The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne)
Chapter 501

At the Boyd Mansion, a shadow began to cast itself over Percival Ellington's usually charming features.

Truth be told, he had not frequented the Boyd Mansion often, but the few times he did, his visits invariably ended with Cecilia in tears.

As a kid, he could not fathom why the Boyds had such contempt for his mother. As he grew up, the reasons became apparent, and he stopped coming altogether.

Vivienne gazed out the car window. The Boyd Mansion was a majestic sight, grander even than the Brooks Mansion, which Maddox Perez had offhandedly referred to as "little space." "Percival, Ma'am, we've arrived," announced Thomas as he switched off the engine and stepped out to open the car door.

Percival helped Vivienne out of the car, and they stood in front of the massive gates of the Boyd Mansion. His eyes, deep as the ocean, seemed unfathomable.

He stepped forward and rang the doorbell.

"Who's there?" Came an inquiry through the intercom.

A slight frown creased Percival's brow as he replied, "Percival."

There was a momentary pause on the other end before the gate was buzzed open.

The wrought iron gate swung open slowly, yet curiously, no one came out to greet them.

Percival's frown deepened, a thin veil of anger enveloping him.

Vivienne gently tapped the back of his hand and offered a reassuring smile.

The anger surrounding Percival dissipated instantly, and with a smile, he took Vivienne's hand, and they walked in together.

At the entrance, two servants stood aside, revealing a man in a casual suit, the Boyd family butler. "Mr. Ellington, I presume. Please come in. The matriarch has been awaiting you." Percival did not respond, intending to proceed with Vivienne.

Unexpectedly, the butler stepped in their way.

Had Vivienne not been holding his hand, Percival was sure he would have taken off the butler's arm with a single, swift blow.

"Mr. Ellington, guests must change their shoes upon entry and proceed to the decontamination room for a cleansing shower before they can meet with the matriarch. You haven't forgotten our rules, have you?" Both Percival and Vivienne's expressions darkened.

Changing shoes was one thing, but a decontamination shower?

Was the Boyd Mansion hiding a royal palace?

Requiring sterile processing before entry?

Vivienne stepped forward, gripping the butler's arm with her ring-adorned hand. A gentle squeeze was all it took for the sound of cracking bones to echo.

Pain shot through the butler's head, and as he was about to curse, he caught sight of the ring on Vivienne's finger.

Was that the heirloom ring of the Boyd family head?

How did it end up in the hands of this young woman?

Reading through the butler's expression, Vivienne's lips curved slightly upward. "Isn't there a Boyd family rule that requires one to kneel to greet the head? You haven't forgotten that, right?"

The butler, clutching his limp arm, knelt in panic. "Greetings, Ma'am."

The Boyd family had many such protocols. In fact, many families did, but as time passed and the world changed, these rules were slowly forgotten, especially by the younger generation, who would never truly expect someone to kneel in greeting.

Though these protocols were seldom spoken of, they were not extinct.

If the head of the family mentioned them, no one dared to disobey.

Looking down at the butler on the ground, Vivienne spoke sternly, "Is it just you here?"

The butler, understanding, quickly got up and bowed. "Ma'am, please wait here. I will fetch Madam Wendy."

With Vivienne's permission, the butler hurried into the Boyd mansion, his injured arm numb.

"Trouble, matriarch!"

Engrossed in the financial evening news, Wendy Boyd saw the butler burst in, agitation written all over his wrinkled face. "What's the rush? Is the house on fire? Didn't I tell you to take Percival and his country slut to the decontamination room?"

With her regal bearing and gold-rimmed reading glasses, Wendy looked every bit the matriarch despite her shrill tone.

Breathless, the butler managed, "No, it's that slut... That woman has the long-missing patriarch's ring!"

"What!" Even Wendy, ever composed, was visibly shaken at the mention of the ring.

She had searched for that ring for thirty years to no avail.

Wendy knew her mother had hidden it, giving it to that cheap woman Cecilia.

Her mother and mother-in-law were best friends, which was why she could marry into the Boyd family.

When she married into the Boyd family, her mother-in-law gave the ring to her mother, letting her decide when to give it away. However, to Wendy's absolute surprise, her mother gave this extremely important ring to her least favorite daughter, Cecilia!

Furious, Wendy did not even attend her mother's funeral.

Later, she tried to retrieve the ring from Cecilia, but no matter how much she prodded, Cecilia claimed to have never seen it, and Wendy had no means to search the Ellington Mansion. Eventually, she had to let go.

The Boyd family had thus been unable to unlock a mysterious trade route.

And now, Cecilia had given the ring to some country girl?

Wendy was aware of Percival's engagement but had no intention of attending a celebration for a grandson she barely knew. If not for the Ashford girl setting her sights solely on Percival, Wendy would have preferred never to cross paths with Cecilia or her children again.

Wendy steadied her nerves, composed her features into a semblance of calm, and resettled herself on the plush sofa, perching her reading glasses on the bridge of her nose. "Let them in," she huffed with a wave of her hand, "I must see for myself what sort of taste Cecilia has to dare gift my ring to some country bumpkin!"

The butler gave Wendy a pained look. "Madam, she... she insists you come to greet her."

Wendy's face crinkled with rage, her wrinkles deepening as if about to burst from her skin.

"That bitch, she dares to expect me to receive her in person? The gall!" Wendy's lips quivered with fury.

The butler stepped closer, a calming presence. "Madam, the lady's name is Vivienne."

"I don't care what her name is! Have her thrown out this instant. I refuse to lay eyes on her!"

The butler, pressing gently on the old lady's wrist to ease her anger, spoke softly, "Please, Madam, think of the Ashford family. We must endure this slight for now. Besides, Vivienne has the Boyd family heirloom ring in her possession. Think about it. That gives us two more avenues to explore."

A spark of cunning flashed behind Wendy's spectacles.

Indeed, she had agreed to Percival's proposal to unite families through marriage with the young Ashford girl, all in pursuit of unlocking the enigmatic trade route of the Boyd family.

Now that the heirloom ring had surfaced, if she could somehow finagle the ring from Vivienne's grasp, there would be no more need to grovel before the Ashfords.

With this thought, Wendy's expression softened slightly. She placed her wrist atop the butler's almost-crippled arm. "Lead the way."

The butler, gritting his teeth against the discomfort, supported Wendy as they made their way to meet Vivienne.