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!”

with a satisfied smile. He had been keeping a close watch on 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 skills. Only the legendary Specter Healer or someone like Brody, who

with a contact

waiting respectfully, anticipated an encounter with the mysterious Mr.

the first time she met Mr. B, although she had no idea if this man in front of her was the

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

that Mr. B was waiting

to save Dorian and Cordelia, but there was nothing I could

continued to stare at Barnaby without

“It all happened too quickly, and I had no choice but to give them up, but… I got

Scott reacted for the first time. With surprise, he said, “You got

Cordelia’s body. She had modified it and hid it in her bracelet. I

and walked to the lab next

it, he confirmed it was the real potion! With this, he

for now, and take your time to recover from your injuries. If anything comes up, I’ll contact you the

chosen to meet Quincy to determine if she betrayed the

throat on the spot

was

B leave, then immediately told her brother, Caspian, about what

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,

Mr. B. He would let Barnaby obtain insider information about the GTO and

from Draven about Scott’s whereabouts, instructed patience. The time was not right to strike. They needed to wait for Barnaby’s next move, to exploit Scott’s trust,

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 world, a place where

held Vivienne’s hand, carefully kicking aside the pebbles and debris that littered their