunity, he saw Vivienne el.net

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

The festive red ketchup artfully outlined a strawberry cheesecake, albeit a simplified version. Vivienne separated the strawberry design with her fork, tasting it and said, "Bring it out then. Wasting food is shameful."

Arthur hurried to the kitchen, returning with his attempt at a traditional breakfast and a jug of homemade soy milk.

Vivienne eyed the food skeptically, poking at a charred mass with her fork. "Is this supposed to be a sausage gone wrong?"

Arthur sheepishly shook his head, muttering, "It was supposed to be traditional."

Seeing Arthur's culinary disaster, Sasha felt a mix of sympathy and pride, patting him on the back. "You're just starting 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 this meal, Vivienne reluctantly took a sip of the soy milk, grimacing at its gritty texture...

She sighed deeply, "This soy milk hasn't been strained properly. And as for this 'great task', I think it's best left to Comrades Arthur and Sasha!"

Sasha flatly refused, "No way, your dad made this especially for you. You have to eat it all!"

Curiosity getting the better of her, Vivienne inquired, "So what is this mysterious black lump?"

Arthur reluctantly named the dish, his expression twisted with regret, "It's... supposed to be molasses rice cake..."

Vivienne was speechless. Arthur's version of the molasses rice cake was nothing like she remembered. The shape, the texture, all were off, making her wonder if molasses rice cakes were ever meant to be cylindrical.

Once again, Arthur had managed to surprise her, not necessarily in a good way. Wiping her mouth with a napkin, she commented, "Looks like the molasses was overdone, turned to charcoal."

Vivienne shook he

filled with images of Percival

cooking. Mr. Wolf's culinary skills weren't just delicious-they were a feast for the eyes, too. She made a

mental note to order more often

when she was around him!

Sasha tapped Vivienne's head with a fork, "What's this about too much brown sugar? It's clear as day the oil was too hot! Even I can see that, and here you are, pretending to know better!" Vivienne, "..."

Really?

Regardless, the brown sugar did play a part...

If Percival were sitting here, he'd surely understand whose cooking talent Vivienne had inherited. Arthur all smiles, chimed in, "Let's not argue about this anymore. The dish might have been a flop this time, but darling, I'll whip up breakfast for you every morning with all sorts of tricks up my sleeve!"

Making breakfast for his darling daughter every day, improving with each attempt, he was sure one day he'd win over her stomach! And with that, their relationship would surely grow stronger! Unaware of Arthur's little schemes, Vivienne turned and headed upstairs back to her room, "You don't have to make breakfast every day. Keep trying, though. It's a long road ahead."