The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne) novel Chapter 493

Crashing his phone to the ground, Flynn unleashed a fury of stomps upon the shattered device.

"I lost. Take me in." Flynn's voice dripped with laziness as he raised his hands in mock surrender, tilting his head to catch Percival's gaze.

But then, with a swift bite, he crushed the cyanide hidden in his molar.

He had always known this day would come.

Even in death, he would not be cuffed by the likes of Percival!

Blood spilled from his mouth as he knelt, the light fading behind his designer spectacles, "Percival, you'll never unearth the kingpin behind GTO."

His laughter echoed through the dark alley, a spectral sound that chilled to the bone.

Yet, the agony he anticipated never arrived.

F-Poison had given him this poison, and it was a lethal concoction, sure death on contact. How was he still alive?

Lifting his head, Flynn locked eyes with Vivienne, whose expression was akin to someone watching a fool. It all clicked.

She, the Specter Healer, was behind this.

Vivienne towered over him, her aura that of a queen, "Wish to die?"

Flynn glared back, bitter. "There’s no grudge between us. My death serves you no ill!"

Her smile bloomed, radiant and short-lived, replaced by a chilling murderous intent. "Your death means nothing to me. But you dared cross Mr. Wolf. For that, I would have relished your end. However..."

Her smile returned as she said, "Since you so desire death, I won't oblige you."

His eyes narrowed, venomous. "There are a thousand ways to die if I wish it."

She tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her piercing gaze lifted slightly, "The poison I bestowed upon you, I named it 'Mandragora.' It will hijack your nerves. Should suicidal thoughts arise, it will paralyze your body. Moreover..."

Pausing, she continued, "It will tear at you, two hours each day, gnawing at your insides while leaving no physical mark. Enjoy the rest of your days."

Flynn's pupils dilated.

Before, he would have scoffed at such claims, but knowing she was the Specter Healer, he believed. Vivienne had the means to craft such a torturous venom.

He could face death, but not the dread of daily torment with no escape.

Vivienne's satisfaction was evident as she crouched to meet his eyes, her voice a cold, clear chime. "Cross me, you die. Cross those I care for, and you'll beg for death. White Tiger, if fate grants a next time, strike me first—you might find a quicker end."

Her words, calm and steady, bathed in sunlight, highlighted her majestic beauty.

All present made a silent vow never to provoke those dear to Vivienne; a life of suffering with no escape was too grievous a fate.

Percival's heart raced at her words, overwhelmed by the depth of her love.

Vivienne had given her all to him; he resolved to be worthy of her for the remainder of his days.

Without another word to Flynn, Vivienne rose and walked over to Percival.

He took her hand, signaling the waiting Vanguard Agency operatives with his free hand. They stormed in, securing Flynn.

Richard watched, lips pressed tightly, one last attempt for understanding, "Flynn, why?”