The Million-Dollar Heart by Rebecca Ryan

At the TIC Research Institute, Calista strode in with the confidence of someone who owned the place. She slipped into her pristine lab coat, snapped on a pair of gloves, and began to prepare her array of scientific instruments meticulously.

As her colleagues filtered into work, they could not help but cast puzzled glances her way. Unfazed by their stares, Calista selected a few essential tools and turned to the bewildered researchers. “Unless there’s a pink slip with my name on it that I’ve yet to receive, my presence here should come as no surprise,” she quipped with an authority that commanded the room.

The researchers collected themselves. “No, of course not, Dr. Blake.”

“Good, then let’s get to work,” Calista said, her eyes flickering with impatience. “Have these items delivered to my office later. I don’t want to be disturbed while conducting my research.”

She handed a list to her assistant, Holden, whose eyes widened in confusion upon reading it. These items had nothing to do with their current projects.

“Problem?” Calista arched an eyebrow.

Quick to recover, Holden shook his head. “No. It’s just that we’ve never used some of these before, and they could be dangerous if mishandled.”

A scoff escaped Calista. “Playing it safe hasn’t exactly helped us meet Mr. Percy’s expectations, has it? If we don’t innovate, what use will we be to him, or do you fancy yourself a better scientist than I?”

Holden clamped his mouth shut and hurried off to gather the requested items.

Calista retreated to her private lab, a space she had earned as the institute’s director. Here, under the radar of her subordinates, she could delve into the confidential task assigned by the enigmatic Scott. As soon as the door clicked shut, beads of cold sweat dotted her forehead. The pressure of developing a virus under the watchful eyes of so many was immense. Still, she had always maintained an air of untouchable authority, which now served her well in keeping prying eyes at bay.

Pouring over the documents Scott had entrusted her with, Calista’s gaze hardened. The document was highly confidential, and the task was extremely risky. She was playing a dangerous game, but it was the only way to regain her freedom from Scott’s manipulations and regain the attention of the elusive Percival.

With determination and resolve in her eyes, Calista yelled inwardly, “Vivienne, the day this virus sees the light of day is the day of your death!”

Calista, confident in her ambition and desperation to prove her worth. He did not fear her betrayal in the slightest; she was already an outcast, and Percival did not even care if she could enter the lab. Plus, Calista was extremely arrogant about her medical

covert meeting with a contact named Quincy, whose

and waiting respectfully, anticipated an encounter with the mysterious Mr.

although she had no idea if this man in front of her was

the mask, his eyes were filled with intimidation and inspection as

that Mr. B was waiting

They managed to save

held his forehead with one hand and continued to stare at Barnaby

quickly, and I had no

With surprise, he said,

Scott, saying, “I got this from searching Cordelia’s body. She had modified it and hid it in her bracelet. I don’t know if this

the potion and

the real potion! With this, he

and instructed Barnaby, “Don’t show up for now, and take your time to recover from your injuries. If anything comes up, I’ll contact

to determine if she betrayed the organization as Rowan and

slit her throat on the spot if something

was

brother, Caspian, about what had happened. This news

message, he was certain that the Mr. B Barnaby mentioned was indeed Scott. After that day, he instructed Barnaby to find a way to get close to Mr. B, and he never contacted her again. However, given how cautious he was, Mr. B would never so casually appear. Thus, Percival knew this was

Percival was going to use this to his advantage to find the true Mr.

wait for Barnaby’s next move, to exploit Scott’s trust, and to bait the

chosen for a child poisoned and on the brink of death—a dilapidated building that even the homeless would shun. It was a stark reminder of their cruel and merciless

Vivienne’s hand, carefully kicking aside the pebbles