The Million-Dollar Heart Novel Episode
Chapter 679

Faye puckered her lips and scoffed dismissively. "It's just for convenience, you know. I've only met Carl a handful of times. It was his uncle Scott and my dad who arranged our marriage from the start. We were bound to be linked by marriage sooner or later, so we figured we might as well choose someone we knew. That was the deal between us. Besides, Carl had a thing for Calista and almost called off our engagement. It was only his brother Ronald who stepped in and stopped him."

Charlotte, always keen for some juicy gossip, prodded further. "How do you know it was Ronald who stopped him, not Carl himself wanting to stay engaged?"

"Are you kidding? He was head over heels for Calista at the time. There's no way he wanted to stay engaged. He told me himself that Ronald convinced him to stick it out for the sake of the Brooks family, suggesting that eventually, he'd break off the engagement with me."

"Pfft, I never realized Ronald was such a smooth talker. Now that his brother's in a coma, I don't see him pushing to call off the engagement. When exactly was he planning to do that?"

Just outside the door, Zachary happened to pass by and overheard Faye's conversation, his expression growing even more somber.

He didn't knock but instead went to find Vivienne.

"Madam, the warehouse has been unsealed, but they still took two robots from each of our warehouses for sampling and investigation," he reported.

Vivienne was already aware of the situation. "Let them take their samples. I suspect that's their real objective anyway."

"But, Madam," Zachary continued, "while questioning the agents, I managed to get a look at the serial numbers of the malfunctioning robots. They were all defective models that should have been destroyed long ago. There's definitely a mole inside our organization. I suspect..."

"Just focus on what you're doing; I'm on top of it," Vivienne cut in. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FɪndNovᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Reassured, Zachary agreed. "Alright, I'll follow your lead. And about Carl - do you need my help? I have some influence in M State; maybe I could find him."

"No need. Someone's already on it."

Vivienne's smile was cryptic as she dismissed the topic.

Meanwhile, in a secluded manor in Rivenwood, Dracon sat staring out the window. This was Linklater territory, where no one dared to intrude; not even Vivienne or Percival's reach could extend here. Soon after, a man in a dark suit entered, carrying a bottle of fine red wine.

Dracon sneered without turning his head. "What's this? F-Poison too scared to show up on Linklater turf? Coward."

The man wasn't ruffled; he calmly opened the red wine and poured it into a decanter, saying, "A married woman can't simply come out to meet Mr. Linklater alone."

Dracon scoffed again. "You RST folks sure know how to play. Which number are you in her list of men?"

"Mr. Linklater, I am not yet married," the man responded, maintaining a genteel smile as he faced Dracon.

Dracon felt an inexplicable chill, an ominous pressure that unsettled him. Straightening up, he demanded, "Out with it. What do you want?"

The man's grin deepened. "We know you want nothing more than to rescue Ms. Diana from Vivienne's clutches. We have located Diana."

At the mention of Diana's name, Dracon's eyes lit up. "You found Diana? Where is she? Is she alright? Has Vivienne been troubling her?" The man casually cut into his steak as if slicing through Dracon's patience.

Growing anxious, Dracon grabbed the man's wrist. "I'm talking to you. Are you deaf?"

With a swift move, the man flipped his hand, driving the steak knife toward Dracon's hand. Dracon jerked back just in time to avoid injury.

Glaring at the man in shock, Dracon heard him say, "Mr. Linklater, we have a partnership. GTO is not at your service."

Dracon swallowed hard and asked again, "Where is Diana?"

The man chuckled, dabbing his lips with a napkin. "There's a little issue with Percival lately. If you could... take care of him for us, then I could share Diana's whereabouts. What do you say?" Dracon frowned. "If Percival was so easy to deal with, would you still be having trouble with him?"

The man wagged a finger. "You managed to send Gillian to Vanguard Agency. Dealing with Percival should be simple for you. Here's a hint."

Dracon listened intently as the man continued, "Percival recently visited Yorick, remember? He even brought some gifts."

Watching the man leave, Dracon was torn.

After all, Yorick was his father.

As the man got into his car, he dialed F-Poison. "Yes, but I doubt he's got the guts for it."

Poisoning his biological father wasn't something done lightly.

And besides, Dracon was, in essence, a bit of a lost cause - all bark and no bite. If he had the nerve to risk it all, he wouldn't be in the predicament of relying on his father just to survive. F-Poison's laughter came through the phone. "It's when a lost cause is cornered that they might find the courage to act."

Often, to prove themselves, they challenge what they fear most.

And for Dracon, the quintessential lost cause, his greatest fear was his father - that untouchable figure looming over him. Listening to F-Poison's words, a chuckle couldn't help but escape the man's lips. "Well then, I guess I'll have to add fuel to the fire." The moment Dracon stepped through the front door, a palpable tension greeted him.

His father, Yorick, sat brooding in the living room, casting a somber glance as his son entered.

"Dad, why are you still up at this hour? What's the matter?" Dracon asked, his voice tinged with guilt, unsure of how to confront his father. Yorick stood up, his movements slow but deliberate, and approached Dracon. Without warning, he delivered a sharp slap across his son's face.

Despite nearing his centennial, Yorick's strength had not waned in the slightest.

Dracon was sent sprawling to the floor, gazing up at his father in disbelief.

Yorick barked, "For years, you've been riding on my coattails, throwing your weight around town!"

"Dad, what are you talking about? I don't understand," Dracon stammered, retreating a few steps, his anxiety mounting.

Over the years, Dracon had exploited Yorick's reputation to line his pockets, seize business opportunities, and gain unfair advantages. He was acutely aware that he lacked the talents of his brothers; if he didn't capitalize on his father's influence while the old man was still around, his future looked bleak. So he opted to pad his wallet while he was young - that was the only way to ensure he had a fighting chance at a bright future.

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