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Chapter_641
Percival tightened his embrace, resting his forehead just above Vivienne’s brows, whispering tenderly,
“Looking at my Vivienne.”
My Vivienne.
Few words in the world could send Vivienne’s heart fluttering quite like those.
She felt as if she had plunged into a pool of spring water, her entire being drenched in its soothing
embrace.
Their gazes locked, neither willing to take a step closer.
In their eyes, there was only each other, each deeply etching the other’s features into their memory.
They tugged at each other, eyes speaking volumes.
Creak…
The lab door swung open, and Karen marched in, dragging Rex by the ear, the awkwardness in the
room thick enough to cut with a knife.
Karen was the first to snap out of it. “Carry on, lovebirds. I’ve got a bone to pick with this good-for-
nothing apprentice!”
Vivienne watched as Karen pulled Rex aside and, with a swift kick, sent him sprawling.
Meanwhile, she and Percival were still wrapped up in each other, fingers interlocked.
“Boss, your daughter’s over here making goo-goo eyes, and you’re not saying a peep? She’s underage
and being seduced by an older man—aren’t you gonna do something about it?”
Rex’s outburst was swiftly silenced by Karen’s expert move.
“If you don’t spill the beans on all those toxins you’ve been cooking up over the years, you might as
well forget about talking ever again.”
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Karen had zero tolerance for her underlings causing trouble.
If she had known Rex was actually Brody, she would have cut him down long ago!
Vivienne pursed her lips, conceding that when it came to inner strength, her mom was unbeatable.
“Old man, gonna let go, or do you want to play a live show?” Vivienne teased, pulling away with a
mischievous wink.
Percival let go, touched his nose awkwardly, and stepped forward, handing Karen a stun baton.
“Master, this might come in handy.”
The stun baton, a creation of Brody’s, could discharge a burst of high voltage at the push of a button
and was designed to simulate the debilitating force of a hurricane.
Karen gave the baton a twirl. “Not bad at all!”
Brody shot Percival a look of utter despair.
Alright, he got it.
Birds of a feather flock together—Karen was shamelessly cunning, Percival was sly and ruthless, and
Vivienne was wickedly sharp. None of them were saints!
After enjoying his moment of revenge, Percival, with Vivienne in tow, left the lab.
On the way, Vivienne relayed the events that had unfolded at Mara’s house to Percival, “Looks like
they’re targeting the Miller family again, trying to use them to stir up trouble within the Nine Mystics
Society and destabilize us.”
Vivienne had said a lot, but all Percival heard was: “Something, something… Aaron saw me today,
something, something…
“Alright, I got it.”
Vivienne paused, “Got what, exactly?”
Percival flashed a sly grin, deftly changing the subject, “Thomas called me earlier and said Gillian has
already reported to headquarters.”
“That quick? What position?” Vivienne inquired.
“She’s on par with Vance, appointed as the new Secretary-General. Officially, she’s there to learn, but
reality is she’s the main office’s eyes in Rivenwood.”
Ever since Percival left, Rivenwood’s Vanguard Agency became a thorn in Sea City’s side.
Everyone knew that the agents of Rivenwood’s Vanguard Agency were Percival’s people. Even with
him gone, their loyalties had departed with him.
To prevent Rivenwood from becoming entirely Percival’s domain, a new overseer was necessary.
Out of all the agents, they had to send Gillian, who had a grudge against Percival.
Webster’s message was clear: Rivenwood was not for Percival to rule alone.
Vivienne chuckled. “A spy? They should’ve at least picked someone with brains like Leopold—that’s
the bare minimum, and yet they sent her?”
Leopold: I feel like someone’s praising me… or maybe not.
Percival laughed. “Who can discern the main office’s true intent?”
At the Vanguard Agency, Vance called a disgruntled Thomas into his office.
“Gillian’s just arrived, unfamiliar with everything around here. As the captain of the headquarters, take
care of her, will you?”
Thomas was fed up—never had he seen a former suspect become his boss.
Vance’s eyes twinkled with the understanding of Thomas’ inner turmoil.
“The main office has cleared her. No issues there. Just focus on your job and show her around the
training ground.”
Thomas begrudgingly acknowledged. “Will do.”
With a wave of his hand, Vance dismissed Thomas.
He exhaled deeply, pondering over Gillian’s file.
Yorick had personally recommended her—Gillian was no small fry.
But no matter how he looked at it, her ties to the ancient warrior lineage were undeniable.
The Ashford family had long coveted the assets of the once-mighty Boyd family, an ancient warrior
lineage. Now, with Patrick Ashford locked up, Gillian Ashford had managed to join the Vanguard
Agency and been sent to Rivenwood.
It was hard to believe she had no connections to the ancient warrior lineage.
But who was backing her?
Thomas had just stepped out of his suburban home when he bumped into Gillian, who was on her way
to deliver some documents.
“Long time no see, Captain Thomas,” Gillian said with a smile, unfazed by the encounter.
Gillian’s smile froze, and a flicker of discomfort passed through her eyes.
Thomas’s words were far from pleasantries; they bordered on insult.
And his voice carried, loud and clear, ensuring that everyone in the busy neighborhood could hear.
Gillian’s composure was hanging by a thread, but she managed to hold it. “Yes, well, I was innocent. It
was just that at the time…”
“I’m not interested in ‘at the time,’ you’ve got three minutes to join me at the training field. Don’t be late,”
Thomas said, checking his watch with a stern face before shouting to everyone present, “Three
minutes, assemble!” Coոtent of Drąmanovеls.com
The whole Vanguard Agency was on high alert, more serious than if they were heading out on a
mission.
Thomas rarely used that tone, but when he did, it meant that today’s training was going to be brutal.
Gillian was still processing when the once noisy crowd had already geared up, ready to move out.
And there she was in her skirt and heels, hopelessly outpaced.
“Wait for me!” Gillian hastily dropped the documents and dashed to the locker room to change.
By the time she arrived at the parking lot, Thomas was already counting down the last ten seconds.
She hurried over, nearly tripping in her rush, and climbed into the vehicle, only to be told, “Sorry, Gillian,
this is the captain’s seat.”
“Then where do I sit?” Gillian asked, baffled.
The driver pointed to the trunk. “If you want to experience a day at the training field, you take the back.”
