The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

The evening drizzle cast a somber tune against the windowpanes of a cozy suburban home.

Mara lounged in the living room after dismissing her evening help, swirling a glass of Cabeas she stared blankly at the ceiling.

The front door swung open, but Mara did not flinch.

A chill draft swept through, prompting Mara to frown. “Ever heard of closing the door?” “Always such a stickler for details, aren't you?” At the doorway, a woman shook off her umbrella, her stilettos clicking on the hardwood floor as she strode in.

The rhythmic tap of the heels only heightened Mara’s irritation, her frown growing deeper. “You've never had an ounce of manners.” The woman sat down, her flawless features stark against Mara’s scar-streaked visage.

Eyeing the woman's perfect complexion, Mara’s gaze turned venomous, a visceral urge to shatter her wine glass and scar that pristine face.

To aerate the expensive wine with her blood! “Gillian, didnt I tell you to cover that revolting face when you see me?” This was the woman who had once been incarcerated for willful harm, Gillian Ashford! Gillian snorted with contempt, crossing her long legs. “Compared to yours, | think my face is the least of our worries.” Mara stood abruptly, fury in her eyes, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than to throttle the life out of Gillian.

Gillian, however, nonchalantly gestured. “Sit down and 8, to what I' have to say, or you'll regret it.” Mara clenched her jaw, reluctantly sitting back down.

Then, she scoffed. “We're both no better than lapdogs, Gillian. Do you think you're still the darling of Sea City? I've got news for you - you're nothing now. So quit parading around like you're high and mighty, bitch.” “Watch your mouth,” Gillian snapped back, “Do you think you're any better?” “I'm no saint, and neither are you.” The two women glared at each other, neither willing to back down until a clap of thunder outside drew their attention away from their standoff.

After a moment, Gillian produced two photographs from her bag.

“This is Aaron Miller. He's a senior at Elite University, aiming for a master’s in finance, and he’s the heir to the Miller family.” Mara gave Gillian a withering look, picking up Aaron’s photo. “Isn't this the genius gamer?” Matching Mara’s disdain, Gillian retorted, “Yes, last season’s champion. He's also Vivienne’s protege. He seems quite taken with her, collecting all sorts of information on her. Your task is to get close to him and drive a wedge between them.” Mara laughed derisively. “Shouldn’t you be the one doing this? Luring men is more your speed. Your goal and his align perfectly - you want to marry Percival, right?” “Mara, this is serious. Don’t forget our master’s orders,” Gillian reminded sharply.

At the mention of their master, Mara shivered, her tone becoming more subdued. “What else?” Gillian huffed quietly, “For now, that’s it. Oh, and Kenneth from the Ellington family is also at Elite University. He seems to be in touch with Anna from Vanguard Agency, and that woman is trouble. Kenneth’s close with Aaron; you might be able to kill two birds with one stone.” “Fine. Now leave. | can’t stand the sight of you,” Mara finished her wine in one gulp, clearly dismissing Gillian.

Gillian was all too eager to leave. Their friendship had been one of convenience; Mara was from the Boyd family, a family with a sterling reputation, and she was Percival’s cousin. There was no real love lost between them.

“Watch yourself,” Gillian said as she left.

As the rain grew heavier, Mara sat in the dark, clutching Aaron’s photo with growing resentment.

“Vivienne, just wait.” After the rain, Elite University was fragrant with the scent of cherry blossoms, the air fresh and clear.

But Aaron’s mood was far from sunny.

For convenience, he had bought an apartment between the university and the company, though he had kept his dorm room unoccupied.

Since Kenneth arrived on campus, peace had been scarce in Aaron’s dorm.

He had cto retrieve something from his room when he was greeted by the sight of a freshly showered Kenneth, casually strolling about in the nude.

Aaron nearly lost it, half-tempted to cry out for security at the sight.

“Can’t you see it’s raining? Close the door! It's cold,” Kenneth said nonchalantly, grabbing a soda from the fridge and taking a swig.

Aaron flung the door wide open. “You know it’s cold, and you're drinking that? | wish it would freeze you solid!” With the door open, passersby got an eyeful of Kenneth’s indecency, and their laughter punctuated the hallway.

“Have you no shame? Close the door,” Kenneth rushed to secure their privacy.

Aaron, disgusted by the litter of clothes and underwear on his bed, opted for the small sofa instead.

“You're talking toabout shame?” Aaron chided. “This is my dorm, remember?” Leaning back on the bed carelessly, Kenneth replied, “We're all friends here. What's the big deal?” “Friends? Since when?” Aaron scowled. “Can’t you put on sclothes?” “I just showered. Letting it all hang out,” Kenneth said with a shrug. “Besides, you're a grown man. What's there to be shy about?” Aaron, at his wit's end, yelled, “Don’t sit on the bed wet! This is my dorm, my bed. Go dry off at your home!” Kenneth’s expression faltered, and he fell silent.

Aaron could sense he had hit a nerve, and he let out a heavy sigh, tidying up the clutter on the couch into a cabinet. “What's eating you, man? So what if he was your biological dad? It's not like he raised you. Cut the ‘tortured teen’ act.” Ever since Flynn's incident, Kenneth had cut ties with the Ellingtons, holing himself up at school.

He would only occasionally ring up Richard to check-in.

Richard understood Kenneth’s temperament and didn’t press him to chome, letting him figure things out at his own pace.

Whatever Flynn's mistakes were, they had nothing to do with Kenneth.

Silently, Kenneth got up and dressed, not responding.

He didn’t even know what he was trying to prove; he just felt sorry toward the Ellington family. They had raised him, and Flynn, the man who had brought him into their lives, harbored such dark intentions.

In the end, Flynn had even gone so far as to threaten the family Kenneth loved. Though they shared no blood ties, Kenneth hadn't been able to shake off the event.

Aaron grabbed what he needed and shot Kenneth a look. “I've got classes today. What about you?” “I'm free. I'll tag along,” Kenneth replied, bored and not keen on stewing in his own thoughts.

Knowing he couldn't stop him, Aaron simply shrugged and headed out with his books.

Kenneth followed, shedding his somber demeanor and chattering away, keeping Aaron company on the way to class.