The Million-Dollar Heart (Percival and Vivienne) novel Chapter 722

When the director of the production arrived on set, he stumbled upon a rather intense scene.

Kala stood defiantly atop her trailer, her agent standing behind her, expression as frosty as a winter morning in Maine.

Across from them, Ramona and her own agent were the picture of distress—one looking pitiful, the other seething with silent rage—a stark contrast to Kala's imposing stance.

At first glance, it looked like Kala was throwing her weight around, taking out her frustration on Ramona since she couldn't confront Vivienne directly.

"Ramona!"

Kala's smartphone buzzed incessantly in the palm of her hand.

She knew Darren was on the other end, furiously texting after overhearing Ramona's comments. Kala was at a loss for how to respond.

Her eyes locked onto Ramona with fury, "Don't spew nonsense! It's clear as day you were the one trying to seduce Percival, and it backfired spectacularly. Now you have the gall to play the victim and accuse Vivienne? You're despicable!"

Kala's agent, a longtime friend of Vivienne's, furrowed her brow so tightly it could crush a fly. "Ms. Grimshaw, slander is a serious offense. You're blatantly trying to stir trouble. Do you think we're all fools?"

Ramona wore an innocent facade, "Kala, if you don't believe me, call Ms. Vivienne right now. If she doesn't despise you, she'll certainly take your call."

"That wretched woman, she must know the boss is unreachable right now! She's doing this on purpose!" Darren bellowed over the phone.

Kala exchanged a knowing look with her agent, their eyes scanning the crowd.

The entertainment industry thrived on gossip, and now, with Kala's trailer as the epicenter, a crowd had gathered.

Especially since today was fan visitation day on set, and behind the banners, some were even hoisting cameras, trying to catch a glimpse of the drama.

Ramona had to have known! She chose today of all days to stir up trouble. What was she playing at?

"Kala, snap out of it. If you truly have no interest in Vivienne's husband, call her now to clear the air." Suddenly, from within the crowd, someone shouted.

It was like a drop of water in a frying pan—sizzling and chaotic!

The murmuring crowd erupted, and a nosy onlooker shouted with cupped hands, "Yeah, Kala! Just make the call. You're loaded; the call won't break the bank!"

"Kala, if you don't call, are you admitting guilt?"

"How low can you go? Ms. Vivienne was so good to you, and here you are, coveting her man. Just like your murderous grandmother, utterly repulsive!"

"Genetics really do run deep! How can someone like you be so adored?"

"I've been dying to say this! Kala's acting is subpar, and she's such a diva. Was Ms. Vivienne blind to promote her?"

Some crew members recognized the director and grabbed his arm, "Director, how can someone like her be our lead actress?"

"Exactly, Director. Kick her out!"

"Kick her out!"

Amid the uproar, no one noticed the fleeting gleam in Ramona's eyes.

Percival, absorbed in his laptop, couldn't help but glance at Brody, thinking perhaps Vivienne's concoctions had affected his intelligence.

Feeling the piercing stares, Brody belatedly realized what he had blurted out and was about to explain himself when the lab door chimed open.

Vivienne emerged in her white lab coat, holding a vial. "I had no idea your ambitions were so lofty. Perhaps in your dreams, they might come true."

As she passed Brody, she handed him the vial. "Give this to your guinea pig. Of course, if you're not afraid to die, you're welcome to try it yourself."

Without waiting for his reaction, Vivienne breezed over to Percival. "Mr. Wolf, sorry to keep you waiting. Let's go get something to eat. I'm famished."

Her voice carried a hint of coquetry, which Percival found endearing. He affectionately flicked her nose, "What's your fancy?"

"Hamburger? No, we just had that last night."

Vivienne wrinkled her nose, thinking of the numbers on her scale creeping upward, and decisively scrapped the idea. With that thought, she pulled out her phone, looking to see what delectable options were available online.

Her thumb pressed down on his phone's power button for the second time before it dawned on her—her phone had died, probably sometime during the night when she'd forgotten to charge it. "Hey, Mr. Wolf, got a power bank on you? My phone's kicked the bucket."

Percival blinked, his hand instinctively patting down his pockets before he remembered he was the kind of guy who never bothered with such gadgets. "Nah, use mine. We're heading home right after dinner anyway—it won't matter for that little while."

With the matter settled, they prepared to leave.

Brody, the quintessential lab rat with his precious vials and beakers, was too engrossed in his work to pay much attention to their conversation. It was only when he noticed them getting ready to take off that he hastily packed up his experiments. "Hold up, did you figure out what this concoction is for?"

Without turning back, Vivienne tossed her reply over her shoulder, "Check the lab report inside. It's all there for you to read."