The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

In the midst of chaos, out of nowhere, a figure lunged towards the center of the commotion, a blood-dripping knife in hand, aiming straight for Vivienne and Percival. "Vivienne, Percival, this is the end for you!" She remembered vividly, it was Percival's henchmen who had forcefully taken her aboard that dreadful ship where they broke her limbs without mercy.

And later, to compel her into submission, they severed the tendons in her limbs.

Ever since, she harbored a deep-seated desire to exact her revenge on the pair.

Upon hearing the commotion, Vivienne merely lifted her gaze and, with a swift motion, sent the attacker flying five meters away with a powerful kick before the blade could even graze her.

The assailant hit the ground, coughing up blood, yet refused to relinquish the opportunity to end the lives of her targets.

As Vivienne approached, the assailant, with a determined grasp on the knife and a last-ditch effort, lunged at Vivienne, desperation fueling her attack.

But Vivienne caught her hand effortlessly, the blood from the knife dripping onto her clothes.

A malevolent glint flashed in the eyes of the fallen woman.

Charlotte, who was nearby, noticed the tell-tale red spots on the attacker's arm and went pale with fear. "Vivienne, get away from her, she's got an infectious disease!"

Hearing the words "infectious disease," Percival's face turned ashen. He quickly pulled Vivienne to safety and, using his powers, flung the attacker away.

"Vivienne, we need to get you out of those clothes now!"

The disheveled woman struggled to her feet, spitting blood continuously.

However, upon seeing Percival's protective stance over Vivienne, she let out a raspy laugh filled with vindication.

"Heaven has eyes!"

"Indeed, heaven does watch over us!"

"Vivienne, always so aloof, let's see how you fare in your next life after enduring the same vile afflictions that have plagued me." Members of the Nine Mystics Society quickly restrained the woman, intending to hand her over to their young master for judgment.

Upon seeing the woman's face, marked by a distinct scar, even Charlotte was taken aback. "My God, are you... Arabella Hawthorn?"

The name, long unspoken, triggered a profound reaction in Arabella, who glared at Charlotte with the ferocity of a cornered beast. "Don't you dare call me that name. I am not Arabella!"

Years of forced encounters, abortions, and confinement in a damp, cramped room had taken their toll on her, both physically and mentally.

was another woman who had given her a glimmer of hope, advising her to assume the identity of Paula Brooks and seek refuge with the Miller

woman didn't survive a month, succumbing to the brutal whims of a particularly

death, she had revealed a secret about

Mr. Wolf, also known as Percival, hastily removed her contaminated clothes and draped his jacket over her,

the first aid kit

Vivienne, "..."

Mr. Wolf had overlooked a crucial

poisons had rendered her immune to most toxins. Furthermore, as a Specter Healer, she could easily diagnose

heading to the

every drop of blood from

up, Mr. Wolf might

of research into poisons have made me immune

hospital!" Vivienne sighed, "Mr. Wolf, believe me, diseases carried in the blood pose no threat

him her unblemished arms and legs, "See,

looking up at her,

have altered our bodies. External threats can't harm us unless they enter our

but the initial shock had left him momentarily

his Vivienne to be

down, Vivienne approached

someone had taken the trouble to seek death, she

approached, the Nine Mystics Society

signaled for them to leave; she intended

three months, you'll

could finish, Vivienne's foot connected with her chest in a ruthless

it Abigail

in sweat from pain, couldn't muster a response,

next move. "Arabella, or

with

voice light and airy, "Oh, darling, hate to break it to you, but Paula? She isn't your real mother. Not by a long shot.

trembling with rage as she struggled against the ropes that bound her. She wanted nothing more than to tear Vivienne's lying mouth apart. What nonsense was

"That's impossible!"

not Arabella; I am Katara, the sole heiress of the

you say?

narrowed her