Walter scratched his itchy chin, his voice tinged with hesitation, “Miss, maybe we should just head back.”

Vivienne, that woman was sharp as a tack.

Even if she hadn’t sniffed out the oddities, Percival surely would have.

Walter couldn’t fathom what Victoria was thinking.

To just drop Kaitlyn off at the suburban mall and then drag herself here to suffer – it was like setting herself up to be stood up.

As Walter silently grumbled, he dared not voice his true thoughts aloud.

Victoria was running out of patience.

It was getting late into the afternoon, and still, no one had shown up, which led her to bellow in frustration, “Looks like we’ve got

no choice but to go with plan B. We’re not waiting any longer! Let’s get out of here and deal with Vivienne later!”

The next day, at the Linklater residence.

Arthur had been tied up with business at the Vanguard Agency, and it was a rare moment for him to be home.

Yorick was taking his siesta, and he hadn’t allowed anyone to disturb him.

Ascending the stairs alone, Arthur pushed open the door to his father’s room and saw him reclining in his rocking chair, eyes closed

in repose.

Dracon was seated beside him, but at the sound of the door, he looked up.

Upon seeing Arthur, he quickly masked his irritation with deference and approached quietly, “Art…”

Arthur raised his hand to silence him, “Dad’s resting. Keep it down.”

Dracon’s eyes flickered with impatience, but he nodded respectfully and tiptoed back to his father’s side, his hands fidgeting

behind his back.

The moment Arthur’s gaze landed on his father, his eyes darkened, “Didn’t you say over the phone that Dad’s recovery was going

well? This doesn’t look right to me.”

In the sunlight, Yorick’s complexion was so pale it was almost translucent. His lips were chapped, and his once full cheeks were

now sunken.

He looked even more frail than when he had first awakened from surgery, as if he could pass away at any moment. Arthur could

only tell by the faint breathing that the old man was still clinging to life.

Dracon was both envious and fearful of his elder brother.

Faced with Arthur’s probing, sweat beaded on Dracon’s forehead. “Arthur, | didn’t mean to keep things from you. It’s Dad; he didn’t

want to distract you or Hector from your work, so he toldnot to tell you.”

His expression was one of helpless regret. “If you ask me, Dad’s just been too soft on Percival. He thinks the guy wouldn’t hurt him,

but you never can tell what’s going on inside someone’s head. And his wife, she was finally acknowledged by the Brooks family,

only to see them fall into ruin soon after. I’ve heard rumors that she wasn’t exactly innocent in that debacle. If Percival would marry

such a woman, what does that say about him?”

As Dracon raised his eyes to gauge Arthur’s unreadable reaction, he continued, “It was after taking the supplements Percival

brought that Dad got poisoned. Now, his condition’s been worsening day by day. I’m afraid only a Specter Healer can save him

now.”

“Specter Healer?”

Catching Arthur’s interest, Dracon let a barely detectable smile flicker across his face, “Yes, but this person is elusive; not just

anyone can find them. I’m just worried… I’m worried that Dad might not last until then.”

The fact that Vivienne was the Specter Healer was a closely guarded secret within the Linklater family, a secret Dracon had sealed

tightly.

Arthur, known as the War God of Veridia, would surely have the means to persuade Vivienne to help.

Of course, Dracon knew that if Arthur tried to strong-arm her, Vivienne might not be so amenable. It was the perfect scenafor

Dracon to sit back and watch the two of them duke it out for his own benefit.

“Arthur, | think we should take Percival into custody. He administered the poison, so he must have the antidote!” Dracon rambled

on.

Arthur’s eyes flashed imperceptibly, “I will have someone search for the Specter Healer. As for Dad, a professional caregiver will be

arriving in a few days to look after him. You can take stto rest.”

“What?”

Dracon had expected Arthur to be difficult to deceive but had not expected to be sidelined, “Arthur, don’t you trust me? | know I’m

the black sheep of the family. I’ve never made anyone proud. All my sisters have their achievements, and I’m the only one who’s

fallen short. But I’ve been with Dad for years. No one knows his condition better than | do. Bringing in a stranger all of a sudden…

I’m afraid Dad won’t take well to it.”

Their conversation had been long enough to rouse Yorick from his deep slumber.

Blinking awake, his cloudy eyes swept over Dracon with an inscrutable look, “I agree with your brother. You need a break; go rest

for a while.”

“Dad!”

Arthur spoke in a low tone, “Dracon, step outside for a moment. Dad and | have things to discuss. You can cback later.”

In her apartment, Vivienne finally had a moment to herself.

Percival had gone out early to deal with the Ellington family business, leaving with Richard for the office. She had hoped to catch

up on smuch-needed sleep.

Just as she was drifting off, the doorbell jarringly rang.

Annoyed, she rose from her bed, her hair a tangled mess, and trudged to the door with a face full of sleep-induced irritation.

Anna was startled by Vivienne’s disgruntled appearance. “I’m sorry, Vivienne. Is this a bad time?”

Aaron, quick to spot the love bites hidden beneath Vivienne’s raven hair, blinked with understanding, “Vivienne, please don’t tell

He nudged Anna through the door. “Not to be rude, but you’ve got to talk to Percival about moderation. Look at those dark circles

under your eyes; it breaks my heart to see them. Doesn’t he care at all?”

Vivienne couldn’t care less about the idle chatter. “Alright, you two, what’s the real reason you’re here?”

She plopped down on the couch with all the grace of a sack of potatoes, sprawling out as if posing for a bad painting.

Aaron, seeing her distress, immediately started playing the butler, fixing her a cup of coffee and cutting up sfresh fruit with

the kind of zeal usually reserved for tending to a revered family matriarch.

Anna couldn’t help but smirk. “When the cat’s away, the mice will play,” she thought to herself.

It was clear as day that Aaron was trying to muscle in on Percival’s turf.

But meddling in their affairs wasn’t Anna’s style. She silently observed the scene, surreptitiously texting Percival to hint at Aaron’s

impromptu visit.

Seeing Vivienne, who had finally perked up and sat up straight under Aaron’s overzealous care, Anna got to the point. “Ms.

Vivienne, | just wanted to ask about Soren’s injury. When’s he going to be fully recovered?”

Caught in the crosshairs of Vivienne’s suddenly inquisitive gaze, Anna’s face turned a shade of crimson.

“Why—why are you staring atlike that?” she stammered.