The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne) novel Chapter 783

As the butler deliberated on the best response to appease Asher, a man hurriedly approached from the side, clutching a smartphone. "Young Master, it's the Boss on the phone."

Asher's pupils shrank, his breath coming in strained gasps. He swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he picked up the incessantly vibrating phone. The second he pressed the answer button, Oliver's furious roar blasted clearly into everyone's ears. "You bloody fool! What have you done?"

"I, I, I just wanted to capture Vivienne back. Dad, I…"

A man in his thirties, Asher believed he hadn't felt this cloak of fear enveloping his heart since reaching adulthood, leaving him stammering, devoid of any spirit to fight back. Even guilt crept in.

"Capture Vivienne, huh? Great, just great..." Oliver was panting heavily over the phone, and faintly, the soothing voice of a woman could be heard.

The sound of porcelain shattering clattered in his ears, and it was about five minutes later that Oliver, through gritted teeth and with venom in his voice, said, "Asher, have you lost your damn mind? A girl with no title, no status, and you're squabbling with her? You, get your ass back here now! Look at the mess you've made; how did I ever sire such a disappointment?"

Asher's heart skipped a beat. "Dad, what on earth happened? What did Vivienne do?"

"What did she do?" Oliver scoffed. "The Grimshaw family crypt has been desecrated, you tell me what happened? Asher, I'm telling you! You better pray your mother's urn can be found. Otherwise, forget about being the heir to this family!"

A chill ran through Asher.

Found?

Where could he possibly search?

The sound of the white porcelain urn shattering seemed to echo once again in his ears.

In the midst of the settling dust, he remembered staring at the fragments scattered on the ground.

The satisfaction that had welled up inside him at that moment had vanished without a trace.

Thinking of the white ashes mixed with the dirt, a throbbing pain shot through him, unsure which part was his mother's remains.

But he had viciously stomped on every patch of white. Even now, the soles of his shoes bore the residue of those ashes!

Where else could he search? Was he supposed to bring the broken pieces to Oliver?

Asher staggered, his vision darkening, his body swaying.

Oliver's roaring voice seemed distant, then close, finally settling on the ominous threat of a successor change.

With a jolt, he snapped back from fear, "What's the use of blaming me? Vivienne is the thief, Dad! Instead of lecturing me, you should be leading a search at the Perez estate!"

Of course, even if she were found, the chances of retrieving the stolen items were slim.

Swallowing hard, he subconsciously concealed the truth. His feet planted firmly on the ground, his hands at his sides shaking uncontrollably, "Dad, I was just worried Gavin would be duped by Vivienne; that's why I followed. I truly had no idea that this girl could be so extreme."

"You damn fool, do I need you to teach me how to handle my business?"

A sharp crack sounded again.

"Oliver, what are you doing? If you’ve got something to say, speak up. You’re about to smash all the vases in the house at this rate!"

The woman's gentle voice was soothing to the ear.

Asher couldn't help but tremble, feeling that if he were in front of Oliver, the vase would surely be aimed at his own head.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Oliver's cold snort cut him off. "I seriously doubt your mother had any brains left when she had you! How did she manage to give birth to such a towering idiot without a shred of sense? Wasn't last time embarrassing enough for you? You want to see your old man die quicker, is that it?"