The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

Vivienne's brow twitched with intrigue, unable to quench her thirst for wealth. She watched Percival with a curious eye, his face a shade of deep annoyance.

A nearby staff member, unable to hold back, chimed in, "That's just low, stealing someone's boyfriend right in front of them?"

Brianna's face darkened, a storm brewing within her. She longed to lash out but instead set her sights on Percival. Her eyes fluttered with a mix of shyness and excitement, "What do you say, Percival? Join me, and I'll give you a cool $50,000 a month!"

"And if you agree," she added, a wicked gleam in her eye, "grab that woman next to you and the nosy staff member, and give them a piece of your mind!"

Brianna was sure he'd capitulate. $50,000 wasn't a small sum, after all. She, who splurged a million a month, considered this a generous offer.

Percival's expression darkened, his presence chilling. "Vivienne, she's offering $50,000 to buy me off. What's your move?"

Vivienne, amused, quirked an eyebrow and licked her lips, "Fifty thousand? That's quite the sum. I don't have $50,000, but how about $500,000 to keep you?" Without waiting for a response, she pulled him close for a deep, passionate kiss, their tongues dancing in fervor.

Percival, caught in the moment, wrapped his arms around her, returning her kiss with equal intensity.

When they finally parted for air, Brianna stood fuming, her anger boiling over. "You'll regret this!" Percival scoffed, "Regret? Hardly."

He turned to Brianna's security detail, his voice cold, "Grab her. I'll pay each of you a million."

lifetime for the Wrights might not even guarantee such a

per person? Is this

"Not enough? Let's

The guards hesitated, tempted.

the

staff member's eyes

don't have to

do it!"

in their

don't, she'll never let me live it down. Might as well goout with a bang and

"Just give back

to the ground, surprising even themselves with

raged, threatening vengeance, the staff member delivered a sharp

hit me!" Brianna

staff member struck again,

mean nothing. You, who look