Mark knew his fate was sealed. Betraying the Nine Mystics Society and harming his brethren had left him no escape.

His only option now was to divulge what he knew about GTO to save his own skin.

"Young Master, my latest orders were to shift our operations to Sea City and locate someone named Imogen to await further instructions. That's all I was told, Young Master. Please, can you spare my life?" Vivienne's eyes narrowed.

Imogen had fled to Sea City, the turf of the Perez family.

Mark continued to plead as a tear traced his cheek.

Vivienne brushed off the man's insincere tears and pressed, "Once in Sea City, how will you find Imogen?"

"I don't know, but our base there is at a virus research facility. I haven't been given details."

Seizing a thread of hope, Mark blurted out, "Young Master, I'll make amends. I'll go to Sea City, uncover the research facility, and deliver this woman, Imogen, to you. I swear I'll complete the mission."

His voice was urgent, punctuated by fits of coughing that suddenly brought forth blood. His heart felt pierced with a thousand needles, suffocating him with pain.

Vivienne stood, dusted off her jacket, and said indifferently, "I gave Flynn a poison that's tearing him apart from the inside. Yours is a hundred times stronger. You'll spend every moment in agony." Mark collapsed, his face ashen.

No one knew better than him the potency of the Young Master's poisons.

His pleas were in vain.

Just as he thought this was the harshest punishment, Vivienne spoke slowly, "You think this is enough?"

Mark shuddered.

Was there something worse waiting for him?

Vivienne, hands in her pockets, looked down upon him. "I've always said, from the day you joined the Nine Mystics Society, death would never be the best outcome. For a traitor... even a death wish is a luxury."

As she opened the door, Draven entered. "Young Master!"

Vivienne grabbed a document, pressed Mark's thumb for a print, and walked out, leaving behind a chilling command, "Throw him into the hound pit!"

Mark's pleas escalated to a fevered pitch, "Young Master, I beg you. I'll never betray you again. Please, you can kill me, but don't send me to the hound pit."

Even Draven was stunned by her decree.

Vivienne owned a private kennel of ferocious dogs used to punish traitors. For years, no human had ever been thrown in.

Everyone knew of its existence and Vivienne's temperament. No one dared to cross her. She had hoped she would never have to use it. But now, she had.

It was clear how much Mark's betrayal had infuriated her.

Draven felt a pang of sympathy. A simple betrayal might have ended with poison, but Mark had joined GTO, the organization that had killed Vivienne's mother, and she was relentless in her quest for vengeance against it, swearing to destroy it at all costs.

Vivienne had dealt with many from GTO, but none suffered as Mark would.

Those GTO members Vivienne had previously dealt with were not directly involved in her mother's death. They were not GTO's boss, and she never had any personal grudge against them. Thus, if they did not cross her, she might grant them a quick death if she was feeling kind.

However, she trusted Mark. Plus, she was attached to all Nine Mystics Society members.

Hence, Draven could understand why Vivienne would throw Mark into the hound pit. If he were betrayed by someone he trusted, he would do the same.

As Vivienne paused at the exit, hearing Mark's begging, she smiled, a poisonous bloom. "I'm a law-abiding citizen. Why would I kill? Don't you worry, you won't die. You'll be tended to every day, year after year unless I die. That's when your relief may come."

Her words crushed Mark's last hope. He sat, mouth agape, unable to utter a word.

Outside, Aaron was waiting, having overheard everything. Mark's betrayal was now unmistakable.

He, of course, would not forgive Mark either.

His father had always been absent, and that only seemed more accurate than ever.

Vivienne handed Aaron the document and said, "From today, you are the head of the Miller family. Everything is in your hands."

It was Mark's will. It stated that upon his death, everything would pass to Aaron.

For Aaron, whether Mark was truly dead was irrelevant. What mattered was the will.

However, he knew very well that whether he could obtain complete control of the Miller family still depended on himself.

"Vivienne, I won't disappoint you. I promise, the Miller family will never harbor another traitor!"

Aaron's pledge was filled with a young man's resolve.

Vivienne patted his shoulder, her confidence in him unwavering.

"Hmm, I'll have Matthew and Draven pull some strings for you behind the scenes."

With a chuckle, Vivienne turned on her heel and walked away.

Aaron opened his mouth to say something, but then he saw Percival approaching, taking Vivienne's hand, and they strolled off together, side by side.

He bit his lower lip in frustration.

His gaze followed Vivienne's retreating figure, her image long since etched in the depths of his heart, impossible to shake off.

But for now, he was powerless to declare his feelings to Vivienne.

He would have to wait until the day he was strong enough.

Vivienne and Percival stepped out of the hospital to find Anna and Thomas already waiting in the car.

Once they were all settled inside, Thomas handed a dossier to Vivienne. "Ma'am, we've tracked down the source of the bomb that hit the Miller family's stronghold. Please, take a look."

Vivienne noticed the pallor on Thomas's face and felt a surge of certainty in her heart.

As she opened the dossier, her suspicion was confirmed: the bomb came from Micah.

The same "Morning Glory" that had saved Percival from the mine had been used to blow up the Miller's stronghold. After the incident with Percival, the Morning Glory had passed its field test and was ready for official deployment, though not yet in mass production.

After all, it required meticulous planning to maximize the bomb's effectiveness.

Griffin had submitted a few standard algorithms to the government, and Vanguard Agency's headquarters had received these formulas, stockpiling the bombs.

This time, they had all been used on the Nine Mystics Society's stronghold.

No wonder, although the explosion was so vast, aside from the target itself, not even the leaves on the surrounding trees had fallen.

Vivienne had suspected from the start that Mark did not have the resources for such a grand gesture; someone must have been helping him from the shadows. She just had not expected Micah to make such a blatant move.

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